#SHE DROVE HERSELF TO WORK TODAY!

[thiziri]

Princess Anne, as Honorary President, attending the Oxford Farming conference, on 09 January 2025.

[estaticheart]

ᥫ᭡. THAT’S MY SISTER YOU BITCH

Summary: Despite Sarah and Rafe’s volatile relationship, that’s your sister.

Warnings: Violence, illusions to sex, swearing.

You had a great day so far. You'd woken up to Rafe in between your legs, waking you up in the best way possible before he made you both breakfast as you watched him from the island. Sometimes you just liked to ponder on how lucky you were to have a boyfriend like Rafe. To everyone else, you were far from lucky but you liked it that way- knowing only you got the real Rafe Cameron.

Now, you were on your way back from grocery shopping, planning to make Rafe a romantic meal when he arrived back from work. Blasting music from your car speakers, you were completely in the zone. Until you drove up to the City Hall, glancing ahead you saw Kelce's red truck, which you thought nothing of until you saw him and his idiotic friends surrounding John B and Sarah.

Alarmed, you pulled up next to the truck, gathering the attention of everyone. Despite being a kook yourself, you were far different from the rest of them. You didn't care about pogues, to you they were like anyone else, in fact often you preferred the pogues in the Outer Banks to the kooks. Rafe's circle exclusively consisted of kooks, meaning you often received a lot of respect from kooks even though you spent a lot of your time arguing with them. Rafe didn't mind it, you were his girlfriend and lover, so if you wanted to yell he wouldn't stop you.

"Problem?" You asked, slamming your car door shut behind you. Just as Sarah hit the ground. Immediately you rushed towards Sarah. Yeah, Rafe and Sarah had problems they needed to get past but to you, Sarah was still as important as she was 2 years ago. You were proud of her for finding her true love and true friends, and you always let her know that you would always be there for her. And this time was no exception. Putting two and two together, you saw Ruthie standing much closer to Sarah than the other kooks who looked at her in shock.

They all stood stunned at your arrival, to be honest, you were probably the worst possible person to show up at that exact moment. Everyone knew your opinions on the Pogues were far more empathetic than the other kooks. "No, no problem" Kelce muttered, beginning to pull Ruthie and the others back from Sarah and John B, to which they happily obliged. Not on your watch.

"Oh no, don't stop on my accord guys. Please whatever you were going to do next. Do it." Walking over to them, Ruthie stood stunned at your arrival. Since she started dating Topper, you got a lot of joy out of berating her, publically. For once, she didn't back down at your words. "She needs to watch herself. She pushed me first, it was self-defence." Ruthie said, glancing behind you to see John B pulling Sarah to her feet.

Snorting you replied, "Ruthie, I'm not Shoupe. Don't start pleading your case, I don't care." She stalled at your response, for a moment thinking that you were on her side for pushing Sarah before you pulled her back to reality. Walking closer to her, edgingly slow, you pressed, "You think you're all big and mighty for pushing Sarah? She's 19 Ruthie, you're what? 21? Don't you think you should play with someone your own size?"

Behind you, John B and Sarah smirked at the group. Unbeknownst to you, Sarah was pregnant and John B was far too occupied to make sure Sarah was okay than to pick a fight with Kelce and his goons today. But you happily would, and even better so because who was going to fight back against the kook princess? Definitely not these ones.

“Well?” You pushed, as you stood toe to toe with Ruthie. You were growing impatient, Rafe would have finished work by now meaning that soon he’d come looking for you- and you’d rather give Ruthie a good couple punches before Rafe showed up.

“Okay times up.” Before she could even think, your fist sent her backwards onto the floor, just how Sarah had been when when you arrived. Groaning, she lifted her hands to cover her nose, assumably bleeding- hopefully broken if Rafe’s self defence lessons had done some good. “Oh my god- I think you broke my nose. You bitch.” She shrieked, pulling her hands away to reveal blood beginning to pour from her nose.

Ruthie was nothing but a bully, a bully you’d had enough of tormenting the island. Your legs either side of her chest you crouched over her, “Don’t worry you still look just as bad as before.” You muttered as you flew your fist back into her face that she left unguarded. Idiot. Her screaming began again, as you moved off from her, deciding that your two punches had done enough damage. Wow, you’d really have to thank Rafe for those lessons.

“Just wait until Topper hears about this, he will deal with you.” One of the other kooks muttered from behind Kelce. “Yeah I’m sure Topper will be sure to deal with me.” You laughed, Topper wouldn’t touch a hair on your arm as long as you were dating Rafe- everyone knew that.

“You want to fuck with someone, not Sarah.” You spat at them, watching Ruthie sadly pull herself to her feet, with the help of no one. “That’s my sister you bitch. Now fuck off.” At your command, Kelce briskly walked back over to his truck, as the others followed just as fast, allowing you to turn back to John B and Sarah.

You were greeted to their smiling faces, both as grateful as each other. But you noticed, a twinge of emotion still lingering on Sarah’s face. Hearing you call her your sister in combination with her pregnancy hormones, was due to set her off to cry. Before she could get out any words, you spoke for her. “You are my sister regardless of whatever is going on between you and Rafe. You’re family.” Turning to John B, you continued, “That extends to you, hubby.” You winked looking down at the ring on his finger.

With a red blush covering their faces, they praised you in thank yous. “Don’t need to thank me for doing something I’ve been wanting to do for months.” Glancing back to see the red truck had disappeared.

“Now, you can thank me for warning you that Rafe will be here any minute and I’m not sure you want to see him.”

—————————

“Baby, please be more careful next time.” Rafe muttered, as he wrapped your knuckles in bandages. He was more than shocked to find you outside the city hall- alone- but with bloody knuckles. Only with the explanation, that you had an altercation with Ruthie, surprisingly over Sarah. He was confused to say the least, he wasn’t even aware that Ruthie had a problem with his little sister. But the more he thought about it, of course she did- Topper still hadn’t gotten over her.

“In fact, there will be no next time. Ever.” Kissing your knuckles, he pulled you onto his chest as he lied back on your shared king bed. Stroking your hair, he let his mind wonder. Should he have been there to protect Sarah? But they hadn’t had a good relationship in years, he couldn’t just suddenly start caring for her. He also couldn’t let you get into situations that could get you hurt over protecting Sarah.

You noticed his body still and you knew instantly his mind was wondering thinking about Sarah. Without moving your head from his chest you spoke, “Rafe. I love Sarah. I know you have a difficult relationship at the moment and whilst you can’t protect her I will.” Letting the silence sit between you for a moment, you decided to continue.

“She’s our only family, Rafe.” He didn’t move, but you both knew how right you were. She was all you had left. “I know baby, I know.” He whispered, laying a kiss on the top of your head, before he let his mind slip back into imagining how he can rectify this broken relationship with his sister.

[sturniqlo]

KINKTOBER WEEK 5 | FOCUS- M.S

summary: where matt chooses to play video games over his girlfriend and it ends with him not being able to touch her for a while

cw: cursing, SMUT; dom(?)!reader, masterbating!f, oral!f receiving, hair pulling, fingering, making out

an: this is super super short, i honestly hate it, but happy kink-o-ween | until next kinktober...

masterlist | kinktober | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

it was friday night and y/n was over matt's house. ever since they started dating, she always spent the weekends at his house. no matter how she felt, she never missed the opportunity to stay a weekend at his. today was no different, she had driven to his, her duffel bag packed to the brim, and she was now laying in his bed.

however, ever since she got here he's been sitting at his desk playing fortnite. matt had probably spoken less than forty words to her. she was getting needy for his attention.

"baby!" y/n says for the hundredth time. "yes?" matt turns his head before looking back at his screen. "get off, pay attention to me." she whines. "wait until i win a game, okay? i get this really cool prize if i do." he quickly turns back and sees that he had gotten killed.

"fuck!" he said, his hand coming down on the desk. "please?" she pouted. "m' almost there, babe." matt fixed his headset and went back to playing. she sighed, tapped her fingers on her chest, thinking of ways to get his attention. calling out for him and telling him clearly didn't work,

she huffs, feeling the familiar ache between her thighs. she had been on her period for the last couple of days and and it was torture without matt's touch. now that she was off, he didn't touch her. he was literally right in front of her, yet he didn't pay attention to her. she decided to take care of the problem herself.

y/n pulled her sweatpants off and tossed them on the floor and the cold air littered goosebumps on her legs. she centered herself in the middle of the bed and propped a pillow against the headboard and laid against it, pressing her feet flat against the bed.

she lifting her hips and pulled her panties down to the middle of her thigh. her hand trailed in between her thighs to her wet folds. "shit." she sighed in relief when she felt her cold fingers on her clit. matt turns his head around as he hears her moan out. the sight of her touching herself makes him get hard instantly. "holy shit- babe." he takes his headset off before heading over to her.

y/n is quick to speak before he can get up. "no, you stay over there until you win a round, okay? i told you- fuck- several times to pay attention to me." he whines as she continues to play with herself. "please, baby. i'm- i'm sorry." matt looks at her fingers going in and out of her.

"once you win- mm- you get to touch me. and if- if i cum before you win- shit- you don't get to touch me." her pace quickened. matt felt himself get hard in his sweatpants. "but, baby." she shook her head. "focus on your game." her jaw slacked when she massaged the spongy spot inside of her. "fuck- fine." he sighed, turning back around in his chair his head turned back to her twice more before finally focusing on his game.

as he played with shaky hands, the loudness of her moans increased and it was hard for him to focus. the sound of her little whines went straight to his cock and he was now forming a wet patch in the front of his grey sweats. his leg bounced up and down as he tried to win as fast as he could, he didn't even care about the prize anymore, he wanted her. to touch her, to taste her.

"mm- oh shit!" she gasped as she lightly pinched her clit just like matt always did. she rolled the swollen bud in between her two fingers and it drove her crazy. "matt- i'm gettin' so close." she bit her lip trying to suppress her moans so she could get the full sentence out. matt heard her and his grip on the controller tightened. "baby, wait- please."

as much as she wanted to teach him a lesson. she listened to him and removed her fingers from her clit and slipped them into her tight hole. she moaned, even though they didn't fill her up like matt did.

y/n pumped her fingers in and out of her. the squelching sound of her sopping pussy hit matt. "fuck." he muttered to himself hearing the erotic sound. he was so into his thoughts that he didn't even realize he had won.

YOU WON

click anywhere to claim your prize

he didn't care to click, he tossed his controller onto his desk and pushed himself off of his chair and made his way to y/n. her eyes were closed in pleasure and matt saw her arousal covered fingers going in and out of her, her panties were still tucked in between her knees. matt wasted no time in pulling her legs, bringing her to the edge of the bed and removed her panties all the way off.

"matt!" she gasped when she felt his mouth connect with her pussy. "taste so fucking good!" he moaned against her. the vibrations adding to her pleasure. "f-fuck- so good." her hands tangled into his hair, pulling just how he liked it. matt threw her legs over his shoulders and continued to devour her while she was a whimpering mess. "don't stop- i'm so close. putting your mouth into good use, yeah? how 'bout you put your fingers to use." her jaw slacked when she felt his tongue prod at her hole.

he placed one last kiss on her clit before removing his mouth and bringing his two fingers and slid them up her slit, coating his fingers with her arousal. his fingers toyed with her bud, he loved to see her legs try and close. "yes- so good." she nodded against the bed. the two fingers slid back down and entered her hole- stretching her out. matt felt her warm walls tighten around his fingers.

"so tight for me, baby." he licked his lips before placing his mouth on her clit while his fingers thrusted into her. "shit! keep going, please! feels so good. fucking love your fingers in me." the sting of his scalp hurt so good.

a few sucks and thrusts later, her legs were shaking and she was coming. "i'm cumming, matt. fucking- holy shit!" her legs shook and she tried to close her legs around his head. matt kept them open, still licking her clit. once she started pushing his head away, he kissed up her clothed torso up to her lips. "m' sorry, m' never ignoring you again. always gonna be there to help you, m'kay?" he mumbled against her lips.

she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck bringing him closer. "go claim your prize, babe." she pulled away and looked into his eyes. he shook his head.

this was his prize.

[smutoperator]

Morning Roses

Park Chaeyoung (Rosé) x Male Reader

Tags: breeding kink, CMNF, (lots of) cock stroking, creampie, (lots of) fingering, good smell, morning sex, passionate sex, pussy sniffing, quickie, (a little) rimjob, switching

Word Count: 3177

Los Angeles, United States

It's early in the morning, and you're already up to go to work. The busy traffic of Los Angeles is implacable. However, as you were preparing to take your regular morning commute, you got a text message from a longtime lover you hadn't seen in a while.

"I'm in LA today; come see me." Rosé texted you. It had been a while since she had sent you a message. It used to be a given that she would come to your place every time she went to LA, but with her taking new steps into her solo career, you two were unable to see each other the last couple times she went to the city of angels.

You immediately canceled any of your plans, ready to see Rosé again after a long time. The selfie she had sent you drove you insane—her long blond hair, short skirt, long legs, and skinny body looking better than ever. She was truly aging like fine wine, becoming a hotter and hotter woman as time passed by.

You arrived at the house Rosé had sent the location to you; she greeted you with the same outfit she was wearing on that selfie. On a hot summer morning, Rosé got herself on the couch barefoot, close to the fan, as she stared at you reading this morning news, running her hands on her hair.

Rosé approaches you. "What are you waiting for?" she asks. "Why didn't you call me the last few times you were in LA?" You decide to play it tough with her. "Sorry, I was busy," she said. "And you don't think I'm busy today?" you punch back.

Rosé takes matters into her own hands, snatching your phone away as she sits on your lap, reclining her slim body onto yours. She doesn't say any words, just letting you slowly build up your uncontrollable desire for her as the flowery smell of hers invades your nostrils.

You two look at each other, pondering who's going to make the first move. You sniff Rosé's neck while she runs her hands into yours. She turns around, but you decide to play it tough, avoiding her seductive eye contact.

But Rosé has more than one way to seduce you. It's been five years since you first met, all the way back to her first performance at Coachella. She knows you can't resist her allure. She moves your hands into her body, placing them right at her erogenous zones. "I missed your touch so much, baby," she says.

"But there is something I missed much more," Rosé says shortly after, loudly unzipping your pants and reaching under them. You kiss her neck and blow a gust of wind into her ears, trying to react, but she's already far ahead, giving you a bright smile as she takes your belt completely off.

Rosé quickly brings you to your knees as she starts stroking your big cock. "Did you miss my touch?" she asks, bragging. "Ohhhh shit," is all you can say, your shaft pressed between Rosé's clothes, yours and her hand, her carefully masturbating your erection and growing bigger and bigger at each move.

You can no longer resist and pull Rosé's top to the side, showing her perky little milky tits and touching them. "Fuck," you whisper, reaching under her skirt and taking her panties off at the same time you pull her skirt down.

Rosé kisses you, taking her hands off your cock and letting you search for her tight entrance. You let out a couple moans as your dick slowly slides inside her slit. Now it's Rosé's turn to moan, holding your hand as her pussy slowly engulfs your cock. 

You dive your head into Rosé's tits as her tight walls crush your cock. In contrast to her usually bustling life in LA, Rosé is in no hurry, moving her hips at a very slow motion and warming up your cock with her sexy moves. She places her hands in her pussy and rubs her clit, following it with some caressing in your shaft. You now move into kissing her armpits and wondering how she can smell so good without any perfume, just au naturel.

Rosé increases the pace of her riding, taking your cock deeper in her pussy while she kisses you and you caress her clit. She then pauses a bit, letting you enjoy her clit as your fingers and your cock now simultaneously penetrate her pussy.

"Ahhh, fuck, your hands massage it so well," Rosé says as they stimulate her throbbing insides, and she kisses you once again. Her moans get louder, your cock digs deeper and deeper in her cunt, your hands do the same in her clit, she moves her hips, trying to answer your increasingly hotter stimulation.

Rosé's long legs shake and close as you massage her clit at full force now. "FUCKKKK, AHHHHHHH," she screams, your touch bringing her to her knees, the stimulation being so much for her that Rosé is unable to keep your cock inside her pussycat. But you don't care and just keep your hands working on her clit, proving that you can make her cum without even using your cock to do so.

You're now ready to turn the slim Aussie into your fucktoy. Your shaft is barely visible, just peeking out of your pants and then quickly disappearing in Rosé's pink pussy. She tries to resume her ride but is already too weak to continue, letting you kiss her perky tits instead. Rosé plays with her nipples as you suck them and goes back to massage her pink pussy. "Ahhhh, ahhhhh, ahhh, I can't take it; your hands are so good, fuckkkk me," she moans.

"OH FUCKKKKK," Rosé screams, as you don't even need to thrust upwards to dominate her perfect pussy, just letting your hands do all the work as they hit the Aussie slut's throbbing folds. Rosé once again can't handle your touch, squirting as your cock slides out of her cunt for a second time.

Seeing that you're easily winning the battle, Rosé changes her strategy, turning around and getting your cock back in her pussy as her panties still hang on by her thigh. She starts slow and romantically kisses you as she picks up the pace to ride your cock, pressing her nails against your suit. Her fast rides quickly turn the tide, as you're now the one hanging on for your dear life each time Rosé manages to get your shaft all the way down in her pink pussy and her hips clash against your balls.

"OH MY GOD BABY, OH MY GOD, YESSSS, KEEP DOING THAT!" you scream as Rosé's pussy bounces up and down your cock. "God damn it, you are such a good slut riding on my cock," you tell her. 

"You like it, baby?" Rosé asks with a smile on her face. She really loves to be on top of the world—well, on top of a big cock, which is basically the same for her—loving to see you struggling with her tight walls after you made the throb a couple minutes ago with that massage. "Damn it, your pussy is so tight," you say to Rosé. "And your cock is so amazing stretching it out," she replies, as you cling into her tits and suck them like a baby to save yourself from cumming.

Rosé takes what is still left of her top off, getting herself fully naked. The contrast of Rosé's goddess body with no clothes on and yours fully clothed as the morning sunlight invades the room is a sight to behold. She climbs off your body and pulls your pants down, getting on her knees to taste her juicy pussy out of your cock.

But before doing so, she teases you a bit, playing with your balls and eating your asshole while sniffing your thobbing shaft. "It smells like morning roses; it looks like I really left my mark on it," she says as she moves up to savor your balls and strokes your shaft, looking at you with naughty eyes as she performs a kissing blowjob, paying lots of attention to the tip and putting her sexy lips all over it.

"Fuck, fuck," it's all you can whisper as Rosé handles your shaft. You push her body close to yours to enjoy it as you two share more kisses; her never stop stroking that big cock, going even faster as you move into her neck and grip her ass, trying to survive her magical hands working all over that cock.

Rosé now holds your cocks with both hands, emerging as the clear winner as she arches her back and dominates you from top to bottom. Her naked butt looks absolutely perfect. You try to counter, using the same fingers that brought her pussy into submission to now dig inside her asshole. Bur Rosé quickly nullifies your attack, diving face-down straight to your cock while putting her ass up for you to look at and drool over.

"Like this, like this," you say as Rosé performs the boss-chair blowjob on you. But truth be told, she's the real boss, sucking the life out of your cock, getting especially sloppy with the tip as she spits all over it. "Yes, oh yes," you say as Rosé massages your prostate, sticking her long index finger up your butthole. She looks at you with dirty eyes, loving how your big cock is all hers to enjoy.

But you are determined to flip things around, putting Rosé in the chair as you dive to suck her tits and reaching your hands into her pink pussy. The chair rocks from side to side as you pin Rosé to it and dominate her, descending down her body and kissing it at every possible erogenous zone: her neck, her tits, her navel, her legs, and last, but not least, her amazing tight pussy.

You rest your head at Rosé's pussy, eating and sniffing it as she closes her eyes and naugtly moans. Good god, her pussy must have the best smell on earth. You never get tired of it. Even though you have known for a long time how good it tastes, each time she manages to surprise you with that amazing rose scent that quickly invades your nostrils and refuses to leave.

Rosé clenches her legs as you sniff her delicious clit. "Ahhhhh, ahhhhh, please eat that pussy like that," she moans, contorting her body all over the chair, trying to resist the magical work of your tongue. You give her a little rest as Rosé gets out of breath, taking your suit off. But not for long. As soon as she gives you that sexy stare that drives you crazy, you two go back to trading kisses and working your tongues all over your mouths.

But now you want to work a different part of your body on Rosé's, getting your cock back in her pussy as you lay Rosé's light body on top of the chair, admiring her perfect bikini mark as the sunlight makes her beautiful body glow.

"Lay down," you tell Rosé, slowly pushing her body down as you touch her breasts, her moans getting sexier than ever. "Please, baby, take it deep in my pussy," Rosé begs as you start thursting once again slowly, building up the heat inside her fuckhole. The summer heat forces you to take your clothes off as you pound her hard and finger her nipples. "AHHHHHHH," Rosé screams as you choke her, your cock now bulging under her skinny belly. You stop a bit to kiss her before coming full force to pound her tight pussy.

Rosé's body gets completely pinned down to the chair as you fuck her in a mating press position. "That's so good, that's so good, you're sending me to heaven," she moans as she fingers her clit, doubling the stimulation as you hit her pussy all the way down to her cervix.

"FUCK DAMN IT!" Rosé screams as your cock stretches her tight pussy even further. You look at her eye to eye, whispering dirty words in her ear. "I'm going to put a baby in this hot Aussie womb," you tell her. "Make you look like a kangaroo when I breed that pussy," you continue.

Rosé's skin turns red as she really gets down to the idea of getting impregnated. "Please, baby, get me pregnant; I want it so much," she says as you rest your cock close to her womb.

But you're not going to do that yet, wanting to enjoy Rosé's slutty body a little more. "First, I'm going to fuck the shit out of this beautiful pussy," you tell her, spitting on her face. "AHHHHHH, PLEASE, DESTROY THAT PUSSY," she begs as you grab her body and hit her cunt full speed, groping her tits with one hand and massaging her belly with the other, feeling your cock poke under it multiple times.

You flip Rosé around as soon as she squirts a little. "I didn't tell you to cum, slut. Now arch that back and put that ass up," you demand of Rosé, who lets out a moan. "Keep going, show me how much that big fucking cock loves to fuck my pussy," she punches back. 

Rosé gets her knees on the floor as you grab her beautiful ass from behind. She looks more submissive than ever. You pull her hair and increase the pace, pounding her pussy fast, hard, and deep and enjoying the massive recoil of her ass each time your balls hit her pale cheeks.

"You're so fucking perfect," you say to Rosé. "Tell me how much you love it then, baby," she replies. "Tell me how much you fucking love fucking me," she continues. "Is that your pussy?" she asks. "It's your pussy, isn't it, baby?" she keeps asking as you keep panting, getting closer and closer to cum at each thrust inside Rosé's tight fuckhole.

"HMMMMMMMM, AHHHHHHHH," Rosé suddenly screams as you give a spank to her ass. You're going to make it red, make it red, even though she's not a member of the group who sings that song. But her ass is so great and round you can't resist; it's just the perfect spot for your big hands to hit nonstop.

Rosé clings to the chair, trying to resist the fast poundings you give her. "FUCKKKKK, OH MY GODDDDDDD," she screams as soon as you add your hands inside her asshole, your cock and your fingers competing to see who fucks each hole faster. You then grab her little waist to get a better grip of the ausie fucktoy's body. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," you groan as Rosé's walls get tighter and tighter the more you pound her pussy. "KEEP GOING, THAT'S SO GOOD, AHHHHHH, SHITTTTT," she screams again.

"Oh baby, thanks for giving me that pussy," you tell her. Rosé just fingers her pussy, getting her walls tighter and tighter and preparing to milk you dry. "How good does my pussy feel, baby? The best pussy you ever fucking had?" Rosé says. "Yes, you're so fucking hot and tight, my favorite pussy in the whole world," you answer back.

"If I'm your favorite pussy, then show me and fill it full of your cum,"  Rosé says as you give her butt another spank. These words make you go feal. You tease Rosé as you rub your shaft between her asscheeks. "That's hot, baby, getting that cock ready to cum as hard as possible," she says. "I loved rubbing it against your red, spanked, slutty Aussie ass," you reply.

You give Rosé's ass a little more claps before lifting her right leg and diving under her to eat both her holes. "I want that pussy to be super tight; grip my cock until my balls are completely drained," you say to her. "Ohhh, yes, baby, that tongue is getting it tigther than ever; eat my pussy good and I'll make that cock cum like it never did," Rosé says.

Rosé chimes in and massages your balls while standing in one leg. "I can feel the cum building up for me; it wants to breed my pussy so bad," she says. "Eat my pussy like that; get it tighter," she demands from you.

"Are you ready for it?" you ask Rosé, indirectly making a reference to one of her friends. "I'm always ready; give it to me," she says. 

You search for Rosé's entrance to put your cock in her pussy for one final time. You two have fucked for a little under 30 minutes, but it's been so hot it feels like you've been going on for 3 hours. Her pussy is so tight you struggle to even hit the hole this time. "Oh my God, it's so tight," you say.

"Ahhhhh, shit," Rosé let out a big moan as you finally manage to get inside her. "I'm ready for it; how bad do you want to cum on this tight little pussy?" she asks. "Wanna fucking pump me until you cum inside it?" she keeps saying, building up the heat. 

"Cum inside that tight little pink pussy," Rosé says in a sexy whispering voice. The more she talks, the more you get turned on. "Give me all that hot sticky load inside it, please; I love it; I want it; fill me up, please," she continues to whisper.

"Fuck fill up that pussy, fucking cum inside me right now; I want it so bad; get me pregnant now. Breed me," Rosé begs with more whispers, feeling your cock pulsating in her tight hole as you start groaning. It doesn't take long for you to pump that hot, sticky load deep into her womb. She can't believe how much cum you managed to put inside that pink pussy. "Oh my God, that was amazing," she said. "It's been a long time since someone came inside me this hard," she said.

"That was a great morning fuck session; guess I need to go now; I'm very late to work," you say. "That's too bad; I'll miss you, and especially miss your throbbing cock pumping that big load in my pussy; who knows when I'm going to get it again," Rosé says, kissing you as you put your clothes back on and drive yourself back into the insane LA traffic.

The next day is really boring. After a morning of Roses, the afternoon is just more and more stressful work, leaving you extremely tired once you arrive at home. You sleep as soon as you get home, only waking up the next day with your phone's alarm clock. You take your regular morning shower and prepare your breakfast until another message from Rosé comes out.

"Come see me again; I got three more pussies for you to breed," she texts you, with this picture attached to it.

Damn, Rosé is really amazing. You know the moment she leaves LA, you'll be counting the days for her return.

[coldfanbou]

Time Off Needed

Alrighty, everyone this week turned into a Somi week, so this one is on the shorter side. Anyway, let's hope Somi gets a break she'll need one for working on one of her days off.

Length 1.8k

Somi x Mreader

Somi took a deep breath, raised her hands above her head, and stretched herself out. “Time to go home,” she said to herself as she grabbed her things. She waved goodbye to the few coworkers left in the building and got into her car, driving home. As Somi drove home, she called you, waiting as she listened to the ring go off three times. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, are we still on for tomorrow? It’s the end of the month, after all.”

“Yeah, I’ll come by your place tomorrow morning; it’s going to be an all-day thing, right?”

“Yep, alright, that’s all I wanted to know. I’ll see you tomorrow, " she said before ending the call and continuing her drive along the highway. Her mind was elsewhere, filled with anticipation for the weekend and finally getting some time to relax. 

When she got home, Somi tossed her bag onto the couch and headed to her room. She threw herself onto her bed and let out a long sigh. She shut her eyes briefly, letting her body relax before slowly pushing herself out of bed, heading to the shower, throwing off her clothes, and stepping inside. 

The hot water rolled down Somi’s tired body, caressing it as she shook her head and enjoyed the warmth it provided. Somi shut her eyes and craned her neck, groaning, “That feels nice.” She took her time in the shower, feeling her body unwind and relax further. 

Once she was done, Somi wrapped a towel around her hair and changed into her sleepwear: a simple white tank top and panties. As she left the bathroom, a rush of cold air hit her, making her shiver. She rushed to her bedroom, wrapping herself in a blanket. A smile crossed Somi’s face as she felt the comfort of the blanket. Before sleeping in for the night, she checked her phone, going through her plans for the weekend before placing it on her nightstand and calling it a night. 

The next day, Somi got herself ready, got out of bed, and put on her best outfit. By the time you arrived, she was completely prepared. She led you into the other room. It was her recording room, designed with all the frills you could imagine around her bed. “Alright, put this on,” she said, handing you a large bear mask, one that would be used by a mascot in any other situation. “Oh, and take those pills.”

“Really? This one?” You ask, referring to the mask.

“Yeah, you got a problem with it?”

“Yeah, it moves too easily.”

“I changed it; there’s a rubber mouthpiece for you to bite down on. Besides, people like hearing me, so it’s better for me too.” Somi explains, moving to the computer and bending over as she adjusts some settings. You look her up and down, taking note of the outfit she chose to wear for today—something that looked far too prim and proper for what would be happening. You would’ve called it a uniform, but Somi would correct you. She glanced over her shoulder, “Hey, get ready,” she tells you, grabbing two hair ties from her desk and putting her hair into two pigtails. You huff, strip down to nothing, and put on the comically large bear head, finding the rubber mouthpiece she mentioned. “Alright, good,” you hear her say as she pushes you to the side. She opens her blouse, showing off the soft curves of her breasts, “Show’s starting,” Somi puts on a face mask and heads back to the computer, turning on the stream.  You take off the mask to use one of the pills and watch from the sidelines as she introduces herself, “Hi, everyone!” She shouts, waving to the camera. “It’s been a month since our last show, and you guys met the goal!” Somi feigns excitement, mimicking fireworks with her voice. “Okay, so because you guys met my goal, you guys get a very special show today. We’re going to go for a full 12 hours. Sit back, get your cock out for me, and enjoy watching me go crazy. I’ll look forward to getting to see all the pictures afterward.” She says. “Alright, there’s some material for you; now we’ll get started.” 

Somi turns toward you, extending her hand as she walks over to you and grasping your cock. She drags you into the frame and waves to the camera. “I found a nice teddy bear to use today.” She says before kneeling before you. She glances up at you, and you know, under the mask is a big smile. Somi moves her hand quickly over your cock, “I can’t wait to feel this thing inside me,” she giggles. You roll your eyes, biting down on the mouthpiece as Somi’s hand slows down, and she brings herself closer. 

Somi lifts her mask slightly, slipping your cock inside. You groan. Somi’s tongue moves up and down along your shaft, coating your cock in a layer of saliva as she bobs her head. Somi groans as she sucks your cock, her fingers slipping under her shorts and rubbing against her slit. “I’m so wet already,” she says, glancing at the camera and the chat speeding by. You place your grab onto Somi’s pigtails and thrust, pushing your cock into the back of her throat. Somi chokes on your cock, not expecting you to take charge. You give her a chance to adjust before beginning to thrust into her mouth. Your cock crashes against the back of Somi’s throat. Somi glances up, hunger in her eyes, as she places one of her hands on your thighs and lets you use her throat. Somi continues to play with herself, pushing her fingers into her wet cunt. She pushes them in and out of her slit, moaning against your cock as you drive your cock into her.

Saliva coats Somi’s mouth as you continue to thrust, your balls smack against her chin as she begins running out of breath. You don’t stop, though, you were enjoying fucking her throat too much, and you both knew her fans loved to see her become a mess. 

You held Somi against your crotch, watching as the young woman furiously fingered herself, her moans growing higher in pitch until you pulled out. You adjust Somi’s mask and rub your cock against her, she nuzzles it in response.

You grab Somi’s hand and pull her to her feet, making her face the camera. You reach up and pull off her blouse, showing her tits to the audience. You cup them, raising them slowly and dropping them, letting everyone see Somi’s tits bounce. “Take me already,” Somi moans, rubbing her ass against you. You keep one hand on Somi’s breast, pinching her nipple and making her whimper while you slowly pull down her shorts with the other.  

Moving to the bed, you bend Somi over it, making sure the camera has a good angle as you drive your hand into her ass. “Mmm!” You strike her again and again, her ass slowly turning red as you switch from cheek to cheek. You begin to slow down your smacks, letting the crowd take in the sight before moving Somi onto your lap. Rubbing your cock against her wet slit Somi looks at the camera, “He’s about to put it in everyone; make sure you watch carefully.” She says, her words slurring as you slip yourself inside her tight cunt. You move your hands to her thin waist, gripping it tightly as you move her up and down your shaft.  Somi’s moans flood the room as she takes your cock, feeling it stretch out her cunt. As you pick up the pace, her tits start bouncing, entertaining the audience as they watch the young woman beg for more. Each thrust crashes against her womb, making Somi’s body tingle as she rides you. 

Somi’s eyes go half-lidded as she continues to bounce on your cock; it was for show; her moans, though, were real. You shift one of your hands to her clit, gently flicking it and sending a shock through her system. “Oh shit,” She moaned, Somi leaned forward, hunched over as you teased her. She glanced up at the camera, ensuring everything was still going as you had your way with her. Somi could see tips flying in as everyone watched her getting fucked. She tried to figure out how much it was, but the pleasure coursing through her put her mind in a fog. Before she could try to clear her mind, you put your arm over her chest and pulled her back, holding her down as your thrust became quicker. Your muffled groans came quickly as you neared your climax. Somi could feel your cock begin to throb inside her, “He’s going to cum!” Somi yelled out, throwing her head back to show her face as you buried your length inside her. Not a second later, you were flooding Somi’s cunt with your cum. Her body tensed around your cock, milking it as she continued to moan. 

“Oh, fuck,” Somi laughed, “I feel so full everyone. Did you cum for me too?” She asks them before giggling. Somi pushes herself off you, letting your cum run down her leg, before turning around and bending over. “Can you see how he filled me up?” She asks before sneaking her mouth around your cock again, lapping up your semen as she spreads her folds and lets everyone glimpse at her swollen cunt. 

“I wonder how many more times you’ll cum,” Somi whispers as she wraps her lips around your cock and pulls back. Somi looks over her shoulder and looks at the camera, “Alright, everyone, you’re going to see what it’s like when I’m in charge of riding.” Somi pushes you onto your back and straddles you, rubbing your cock between her folds before impaling herself onto it. 

You and Somi continue the marathon of sex, stopping on occasion but fulfilling all twelve hours. Somi barely has enough energy to turn off the stream and return to bed. Her legs are shaky after the many orgasms and the soreness she feels. Through the twelve hours, you had cum inside Somi so many times you forgot the exact number; you hadn’t put it all in her cunt either, switching between all three holes she had. Cum was flowing between her legs as it leaked out of her gaping asshole and cunt. You take off the bear mask and look at Somi. “Are you going to be able to do anything tomorrow? You’re going to be super sore.” 

Somi didn’t respond; she was already sleeping. Her saliva and your cum mixed as it dripped onto the mattress. You chuckle and leave her there, covering her with her clothes before taking a shower and leaving the young woman for the night. 

[ruewritesoccasionally]

Friction & Flames | Terry Richmond

pairing: terry richmond x black!reader

warnings: smut (18+), workplace rivalry, power dynamics, forced proximity, angst, rough sex, oral (f receiving), light hair pulling, explicit language, possessiveness, a lot of dialogue, a little slow burn and Terry being an absolute menace (but we love him).

summary: a classic enemies-to-lovers showdown: sharp words, sharper tension, and a deadline that forces them into close quarters. When tempers flare and restraint snaps, her and Terry finally settle their differences - in their own way...

word count: 6.4K

a/n: this came out much longer than intended 😭 this is a reupload, just reworked - the original didn't do as well as i would've liked but also it wasn't my best work. i'm much happier with it now though and i hope you guys are too 🫶🏾

The alarm buzzed, shrill and relentless. She groaned, blindly slapping at the snooze button before peeling herself out of bed. Coffee brewed while she moved through her morning routine—shower, dress, make-up—each step as precise and efficient as the last. The world felt easier when it followed structure, when things happened as they should.

Which was exactly why he drove her insane.

Terry Richmond had no regard for order, for rules, for method. He operated on instinct, on charm, on raw talent that somehow, infuriatingly, got him just as far as the meticulous planning she slaved over. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. But it was the reality she faced every single day as his co-lead project manager.

By the time she arrived at the office, it was still quiet—just the way she liked it. These early mornings were her sanctuary, the only time of day when she could get ahead without distraction. But of course, peace never lasted long.

The telltale hum of easy conversation carried through the space, growing louder as he made his usual rounds. Schmoozing. Charming. Doing absolutely nothing useful. She didn’t even have to look up to know Terry had entered the room.

“Morning, everyone,” his voice rang out, smooth as silk.

Her fingers paused over the keyboard. Not yet. Not today. She kept her gaze locked on her screen, willing him away with sheer willpower.

No such luck.

“Well, well, Princess” he drawled, stopping beside her desk. “I see someone made it in without getting lost. Impressive.”

Her jaw tightened as she slowly swiveled in her chair, eyes locking onto his. That smirk. That self-satisfied, arrogant, infuriating smirk.

“For the last time, Terrance,” she said, enunciating his full name like a curse, “it’s not Sweetheart, it’s not Babygirl, and it’s definitely not Princess. Now turn around and—”

“Terrance,” he interrupted with a hand over his chest, feigning a wound to his heart. “Damn. And here I was, thinking we were past the formalities.”

Her glare could’ve set the whole office ablaze, but he only grinned wider, like he enjoyed the fire.

He always did.

The smug grin Terry shot her before he strolled to his desk was enough to make her want to hurl her coffee at him. Bastard. He knew exactly how to get under her skin, and he did it with a deliberate ease that made her blood boil. She inhaled deeply, gripping her pen tighter than necessary, willing herself to stay calm. The workday had barely begun, and he was already pressing every button she had.

It had been like this for years. Their competition wasn’t just petty office bickering—it was a game of survival. A slow-burning, high-stakes war waged between two people too damn good at what they did to ever back down.

The promotions? She’d landed hers first. The biggest client of last quarter? He’d swooped in and stolen it from right under her nose. Every time she thought she had the upper hand, Terry Richmond would find a way to level the playing field—or tilt it entirely in his favour.

And he loved it.

She could see it in the way he watched her now, that knowing glint in his stormy grey eyes as if he was waiting for her to snap.

Not today.

Before she could drown him out with work, Linda’s heels clicked against the floor, her presence snapping the room into silence. Linda was direct, no-nonsense, and not easily impressed—so when she stopped by their desks instead of addressing the entire team, something was up.

“This next campaign is the biggest account we’ve landed all year,” she started, flipping through the folder in her hands. “Which means I need our best people on it.”

She paused—just for a beat—before letting the inevitable bomb drop.

“I want both of you heading it.”

Her stomach twisted, and she barely managed to suppress a groan. Of course.

Terry leaned back in his chair, the picture of casual amusement. “Our best, huh? You sure you want to put her in the running, boss?”

Her jaw tightened. “I should be asking the same about you.”

Linda exhaled sharply. “Enough. I don’t care how you two feel about it—I care about results. And between the two of you, I expect nothing but success.”

Linda’s expression remained impassive as she looked between them. “I don’t care how you two feel about it. This job is crucial, and it needs to be done. Quickly.” Her voice was sharp, clipped, leaving no room for argument. “In fact, why don’t you use tonight to start planning? Somewhere neutral. Off-site. No distractions.”

The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. The mere suggestion of being alone together outside of work sent an undercurrent of something charged through the air.

Terry’s smirk stretched wider, like a cat toying with a trapped bird. “Neutral, huh? Guess that rules out your place, Princess.”

Her jaw clenched at the nickname, her irritation simmering just beneath the surface. “Don’t call me that,” she hissed, voice razor-sharp.

Linda, either blissfully unaware or purposefully ignoring the crackling tension, made a quick note on her clipboard. “That’s settled, then. I expect a full report by tomorrow morning.” She barely spared them a glance before walking away, her heels clicking against the floor in sharp finality.

Terry, ever insufferable, watched her go before turning his gaze back to the woman standing in front of him. His smirk hadn’t faltered once.

“Looks like we’re stuck with each other tonight,” he murmured, voice low, teasing.

She shot him a withering glare, but deep down, she already knew—this was going to be a very, very long night.

The words settled like a weight in the air. She hated that Linda was right. Neither of them would ever willingly bow out of something like this, not when winning meant getting one step ahead of the other.

And Terry knew it too.

He tipped his chin toward her, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. “What do you say, sweetheart? Think you can keep up?”

She refused to look at him, refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, she turned to Linda and gave a curt nod. “Fine. I assume we’re getting full creative control?”

Linda returned the nod. “Within reason.”

“We’ll see about that,” Terry murmured under his breath.

Linda gave them one last pointed glance before walking off, leaving the tension behind her thick enough to choke on.

She should have just let it go. She should have focused on the work, ignored him like he was nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing in her ear.

But then she saw it—his damn smirk widening, like he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to bite back.

Slowly, she turned her head to him, keeping her expression neutral. “Try not to get in my way, Richmond.”

His gaze flickered with amusement, but he leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice. “I wouldn’t dream of it, babygirl.”

Her fists clenched at her sides as she bit back a retort. She was going to need every ounce of patience to survive this.

The hours ticked by, and as expected, Terry took his sweet time getting back to her about the details of their meeting. She wasn’t surprised. He loved making her wait, forcing her to reach out first. But she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. Not tonight.

She went about her evening, refusing to check her phone, knowing that the moment she did, he’d win. And she’d sooner staple her own hand than let him believe she was sitting around, waiting on him.

When her phone finally buzzed, she ignored it for a few minutes before opening the message with deliberate disinterest.

Terry: Meet me at my place. 10 PM. Try not to get too distracted tonight, Princess.

She exhaled sharply through her nose, her fingers tightening around the phone. She should have known. Of course he’d make this as inconvenient as possible. Not a café, not a bar, not even the office—his place. A blessing in disguise to be honest. There was no way she’d let him pollute the sanctuary of her own home with presence.

He was testing her.

She could decline. Tell him to meet somewhere neutral, somewhere that wouldn’t give him the upper hand. But then he’d smirk that insufferable smirk and say something smug about her being too scared to be alone with him.

And she refused to give him that, too.

So she texted back.

Her: Fine.

The response was short, devoid of anything he could twist into a game. Still, she knew he’d find a way.

Standing in front of his door, irritation coursed through her, tangled with something deeper—something she refused to name. She wasn’t nervous. That would imply he had some kind of power over her, and he didn’t. He didn’t.

The door swung open, and there he was: Terry Richmond, leaning lazily against the frame and she was immediately annoyed. He looked too good. Smug satisfaction lined his face, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing inked skin stretched over muscle.

"My, my, my," he drawled, letting his gaze sweep over her with deliberate slowness. "Don’t you look stunning. Don’t tell me you dressed up for me."

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Terry, you’re on my time now—use it wisely," she snapped, slicing through his charm before it could gain traction.

Terry raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering for a split second as he clocked her no-nonsense mood. He adjusted quickly, though, stepping aside and gesturing her in with a lazy wave. "Come on in, then. We wouldn’t want to waste your precious time, would we?"

“Didn’t think you’d show.” His voice was lazy, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

She tried pushing past him but he blocked her movements. “I’m here to work, not play into your little games.”

He finally moved, shutting the door behind her, a low chuckle escaping him. “Princess, everything we do is a game.”

She walked past him, jaw tightened, but she ignored him, scanning the apartment instead. It was neat, too neat. The kind of place that suggested he didn’t spend much time here, that it was more of a crash pad than a home. Still, it smelled like him—clean, woodsy, with a faint trace of cologne—and the familiarity of it made her stomach tighten.

Terry shut the door, watching her. Always watching. "Drink?"

"No."

He hummed, pouring himself a glass of whiskey anyway. "Suit yourself."

She moved to the dining table, pulling out her laptop. "Let’s just get this done."

Terry exhaled dramatically, taking the seat across from her. "So eager. You always this desperate to get away from me?"

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she met his gaze, bored. "Depends. You always this desperate to keep me around?"

His lips curled. "Oh, always, sweetheart."

She hated the way her pulse betrayed her. The way his voice dripped with a promise she refused to decipher.

As the night stretched on, she noticed his focus drifting—not from the project, but from her. His gaze lingered too long, tracing the line of her throat when she sipped her drink, flicking to her mouth when she spoke, dropping to her bare legs beneath the table.

She knew the exact moment he stopped caring about work.

“Tired?” she asked, feigning innocence.

Terry leaned back in his chair, stretching leisurely. “Bored.”

“Because you’re losing?”

His smirk deepened. “You think this is a competition?”

She mirrored his expression. “Isn’t it?”

The words hung heavy between them, thick with something unspoken. Something neither of them wanted to name.

Shaking it off, she focused on the task at hand. They settled into work, heads bent over the project, their focus sharp. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to believe this might actually be productive.

But Terry was Terry, and peace was never part of his repertoire.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know what they were supposed to be doing—he did. But slipping in his usual jabs was second nature, like breathing. Whether it was the clash of egos, his compulsive need to compete with her, or sheer stupidity, he couldn’t seem to help himself.

To her credit, she let it slide. For now. His behaviour, by his standards, was almost tolerable, and she kept her focus on the task at hand. So much so that she barely noticed the way his eyes lingered on her.

Terry wasn’t focused on the proposal anymore. His gaze drifted, taking in every detail: the shimmer of gloss on her lips as she spoke, the way her movements carried an effortless grace even in her irritation. He wasn’t oblivious to the effect she had on him.

She walked into every room with a quiet confidence that drew him in, her voice carrying an authority that demanded attention. And it drove him mad that she seemed entirely unaffected by him. Her refusal to acknowledge his flirtations turned into a game he couldn’t resist playing. He loved riling her up, watching her react. Every glare, every clapback—it all meant she cared, and that’s what he wanted.

He leaned back in his chair, letting her take the lead on the project, though his mind had long since wandered. His eyes lingered on the way she crossed her legs, the slight arch of her back as she leaned forward to emphasise her point. He imagined how it would feel to have her closer, to—

And then he couldn’t resist.

“So," he drawled, his voice low, carrying that signature teasing edge, "how many other guys would kill to be in my position right now?"

That was it.

Something inside her snapped. Her face flushed, anger blazing in her eyes as she shot to her feet. Fists clenched at her sides, she fixed him with a glare that could melt steel.

"You arrogant, son of a—"

But she didn’t get the chance to finish.

Terry was already grinning, wider than ever, his expression one of pure satisfaction. He basked in the chaos he’d created, every ounce of her fury a testament to his power to get under her skin.

He leaned back, utterly unbothered, his smirk taking on a wicked gleam. He’d pushed her to this point, and he loved it. Relished it. This was his game, and he was playing it to perfection.

The tension in the room shifted—thick, potent, and almost suffocating. He moved toward her with a predatory grace, every step deliberate, his presence commanding. Placing his hands firmly on the armrests of her chair, he caged her in, leaving no room for escape.

Trapped and surrounded by his heat, her senses were overwhelmed. But even as he asserted his dominance, one thought lingered in his mind: she would taste him later.

Leaning down, he lowered his voice to a murmur that sent shivers racing down her spine.

"You see how easy it is for me to get under your skin?" His breath ghosted against her neck, his lips barely brushing her ear in a tantalising tease.

"But between you and me," he continued, his tone thick with sinful intent, "I’d rather you be under me."

The hitch in her breath was almost imperceptible, but Terry caught it. Of course, he caught it. That was the thing about him—he noticed everything. The way her pulse flickered at her throat. The way her fingers clenched, then relaxed, then clenched again, like she was trying to fight off whatever was brewing inside her.

And the way she didn’t move away.

His smirk deepened, his hands still bracketing her chair, keeping her right where he wanted her.

“I can see you're thinking about it,” he murmured, his voice dipping into something richer, smoother, meant to sink under her skin. “We both know how this ends. Why fight it?”

She scoffed, though it came out weaker than she wanted. “You’re delusional.”

His lips twitched. There she was. “And yet,” he murmured, tilting his head, “you’re still standing here. Close enough to feel me.”

She swallowed hard.

Terry chuckled. Low, slow, like he had all the time in the world. He let one hand trail up the armrest of her chair, fingers grazing hers. Barely a touch. Just enough to make her breath hitch again.

Then, he leaned in. Closer.

She could smell the whiskey on his breath, the warmth of it mixing with something darker, something entirely him.

And she hated—hated—how badly she wanted more.

“You know what I think?” he murmured. “I think you like this. The arguing. The tension. The push and pull. I think it gets you off—”

She moved before she could second-guess herself. A sharp, frustrated sound left her throat as she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him down, her lips crashing against his.

Terry groaned, deep and guttural, as if he’d been waiting for this, aching for this. His hands found her waist, gripping tight, and then suddenly she wasn’t in the chair anymore—she was against it, her back pressed into the table as he stepped between her legs, pressing into her, all hard heat and impossible arrogance.

Her fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt, holding him there, not that he had any plans to go anywhere. His mouth was urgent against hers—hot, demanding, a perfect mirror to the fire that had been simmering between them for months.

She bit down on his lower lip, just hard enough to make him grunt.

Good, she thought, satisfaction curling in her stomach. If she was going down in flames, he was burning with her.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark, wild, consuming.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that,” he murmured, his thumb dragging over her bottom lip.

She licked the tip of it, just to watch his jaw tighten.

“I think I have some idea,” she teased, voice breathless, electric.

Terry’s eyes darkened, amusement flickering into something sharper. Hungrier.

“Alright, Princess,” he murmured, voice dropping to something low, something dangerous. “You wanna play?”

The air shifted.

The power balance tilted.

And neither of them were backing down.

Terry let out a slow, dangerous chuckle. Then he kissed her again—deeper, harder, bruising in its intensity.

His hands gripped her waist with practiced ease, lifting her effortlessly to her feet as he closed the remaining distance between them. Their bodies collided, his heat searing against hers. His lips crashed into hers with an intensity that was anything but gentle—a clash of teeth and tongues, raw and unrestrained. She tasted like temptation, and for a fleeting moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

She met him with equal fervour, her fingers threading into his hair and tugging him closer, pulling a low growl from his throat. He took it as permission to push further, his lips leaving hers to trail down her jawline. His teeth grazed her skin, nipping lightly before soothing the spot with his tongue.

As they pulled apart, his smirk spread, slow and calculated, dripping with satisfaction. His eyes gleamed with the knowledge of what he’d just unleashed. The storm between them was no longer just a simmering rivalry—it was a blaze, out of control, and neither one of them knew how to stop it.

“You think you’ve got this figured out, don’t you?” His voice was rougher now, all edge and low heat. There was an unspoken challenge in the air. He was no longer just teasing—this was war, and the rules had changed.

Her heart raced, her pulse thundering in her ears, but she refused to let him see the effect he was having. Instead, she shot him a pointed look. “I’ve got more than you think.”

He chuckled, the sound dark and mocking. “Always so sure of yourself, aren’t you?” He pushed off the desk, the sudden movement bringing them closer, his towering presence stealing her breath away. His eyes never left hers, hungry, predatory.

They were circling each other now, neither willing to show weakness, both battling for dominance. The air around them felt too thick, too heavy, but neither of them could make the first move. The competition had always been fierce, but this? This was something different. Something primal.

Her gaze flickered to the clock on the wall, as if time could be her ally. “I’m just here to finish the job,” she said, trying to sound detached, but the words caught in her throat, betraying her. They both knew it was more than that.

Terry’s gaze softened, just for a moment. Then he was back to his usual cocky self, pressing closer. “It’s funny,” he murmured, voice quieter now, like he was letting her in on a secret. “You act like I’m the one distracting you.” His fingers brushed the edge of her desk, and the simple movement was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

Her clenched her fists at her sides. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

She was playing right into his hands. Lowering himself further, his lips brushed along the line of her jaw, his breath hot and unrelenting as he whispered, "Nuh-uh. That’s not how this works, sweetheart. You’re in my house now." His voice dropped even lower, the words landing with weight. "And you play by my rules."

Fully closing the space now, his breath warm against her skin. “You always know how to keep things interesting, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his breath warm against her flushed skin.

It was a challenge. A dare. And it hit harder than any insult or word they’d thrown at each other before.

His proximity was intoxicating. She could feel his heat radiating off him, like a physical presence pressing against her own, testing her resolve. For a moment, she considered backing away, but something about the way he looked at her—so assured, so relentless—made it impossible to move.

His fingers grazed her wrist, just barely, the touch lingering enough to make her skin burn. She could feel her breath quicken, the air around them thick with unspoken words. The space between them was dangerously small now, and neither one of them was backing down.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" she asked, voice a little more breathless than she'd intended.

Terry’s smile turned devilish, the playful glint in his eyes sharpening. “What would be the fun in that?” he said, then stepped back, breaking the spell with a sudden, disarming ease. He ran a hand through his hair, cocky as ever. “Let’s see who cracks first, then.”

Her pulse quickened at the challenge, the tension between them building with every word. Neither of them was prepared to lose. Not this time. And as the clock ticked on, the battle between them grew more intense, the stakes impossibly high.

His hands moved with purpose, one slipping to the small of her back while the other pressed against her hip, guiding her until her back met the solid surface of the nearest wall. The coolness against her skin was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from him, pressing into her with an intensity that made her breath hitch. Every nerve in her body was alive, her senses alight with the overwhelming presence of him.

She wanted to snap back, to hurl something biting, to put him in his place with that razor-sharp tongue of hers—but nothing came. Her thoughts were too hazy, clouded by the way he towered over her, by the way his body felt against hers. His presence was magnetic, undeniable, and it was pulling her under like a riptide she had no hope of escaping.

Then his hand brushed against her arm—a barely-there touch, yet it sent a bolt of electricity straight to her core. A sharp breath left her lips. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. She hated him, truly, deeply. But she wanted him just as fiercely. And no matter how much she tried to deny it, to shove it down where it couldn't be touched, it clawed its way back to the surface.

Terry took another step closer, deliberate, unhurried, his confidence infuriatingly steady. His fingers trailed lower, sliding to the small of her back again, and this time, he pulled her in. Every inch of her was flush against him now, the heat between them scorching, the last remnants of distance obliterated.

“What’s it gonna be, sweetheart?” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice dripping with challenge. “You gonna keep pretending? Or are you ready to stop fighting this?”

The words settled heavy between them, the weight of them undeniable. The world outside blurred, irrelevant. All she could hear was the deafening pound of her own heartbeat, the ragged pull of her breath.

And then, like a dam breaking, every pent-up emotion, every unresolved moment between them came crashing down.

Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt before she could stop herself, a sharp tug pulling him into her space. She wasn’t following his lead anymore—this wasn’t about his challenge, his rules. She was setting the pace now. She was in control.

His smirk deepened, as if he’d been waiting for this exact moment. But she didn’t give him the satisfaction of gloating. She surged forward, her lips crashing into his with a force that stole the breath from both of them.

Terry groaned against her mouth, the sound raw, almost desperate. Then his hands were on her again, moving with an urgency that sent a fresh wave of heat through her. He caught her wrists in one swift motion, lifting her arms above her head, pinning them effortlessly against the wall. His body followed suit, pressing her there, letting her feel the weight of him, the full brunt of his control.

For just a second, he held her like that—let her feel the shift, let her know exactly who had the upper hand now.

Then his lips crashed into hers again, rough, unrelenting.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was everything they had never said, everything they had pushed down, everything that had burned between them from the very first moment they met.

The room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in, trapping them in the storm they had created. Her pulse pounded against her ribs as his hands slid down, gripping her waist and pulling her tighter against him. His touch was firm, possessive, but there was something else beneath it—a quiet, maddening restraint, like even now, he was holding back.

She arched against him, breathless, defiant.

“Do you feel that?” he murmured, his lips a hair’s breadth from hers, his voice dark, taunting. “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Her breath shuddered as she stared up at him, her mind a blur of want and frustration, her body betraying her with the way it leaned into his.

And the worst part?

She had been waiting for it too.

The arrogance in his tone should have pissed her off. She should have shoved him away, thrown a cutting remark to put him back in his place. But instead, his words sent a shiver down her spine, pooling heat low in her belly. Her heart pounded—loud, insistent—as if trying to warn her, but she knew he could hear it, feel it, just like she could feel the heat radiating off him, pressing into her.

She hated that he had this effect on her. Hated how effortlessly he stripped away her defences, unravelled her completely with nothing but a look, a touch, a single taunting word.

In a blink, she found herself against the wall, the hard surface biting into her back, his body caging hers in. She should have fought it, should have snapped something defiant—but she didn’t. The space between them dissolved, his lips hovering just inches from hers, his breath warm against her skin.

“Do you want me to stop?” His voice was thick, roughened with something unreadable. It almost sounded like concern. But she knew better. This wasn’t concern. This was a test. A challenge. A game of control, of willpower, of just how far he could push her before she shattered.

Her lips parted, but hesitation caught in her throat. Because if she said no, she couldn’t take it back.

Terry’s fingers skimmed the side of her thigh, his touch maddeningly light, a whisper of contact that made her body jolt in anticipation. The bastard was waiting. Letting the silence stretch. Letting her squirm under the weight of her own restraint.

Her nails curled into his chest, tension coiling tight in her stomach, and she knew she was at the edge—dangling over it.

Then, barely audible, she whispered, “No.”

His smirk was slow, dangerous. “That’s my girl.”

Then his mouth crashed into hers.

There was nothing soft about it. No careful prelude, no tentative exploration—just pure, unchecked hunger. He kissed her like he wanted to brand her, own her, stake his claim right there against that cold, unforgiving wall. And she met him just as fiercely, dragging him in by the collar, teeth clashing, tongues tangling in a battle of dominance neither was willing to concede.

His hands moved with intent, sliding beneath her shirt, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of her ribs before finding the swell of her breasts. He cupped them through the thin lace, his thumbs circling over her nipples with infuriating precision. A sharp gasp left her lips, her body betraying her, arching into his touch instead of away.

Terry hummed against her mouth, amusement flickering through the kiss. “So sensitive,” he murmured, dragging her shirt higher, exposing her inch by inch like he had all the time in the world. “You needed this, didn’t you?”

She wanted to deny it, wanted to bite out something sharp to wipe that smirk off his face, but then his teeth grazed her jaw, his lips dragging down her throat, and any words she might have had died in a sharp inhale.

His hands were ruthless now, dragging her skirt up, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her knickers. The moment he found her, slick and wanting, a curse left his lips.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his breath hot against her skin. “Look at you.”

Her thighs tensed, heat surging through her, but before she could process the words, before she could react, he was gone.

The sudden loss of his touch made her shudder, her breath catching—but then he dropped to his knees.

Her stomach clenched.

Strong hands gripped her thighs, pried them apart, lifting one over his shoulder with unrelenting ease. He didn’t speak, didn’t offer any more smug remarks. He just stared up at her, dark eyes gleaming with wicked intent, and then—

His mouth was on her.

A choked gasp tore from her lips, her head knocking back against the wall. His tongue was relentless, dragging over her with obscene precision, tasting her like he’d been starving for it. Her fingers twisted into his hair, her grip tight enough to hurt, but he only groaned, the vibrations sending another wave of heat crashing through her.

She refused to give in so easily. She refused to let him win.

But then he sucked—slow and devastatingly deep—and her entire body jerked, a whimper slipping free before she could stop it.

Terry chuckled against her, the sound smug, knowing. His grip on her thigh tightened, a silent warning, and then his fingers joined the fray—two slipping inside her, filling her with an unrelenting precision that had her shuddering against the wall.

Her resolve shattered.

“Terry—”

He grinned, curling his fingers just right, hitting that spot that had her thighs shaking. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured against her, voice thick with satisfaction. “Let me hear you.”

She had no choice. He tore the sounds from her, made her body betray her again and again, driving her higher, dragging her over the edge with devastating ease. And when it finally hit, when pleasure crashed through her like a violent storm, her body seized, her breath strangled, her fingers yanking at his hair as she cried out his name.

Terry didn’t stop. He worked her through every wave, every tremor, didn’t let go until she was fully spent, trembling, utterly undone.

Then, finally, he pulled back, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth.

“Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmured, his voice smug, satisfied. Then he rose, towering over her once again, his gaze locking onto hers as he wiped the last traces of her from his lips.

And God help her, she wanted more.

Neither of them had the patience—or the inclination—to take this upstairs. The moment stretched, charged, heavy with the weight of everything unspoken. Every second they waited only made it worse.

Terry’s hands were already on her, firm and insistent, guiding her towards the couch like he couldn’t bear even an inch of distance between them.

“Right here,” he growled, voice low and commanding. “I’m done waiting.”

She didn’t protest. Couldn’t. Her breath hitched as he turned her around, rough hands gripping her hips with purpose, bending her over the plush cushions. The anticipation was maddening, her skin buzzing under the ghost of his touch as his fingers trailed down her back, slow, deliberate—like he was savouring the moment, relishing her submission.

“Stay just like that,” he murmured, his voice dark silk, but his hands were anything but gentle. The rush of air against her thighs sent a shudder through her as he pushed her skirt up, his fingers dragging over the lace of her underwear before slipping them down in one smooth motion.

A sharp inhale cut through the silence. He wasn’t even touching her, but she felt it—his gaze, the weight of it scorching her skin.

“Fuck,” he muttered, almost to himself. “You’re perfect.”

Her nails curled into the fabric beneath her, fighting for something to ground her, but then Terry was pressing against her, all heat and hunger, the hard evidence of his arousal making her breath falter.

“Say it.” His voice was thick, strained, heavy with restraint he was barely holding onto. “Tell me you want this.”

She clenched her jaw, heart pounding. He wouldn’t move until she said it. Wouldn’t give her what she was aching for.

Her resolve cracked, her need eclipsing her pride. “I want this,” she whispered, her voice barely more than breath. Then, stronger—daring. “I want you.”

That was all it took.

His grip tightened—one hand pressing into the small of her back, the other bracing her hip—before he thrust into her in one fluid movement.

A broken gasp tore from her lips, her body arching as he filled her completely, stretching her, owning her. There was no hesitation, no restraint. He took her with raw, unrelenting force, his movements deep and demanding, fuelled by the same tension that had kept them at odds for so long.

His fingers dug into her skin, holding her still, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. “So fucking good,” he groaned, voice wrecked, like he was barely holding himself together. “Better than I ever let myself imagine.”

She barely registered the words. Her mind was slipping, drowning in the rhythm of him, the way he moved, the way he took. Every deep stroke unravelled her, pulling her further under, until all she could do was surrender to it—to him.

Terry leaned in, his chest flush against her back, his breath hot against her ear as his hand slid into her braids, tugging just enough to tilt her head back. “Don’t hold back, baby.” His voice was a rough whisper, wicked and coaxing. “I want to hear you.”

And she did.

Her moans spilled into the room, raw and unrestrained, each sound sending a fresh surge of heat through him. He rewarded her for it, driving into her with punishing precision, wringing every reaction from her until she was teetering on the edge, trembling, gasping—

Then she shattered.

A sharp cry broke from her lips as pleasure tore through her, leaving her breathless, undone. She felt him falter, his pace growing erratic, his grip tightening—then, with a deep, guttural groan, he followed her over the edge, his release spilling into her as he collapsed against her, spent.

Silence settled over them, save for their ragged breaths.

Terry’s hands, once rough and claiming, softened on her hips, tracing slow, lazy circles against her skin. He eased out of her, lingering for just a moment longer before stepping back, watching as she pulled herself together.

Then, with all the composure she could muster, YN wiped her mouth and turned to face him, lips curling into something wicked. “Well,” she said, smoothing her skirt down, “I suppose we can’t call it a productive meeting until we actually finish that proposal, huh?”

Terry chuckled, raking a hand through his messy hair, looking every bit as wrecked as she felt. “Oh, don’t worry,” he drawled, flashing that signature, lazy grin. “We’ll get it done. I work best under pressure… just like tonight.”

She arched a brow, crossing her arms. “Funny,” she shot back, “you didn’t seem too worried about the deadline when you were too busy getting under my skin.”

His grin widened, smug, infuriatingly charming. “Well, now that I’ve got you warmed up, I’m sure the rest of the work will be a breeze.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Let’s just make sure we finish before Linda decides to make one of her famous surprise appearances.”

Terry laughed, shaking his head as he reached for his laptop. “Agreed. But next time—neutral ground, alright?”

“Next time?” she echoed, tilting her head. “You’re really pushing your luck, Terry.”

He leaned back, flashing her a wink. “Don’t worry, babygirl, I’m not done with you yet.”

And as they turned their attention back to the proposal, the tension between them still hummed in the air, thick and unresolved. They both knew this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718 @notapradagurl7 @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy @wildcardmelaninfreak

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[xoluvx]

could you do like reader is ovulating while billie is on tour so they have a quickie in her dressing room?? ur literally like the best billie writer on here

ofc baby enjoy and thank you loveeee you’re so sweet 💖🥺

you'd been clinging onto her all day. she just looked so delicious. everything she wore drove you absolutely feral. it didn't help that you were ovulating and all you wanted was for her to fuck the life out of you. you needed her in unimaginable ways. wanted her in inexplicable forms. when you touched her arm, you thought of the ways she could wrap them around you. when you felt her neck, you could feel her lips on your own as she pinned you on the mattress.

it got so bad you whimpered in her ear as she ate her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. you almost had to wipe your drool. you were beyond desperate. as she ate, you brought a finger to the side of her mouth where a bit of jelly clung to her face. wiping it with your index finger, you placed it in front of her face showing her the mess. she looked at your jelly covered finger, closed her eyes, leaned forward and pulled your finger into her mouth. you moaned draping your leg over her thigh practically straddling her.

billie smirked when she released your finger loving the effect she had on you. she loved watching you squirm. get you all worked up. make you think she wasn't gonna give it up. she knew you were ovulating and it just felt like a cruel cruel prank that she was dragging this out. all right up to the point where you were both in her dressing room picking out the outfit she was going to wear that night before touching up her makeup.

when she looked at you through the mirror with those hooded eyelids and the dark eyeliner, you resisted the urge to moan. to strip your clothes and have her look at your naked reflection. to lean over the counter and see if she'd rail you or continue torturing you like she had all day. she bit her lip, turned, and leaned against the counter motioning with her head to come over. like a wild animal pouncing on its prey, you trashed your body towards her wrapping your arms around her shoulders.

"quickie," she mumbled against you lips as she tugged on your bottoms. you nodded desperately. whimpering into her mouth. humming as your pants fell down to your ankles. she twirled your bodies when you stepped out of them pushing you against the counter. you gasped when your back hit the edge, but you were too fucking horny to care. you were sure it was going to bruise, but the only thing that mattered was billie getting on her knees. billie hiking up your leg. billie parting your folds with her tongue watching you with those piercing blue eyes that just popped with the black eyeliner.

her tongue rotated on your clit as you clung to the edge of the counter trying to keep your balance. you were failing. you were failing miserably reaching for the top of her head. the most pornographic and guttural moans escaped your body as you crumbled on top of her. she held your leg firmly so you couldn't close in around her face. she held you open as she feasted pushing herself closer to your cunt. her nose brushed on your pussy. her tongue slapped on your aching clit before dipping into your entrance and oh fuck you were going to explode. the built up to these ten minutes of glory had been so intense.

"five" the voice was loud like the knock that accompanied. it bounced off the walls and in any other circumstance, you would've been startled and scrambling to get her out of her dressing room. today.. today you were so lost in the pleasurable feeling of chasing your high that you completely ignored it. you only swayed your hips faster as billie fucked you with her tongue. as her fingers pierced through your thighs. as you moaned her name so loud you were forgetting all other words in your vocabulary. it was just 'billie, billie, billie' through jagged breath and chokes as she inserted two fingers and that's all it took to lunge yourself forward. folding as you came on her tongue. a wave of relief washing over your body as she resurfaced. her lips glistening. eyeliner running.

"one minute," you muttered as she shook her head with an incredulous smile. you smirked and you wiped her lips. you were never really good at quickies.

[temporarywelcome]

Smooth Criminal - Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Spencer has been extremely secretive about his girlfriend of the past year, so much so that even Garcia can't find information on her. Till today, and her.... interesting ...past leaves everyone flabbergasted.

Warnings: light swearing

-----------------------------

Spencer’s had a girlfriend.

In fact, he’s had a girlfriend for almost a year at this point and she has not met his friends even once. He was so secretive with this girlfriend that the rest of the BAU couldn’t get any information about her. Not even a name, leaving Garcia in anguish. 

Everyone was dying to know about this mystery girl that has taken up most of the boy genius’ free time. 

And finally, Garcia cracked the code. 

As the team walked down the halls of work towards the exit, all exhausted and ready to go home, Morgan asked if Spencer had needed a ride.

“It’s pretty late to take a taxi,” Morgan had said. Everyone knows Reid barely drives for whatever reason. He frequently took taxis or carpooled.

Reid just shook his head, “It’s fine, thank you.” 

And that was that.

However, Garcia didn’t remember seeing him flag down a taxi. She didn’t remember seeing him walk off into the night.

And so she found herself in front of her computer typing away, already having a feeling as to how Reid left the office. She could get in trouble for this…

If she got caught.

But she won’t, because she’s Penelope Garcia,the most amazing tech analyst to grace the Earth. 

And there it was. 

She watched the camera footage of the parking garage, following Spencer’s movements of the night before, camera to camera. She followed him, until he stopped next to a car, opening the passenger side and getting in.

Then the car drove off.

Someone drove into the parking lot with the intention of picking up Spencer. And she was pretty sure she knew who. Especially because this didn’t seem like a random occurrence. Going back a few weeks (she really needed a hobby it seemed), she found this car would pick Spencer up quite frequently. 

So she tracked the license plate, finally finding the name of this mystery woman. Y/N L/N. And that’s when Garcia fell down the rabbit hole…

That same day, Morgan stood in front of Spencer’s desk, arms crossed with an annoying smirk on his face. He obviously had something to say. 

“Morgan, I feel you hovering,” Spencer muttered, closing the manila folder on his desk and looking up at his colleague. “What is it?”

“So… what are you doing after work? Wanna get some beers?”

“No thanks, I have plans already.”

“Oh, yeah? With who?” 

“With-” Spencer’s eyes narrowed at Morgan in suspicion, “Why are you asking?”

“Answering a question with a question, huh?” Morgan chuckled, “C’mon, Reid, are you going to be with your little girlfriend?” 

“She’s quite tall actually,” 

“You know what I mean,” he turned to walk away, “Have fun with Y/N, pretty boy,” 

“What the f-” Reid gasped as Morgan stalked off, “How do you know her name?!” 

Morgan ignored his question, Rossi coming at him next to bother him. 

Straight from Garcia’s computer-adorned office. 

“A criminal, Reid?” Rossi exclaimed, slapping a file down onto his desk.

“Garcia told you?!” Spencer groaned, head going into his hands. “I can’t have any privacy?”

“Hey, look at me!” Rossi was completely appalled by the information he had found, “You’re an FBI agent! Dating a criminal!”

“Weren’t you a mobster or are we just going to forget that…?” JJ grumbled from her own desk, averting her gaze when Rossi shot her a look. 

Spencer dropped his hands from his face, “Rossi, look-”

“I bet that’s why you’ve been so secretive,” Dave concluded, “Because you knew Garcia would find out about your felon girlfriend. Look, she even gave me printouts,” He gestured to the file he threw onto Spencer’s desk. 

“She did petty crimes,” Spencer scoffed in defense of his girlfriend. 

“She robbed people for sport. Her mother was wealthy. Her father was a cop.” 

“Daughter of a cop, girlfriend of an FBI agent, and a robber? Interesting,” Prentiss joined the interrogation. 

“Where did you come from…” Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “She didn’t do it for sport. She just… well…”

“She’s a diagnosed kleptomaniac,” Rossi opened the file and pulled out a document of proof, “Now how the hell did you manage to date a kleptomaniac?”

Spencer opened his mouth to answer, but Prentiss answered for him, “They knew each other in high school back in Vegas,” she said, looking through the folder for the information Garcia told her. 

“Yes,” Spencer grumbled, “She was a freshman when I was a senior.”

“When you were twelve?” Rossi deadpanned. 

“Yes,” he repeated, “She actually helped me a lot with bullies.” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “She stole a lot of their things…” 

“And you find that attractive?” Rossi asked. 

“No, I didn’t find anything attractive when I was twelve,” Spencer shot back, “I only knew her for that one year before I graduated and left. We reconnected last year and-”

“Ah, yes, two years after she had to be bailed out of jail for stealing from a gas station.” said Rossi, “Not even a good crime,”

“What would constitute for a good crime?” Prentiss wondered out loud.

“A bank or something.” Rossi replied, “Anyway-”

“I mean she did rob a bank before-” Spencer paused, then clamped his mouth shut. 

Rossi and Prentiss exchanged glances, before making eye contact with JJ as well, who was now interested in the conversation. 

“She what” it didn’t even sound like a question coming out of Rossi’s mouth. 

Spencer quickly went to his girlfriend’s defense, “Not at gunpoint or anything! She just, uh, worked at the bank.”

“Jesus Christ,” Prentiss whistled, “Now this is intriguing,”

“I do not wish to speak about my girlfriend’s crimes anymore,” 

“Well we do,” Rossi grumbled, “So I’m assuming she hasn’t committed any more crimes?”

Spencer’s silence made Dave and Emily’s eyes widen. 

“You’re dating a current criminal-?” Emily began.

“Okay, look,” At this point, Spencer just wanted to leave and see his girlfriend, “Due to suffering from her kleptomania, her desire to steal is uncontrollable. Even when we met, she would constantly steal but return the object without the person knowing. I’ll admit, some of the robberies I’ve been… informed about, seem like they were more for fun, but that’s in the past, yeah?” 

“Yeah…” Emily wasn’t sure she should be convinced. 

“Yeah. Okay, I’m leaving now.” Spencer stood up, eyeing the file in Rossi’s hand, “And can you please get rid of that?”

“Well, can we meet her?” JJ asked from her desk, standing as well, “I didn’t stalk her like everyone else, but I’m still intrigued.”

“Thank you for being normal, JJ,” Spencer sighed, grabbing his bag.

Garcia burst out of her office, a devious look on her face, “Just looked at the cameras… A certain car is here waiting for Reid.” 

Spencer muttered under his breath as he sped off, already hearing footsteps following. He could hear Garcia tell Y/N’s whole life story to the group of Rossi, Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan who rejoined the group. 

“She’s a dancer in a big theatre a few cities over,” Garcia babbled, “They just finished Swan Lake. She Odette and everything! Oh and…”

Jesus Christ. 

“...and the last thing I found was that she used to run a Girls��� Generation blog,” Garcia finished.

“What’s that?” Morgan asked. 

“Girl group. She really likes Jessica, but she left or got kicked out or something. I learned so much girl group lore today.” 

“I also like Jessica’s sister, Krystal. She’s in a different group though,”

The team all froze, heads snapping comically at the same time to the owner of the voice. Y/N, the kleptomaniac that has somehow stolen Spencer Reid’s heart. She was leaning against her fancy car (Rossi pondered if it were stolen). 

“I had a blog for that group too,” she added, grinning at Garcia. She held out her arms, Reid shyly shuffling into her embrace. “But, well, I’d like to not remember either blog,” she whispered a ‘hey baby’ to Spencer, who mumbled something back, clearly embarrassed. 

“Um,” he cleared his throat, “Y/N, this is my team. Well, most of the team. Hotch isn’t here, thank God,” 

Y/N laughed, “They’ve been bothering you, baby? I’m guessing Penelope was the one who found out about me…” she scanned the small group and gestured towards Garcia, “You,” faced the others, “You’re Derek Morgan… Jennifer J… I’m not gonna lie, I can’t pronounce your last name-” JJ raised a brow. “-Emily Prentiss, and David Rossi.” she pointed out each agent before eyeing Garcia again, “You’re not the only stalker.” 

“Can we go now?” Spencer muttered, face already red, “I’m tired,” 

“Yeah, of course,” Y/N nodded. She looked at the team again, “It seems I’ve become a chauffeur, as this princess does not like to drive.” 

“Yeah, I’m gone,” Spencer grumbled, getting into the passenger seat.

“Oh, he so hates us now,” Morgan chuckled. 

Y/N shook her head, “Nah, he loves you guys. Well, as you all know, I’m Y/N,” She held out a hand to shake, politely shaking each member’s hand. “Should get going before said princess gets cranky,” She turned, heading back to the driver’s seat. “Oh yeah, Dave?” she looked over her shoulder and tossed a pair of keys at Rossi, who caught them.

His keys.

“Sorry,” she got into the car and drove off. 

“Kleptomaniac,” he said in awe, “She’s fast.”

“Didn’t even notice,” Emily agreed, watching the car as it created distance. 

“I don’t know how I feel about her,” JJ muttered, biting her lip, “I mean, is my name really that hard to pronounce?”

“Not at all,” said Garcia, “Spell, maybe,” 

_________________________

Once Y/N got back into the car, she noticed Spencer had turned off the music she had playing. “Um, Jessica was speaking,” she said jokingly.

He glanced at her, “Tell Jessica I apologize,” he said dryly. She was sure his team thought he was such a sweetheart, but damn, he gets cranky. Perhaps he saves that specially for her. 

“I’m guessing they saw my… record?”

“Mhm, Garcia made printouts,” 

“Ah, so they know about the bank incident…”

“One of them.”

“It won’t take long for them to find out about the other incidents,” she laughed. 

Spencer groaned, “I’m never going to hear the end of it… Now why did I decide dating a kleptomaniac was okay?”

Y/N just grinned, “Cuz I’m a smooth criminal, huh?” 

“Corny,” he grumbled, but the corners of his lips curled up. 

“Annie are you okay… are you okay…” Y/N trailed off, not knowing the lyrics. 

Spencer giggled like a kid; only she made him feel that way, “I don’t think Michael Jackson would appreciate that cover,”

“I don’t think Jessica would appreciate being silenced,” Y/N reached out, raising the volume of the music a tiny bit.

“Must we always speak of this woman as if we know her personally?” 

“Yes,”

--------

check out my pinned post for requests :)

[its-avalon-08]

can you write for max or carlos a fic where the reader is a billionaire and max or carlos is just a normal person with a 9-5 except that they don’t know reader is rich until she leaves her bank account open on her laptop or something similar? ❤️

money money money must be funny (cs55)

✦ pairing - carlos sainz x female!reader

✦ genre - carlos!not a driver, romance

Carlos Sainz wasn’t the type to snoop. He respected Y/N’s space—her home, her things, her boundaries. But today, as he casually walked into her apartment after work to wait for her, something caught his eye. Her laptop was on the kitchen counter, lid slightly ajar, and the screen had gone dark, but the faint hum of the device meant it was still on.

He didn’t mean to look. He really didn’t. But as he reached over to close it, a notification pinged, revealing her bank account summary. The number on the screen wasn’t just large—it was staggering. It looked more like a jackpot figure than an average person’s savings account.

Carlos froze. His thoughts swirled like a whirlwind. Was this even real? Had she won the lottery? Was Y/N secretly a crypto genius?

A loud buzz from his phone brought him back to reality—Y/N had texted that she’d be back in an hour. His first instinct was to laugh it off. She was probably just babysitting some wealthy CEO’s account or something. But the more he thought about it, the more the pieces started to fit.

That expensive bag she’d said was “on sale”? The first-edition watch she gave him for his birthday? And the sleek new car she drove, claiming it was a "company lease"?

He shut the laptop and paced around the apartment, fighting the urge to overthink. Why hadn’t she told him? Did she not trust him? Was she afraid of how he’d react?

When Y/N walked in, all smiles and carrying takeout, Carlos decided to play it cool.

“Hey, cariño,” she greeted, setting the bags down on the counter. “Hope you weren’t bored waiting for me.”

“Not at all,” he said, forcing a smile. “How was your day?”

“The usual. Meetings, emails, surviving on coffee. Yours?”

Carlos shrugged. “Not bad. I ran into something interesting, though.”

“Oh?” she asked, unpacking the food.

“Yeah,” he said nonchalantly, leaning against the counter. “I was browsing online earlier. You know, just random stuff. Came across this site that sells luxury bags. That brand you have—you said it was on sale, right?”

Y/N’s hands froze for a millisecond before she quickly recovered. “Uh, yeah. Got lucky, I guess. Why?”

Carlos tilted his head, pretending to think. “Just curious. Even on sale, they’re pretty pricey. Like… really pricey.”

She chuckled nervously. “Well, it was a one-time splurge. A treat-yourself moment.”

“Hmm,” he said, letting it drop—for now.

Later, while they were eating, he casually gestured to his watch. “You know, my coworkers keep asking me where I got this. I mean, it’s not every day you see something like this.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Really? Well, you deserve nice things.”

“True,” he said with a small smirk. “But I don’t think I could ever afford something like this on my own.”

She looked down at her food, her fork hovering mid-air. “Carlos, I—”

“You know,” he interrupted, trying to sound playful, “you never told me how you got it. Or that car. Or… well, a lot of things, actually.”

Y/N’s eyes darted up to meet his. “What are you trying to say?”

Carlos leaned back, giving her a pointed look. “Nothing. Just making conversation.”

She laughed nervously, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, I guess I’m just good at finding deals.”

“Right,” he said, dragging out the word. “Must be a talent of yours.”

The rest of the evening passed in a strange tension. Carlos didn’t push further, but the weight of unspoken questions lingered between them. Every now and then, he’d make an offhand comment—about the high-tech gadgets in her apartment or the exclusive restaurants she “managed to snag reservations for.”

By the time Y/N excused herself to shower, Carlos was left alone with his thoughts again. He wasn’t angry, not really. But he was confused. Why hide something like this? Did she think he’d judge her?

As the sound of running water filled the apartment, Carlos sat on the couch, staring at his watch. He traced the edges of it with his thumb, his mind racing.

He loved her—he truly did. But for the first time since they’d been together, he wasn’t sure he fully knew her.

--

Carlos’s birthday started like any other day—quiet, unassuming, and, as far as he was concerned, just another regular weekday. But when he walked into Y/N’s apartment that evening, he realized how wrong he’d been.

The entire living room was transformed. Gold and black balloons floated in clusters, streamers lined the walls, and a massive “Happy Birthday, Carlos” banner stretched across the ceiling. The dining table was set with a feast fit for a Michelin-starred restaurant—complete with candles, a perfectly plated cake, and his favorite wine.

“You did all this?” Carlos asked, his eyes wide as he took it all in.

Y/N emerged from the kitchen, beaming, wearing a sleek dress that looked straight out of a fashion magazine. “Surprise!”

Carlos couldn’t help but smile. “You didn’t have to go this far, cariño.”

“Of course, I did,” she said, walking over to him and planting a kiss on his cheek. “You deserve the best.”

He took a deep breath, overwhelmed by the effort she’d gone to. But the gifts sitting on the table caught his attention—each one wrapped immaculately in expensive-looking paper.

“Are those… all for me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned. “Open them and see.”

He started unwrapping them one by one. First, a designer leather jacket. Then, a limited-edition pair of sneakers he’d mentioned in passing months ago. And finally, a watch—sleek, elegant, and undoubtedly expensive.

Carlos held it up, speechless. “Y/N… this is—”

“Do you like it?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

“Like it?” he said, shaking his head. “This must’ve cost a fortune.”

“It’s worth it,” she said softly. “You’re worth it.”

Carlos pulled her into a hug, his mind racing. As they swayed gently, his voice was low but teasing. “You know, between the jacket, the sneakers, and this watch… you’re starting to spoil me. I might get used to it.”

She laughed nervously, her face buried in his chest. “Well, it’s your birthday. You deserve to be spoiled.”

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his hands still resting on her waist. “Y/N,” he said, his tone light but inquisitive, “how do you afford all this? I mean, between the car, the gifts, and—well, everything. It doesn’t exactly scream ‘9-to-5.’”

Her smile faltered for a second. “I… budget well,” she said, avoiding his gaze.

Carlos tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly but still kind. “Budget well? You’re buying things most people would save for years to afford. That’s some serious budgeting.”

“I just… know how to find deals,” she said quickly.

“Deals, huh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Like the kind that let you buy a car worth more than most people’s houses?”

Her laugh was more forced this time. “Carlos, come on, it’s not like that.”

He didn’t push, not yet. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her again, holding her close. “You know,” he said softly, his chin resting on her head, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About how generous you are. How thoughtful. How you somehow always manage to outdo yourself.”

“That’s just because I love you,” she murmured.

“And I love you too,” he said, his voice warm. “But you don’t have to go overboard, you know. I’d still love you if you didn’t get me a watch that probably costs more than my rent.”

She tensed slightly in his arms, and he felt it.

“It’s just…” he continued, his tone deliberately casual, “I can’t help but wonder. You must have some serious savings to pull all this off.”

“Well, I—”

“Or maybe,” he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice, “you’re secretly a billionaire.”

Relaxed she went, “Yeah, exactly.”

The words slipped out before she could stop them. Her body went rigid, and she immediately pulled back, her eyes wide with panic. “I mean—wait—no—”

Carlos’s brows shot up. “Oh.”

“Carlos, I didn’t mean—”

“Y/N,” he said gently, placing his hands on her shoulders. “It’s okay. Just… take a deep breath.”

She did, her hands trembling slightly. “I-I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.”

“So it’s true?” he asked softly. “You’re… rich?”

She hesitated, then nodded, her eyes brimming with uncertainty. “Yes. But it’s not like you think. I didn’t want it to change how you see me.”

Carlos’s expression softened. “Cariño, why would it change how I see you?”

“Because… people treat me differently when they know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I wanted you to love me for me, not for my money.”

He cupped her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. “Y/N, I fell in love with the woman who makes me laugh until my stomach hurts. The one who listens to me ramble about football and surprises me with my favorite snacks. Not the size of your bank account.”

Her eyes searched his, still uncertain. “You’re not mad?”

“I’m not mad,” he assured her. “A little surprised, sure. Maybe a bit hurt you didn’t tell me sooner. But I get it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “I should’ve told you.”

He smiled, pulling her back into his arms. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“No more pretending your gifts are ‘on sale.’ You’re a terrible liar.”

She laughed, the tension finally breaking. “Deal.”

--

The living room was bathed in a warm, golden glow from the lamps as Carlos and Y/N cuddled on the couch. Her head rested against his chest, and his arm was wrapped securely around her shoulders. The cake sat half-eaten on the coffee table, alongside empty plates and glasses.

Carlos pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his voice soft as he broke the comfortable silence. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Y/N murmured, tracing patterns on his shirt with her fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, his tone gentle but curious. “About… everything?”

Y/N stiffened slightly in his arms but relaxed when he gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She sighed, her breath warm against his chest.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” she began quietly. “I just… I’ve had bad experiences before.”

Carlos frowned, his hand moving in soothing circles on her back. “What kind of experiences?”

She pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and sadness. “People have used me for my money, Carlos. Pretended to care about me just because they wanted access to my lifestyle, my connections. It’s happened more times than I’d like to admit.”

Carlos’s expression softened, his heart aching for her. “Y/N…”

“It’s not just romantic relationships,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “Friends, too. People I thought I could trust would suddenly start asking for favors, for loans they never intended to repay. Or they’d make comments, subtle digs, like I didn’t deserve what I had because I was born into it.”

Carlos tightened his hold on her, resting his chin on her head. “I’m so sorry you went through that. You didn’t deserve it.”

“I started to feel like no one saw me, you know?” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “It was always about what I could give them, not who I was. So, when I met you, I just… I didn’t want to risk it. I didn’t want you to see me differently.”

Carlos was silent for a moment, his thoughts swirling. Finally, he tilted her chin up so she could meet his eyes. “Y/N, I’m not those people. I don’t care about your money, or what you can buy, or any of that. I care about you. The person who makes me laugh, who’s always there for me, who’s just… you.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she gave him a small, shaky smile. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

He wiped away a stray tear with his thumb, his gaze unwavering. “I know it’s hard, letting someone in. But I want you to know, you don’t have to hide anything from me. Okay?”

She nodded, her smile growing a little stronger. “Okay.”

Carlos leaned down and kissed her gently, pouring all his love and reassurance into the moment. When they pulled apart, he gave her a teasing grin.

“Although, I do have to say, I feel a little cheated. All this time, I’ve been paying for dinner when you could’ve been spoiling me instead.”

Y/N burst out laughing, swatting his chest. “Oh, so now you want to be spoiled?”

He chuckled, pulling her closer. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no to the occasional fancy dinner. But honestly? I’d take ramen with you on the couch over anything else.”

She smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude and love. “You’re too good to be true, Carlos.”

He kissed her forehead, his voice soft. “So are you, cariño. So are you.”

[lorasdolly]

doctor gf!abby finding you in the er of the hospital she works act and acting all concerned and cutesy

𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙹𝙾𝙱 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚢

It was nearing night time, meaning that Abby would be home soon from her excruciatingly long shift.

Abby took longer shifts, allowing herself to make enough money for the both of you. She prided herself in have the capacity to take care of you, cherish you, and everything else she wished.

So, to appreciate that, you decided to make her a special dinner. Even if it was dark out, Abby hardly got breaks on the job.

You were aware, yet she told you not to worry.

You worried, nonetheless, taking it into your own hands today. The only downside was the shakiness of your hands from the winter weather.

Since the oil was hot, practically spiking, you tried to begin the cooking process. Till the quickness of dropping something took you by suprise, one thing leading to another, and your hand getting burnt from burning oil.

Your first reaction was to yell, and once you got out a couple tears, your next step was to grit your teeth and do something about it.

Tears kept spilling but you were frantically getting Abby's first aid kits. You had told her it wasn't necessary, but she knew you better than you knew yourself, storing them in random little places for fast accessibility.

You took a damp towel specifically made for burns and draped it over your hand, then grabbing a coat and keys.

You drove, clenching your jaw at an attempt to distract yourself from the chronic and stinging pain. Pulling into the ER room Abby worked at, you walked to the lobby and showed them the burn.

Desperately you spoke, "I need my girlfriend– God, now—"

A nurse directed you to a patient room, prioritizing your case before the burn could get any worse. You hadn't even got a chance to tell her your girlfriend's name.

Yet, the nurse knew. With the birthstone promise ring on your hand, she could already assume only one doctor had such a deep affection for their girlfriend.

After a few minutes of bouncing your leg up and down, the door swung open simultaneously with the noise of elastic gloves being pulled into place.

Your watery eyes stared up at Abby, a small groan leaving your parted lips. "Abs'—"

She shook her and made her way to you, grabbing the wrist of the damaged hand tenderly to inspect the burn. "How on earth did this happen, angel?"

Her concern seeped through not only her words, but actions. She observed the severity of the burn, nearly sighing in relief when she realized it could be easily taken care of.

"Nearly went into cardiac arrest when the nurse called for me," She spoke heartily.

"I– I was making you dinner," you began, words panicky and all squished in one breath.

She allowed you to keep speaking while grabbing supply to clean the wound, nodding and humming in acknowledgement in every second.

"It had oil in the recipe, so– so I heated it on the pan," you kept breathing unevenly, explaining with shaky hands.

Abby could grasp where the rest of the story went, but she let you continue, washing the area with a light soap and lukewarm water on a towel. She was insanely focused on both taking care of you and listening to you.

"It spilled, I got burned, rushed here—" Abby cut you off with an „uh-huh“.

A frown presented on your lips, watching her apply ointment, "It's not that bad, babe. Just need to be more careful." Abby said, never lifting her gaze off your hand.

"How 'bout we order take out next time you feel like doing something sweet?" A humorlessly chuckle came from her throat, an attempt to calm herself down from the insane worry of ever leaving you alone again.

"It was an accident, Abs'." You said with a petulant expression. "You can't forbid me from cooking." You declared but she didn't take it that seriously, tilting her head in a "That's exactly what I'm going to do." look.

"Maybe I'll just install cameras anywhere you could get hurt this way." She alternated, a brow cocked at her own idea.

You rolled your eyes, uninjured hand coming to rest on Abby's shoulder. Abby didn't react, simply bandaging the burn properly.

"Abs', I'm sorry." You whispered, your lips lingering over her ear.

She paused in her movements, the process over with. A sigh left her, a hefty sigh. "I'm not mad, babe. I'm worried." She clarified, making eye contact with you and as hand encircled your wrist.

You didn't reply, mesmerized with how she lifted your burned hand to her lips, kissing the wrists tenderly. The pecks traced to your palm, a firmer kiss left there.

"I should clock out now, no?" She asked after a hot minute of silence. She received a nod from you, a quiet craving to have her all to yourself at home, pampered and loved.

"I'll cook for us. Stay far away from the kitchen." She released your wrist, using the moment to lighten the tension with humor.

[jarofstyles]

Flower 2

Okay so I really love these babies so I think I'm gonna do 3-5 parts! I'm loving the tension hehe. Let me know your thoughts!

Flower Masterlist

Check out our Patreon for early access and 180+ exclusive writings

WC-4.6k

Warnings- mention of age gap romance, mention of bdsm, mention of bad sexual experiences, loads of sexual tension, low-key sugar daddy h, trust me

Sleep didn’t come too easily for her, but she felt absolutely wired when she woke up. Her coffee only made it worse as she wrapped herself up in the dark wash denim jacket she’d borrowed from Harry when he drove her home a few weeks back. His truck pulled into the driveway and she was grabbing her tote bag and phone, making sure to lock up before turning to face him. 

There was a weird expression on his face- something she couldn’t place. It wasn’t quite angry or mad, but it was a little darker as his eyes ran over her face and then body. He remained quiet until she got down her porch steps. “S’that… my jacket?” He asked lowly. The tone was strange to her as he stepped closer, tugging on the collar of it. 

“Yeah, it’s really cute and I figured I could wear it around today and give it back to you at the end. Is that… is that okay?” She worried her brows. “I can take it off now if you want to wear-“

“No.” He cut her off. “No, it’s totally fine. It just… it looks really good on you, is all.” He mumbled, squeezing her shoulder. “You look beautiful, as always.” His compliment was genuine, feeling his finger tap her nose, making her crinkle it. “Put the shiny stuff on it again? Your fairy sparkle?” 

Y/N laughed out loud at his nickname for her highlight on her cheeks and the tip of her nose. “Mhm. I got a new pink one, think it suits me.” And maybe she’d been a lot more meticulous about her makeup now that she had a feeling this may be a more-than-friends situation. “I really like this look.” It was a tease, considering he wore the same thing off duty. Jeans and some sort of tee shirt with a quirky phrase or obscure musician on them. Today’s was relatively tame with a bee surrounded by some words about honey and health. Cute. “I actually like the tee today. A bit muscle-y.” His arms looked real fucking nice in this one. Of course he would have some considering he worked with his hands and was a pretty physical person but… damn. She allowed herself to admire it, respectfully. 

It wasn’t something she’d caught before but a slight pink brushed his cheeks at her compliment. “Thanks, petal.” He smiled. “I… I got us some coffee, got your favorite. It’s only half an hour away but I figured….”

“You know I love coffee. You’re the best, as usual.” She sighed, leaning into him to have a hug. It wasn’t usual for her to do it first but he reacted quickly, pulling her close as he rubbed her back, content to keep her there forever. He was never the first to pull back from a hug, but Y/N would happily stay like this for hours  if the option was there. He smelled good, was so warm and sturdy and he knew exactly how to play with hair. Unfortunately she did have to pull back, shooting him a shy smile as he took her by the shoulder to the car. 

Of course he opened the door for her, made she she was in properly before jogging to his own side. He ever did the whole hand on the back of the seat while backing out move, which… wow. It never missed. The weirdest turn on, but something about it just elevated a man. 

His car smelled ridiculously good, and judging by the little clips on his air vents, he had just changed them. He had a few lanyards for access to work yards and membership cards to certain stores, but no fun little fuzzy dice, or a air freshener with a kitty on it like she had. There and then, she took a mental note to get him one. Maybe a puppy one, though. His German shepherd was his best friend.

“Are you getting any books?” She asked him after a little time passed. The chatter had been casual so far, easy. The tension she felt since last night wasn’t bad in the car if she continued topic switching and slight gossip. 

“Mm, I dunno. I haven’t done much reading lately. What are you gonna get?” He questioned, sneaking a peek at her as they stopped at a red light. 

“Probably romance. I’ve been most interested in that. I’ve seen some good book recommendations online and the girls sent me some, Gia and I wanted to do a book club thing for one of the books by our favorite author. It’s a bad boy romance but it’s called Reaper.” She figured he’d have no idea what that was, but she watched his brow raise as he gave her a look. 

“Well… you do have a naughty side, don’t you?” He snickered, watching her eyes widen. “Think m’clueless? Just because I don’t read a lot doesn’t mean my ears don’t work. Tony told me his wife was reading that and it’s full of sex. Basically erotica.” He licked his lip, looking her over. 

“Oh- well, yes there’s sex but there’s plot to! Just because a book has sex doesn’t mean it isn’t good!”’she crossed her arms, huffing at him. It was a bit to rile him up a bit considering he was doing it to her and it worked. She watched his mouth open and close before rushing out an explanation. 

“No! No, m’not saying that. It’s not bad at all. It’s empowering, but uh, I was just saying I didn’t expect you to read books like that.” He had to pull away as the light turned green but he looked a little stressed that he offended her. 

“I’m joking, H. I know you didn’t mean it like that.” She snickered, watching his face turn to a bit to a scowl. “What, you thought I’m a nun or something? Just cause I’m not spilling all my stories at the table doesn’t mean I don’t have them.” She knew a lot of the group was very open about their sexual experience which was more than fine with her. Y/N was nosy and loved knowing other people's business, But in her life she didn’t share sex related things. It was private, for her and her partners. She didn’t want to betray their trust either, regardless of the terms they were on. 

“I….” His face was more pink now, hands flexing around the wheel as he cleared his throat. “I just thought maybe you didn’t care as much about it. Which is fine, by the way! It’s cool. I just wasn’t sure you cared too much. You never talk about it when we have our confession nights so I… I was being a bit presumptuous. I’m sorry. It just shocked me a little.” 

It was funny to make him squirm a bit but he didn’t need to feel bad. “It’s fine. Promise. No one really asks anyway, so I don’t offer it up first. I’m usually private about it because some of our friends are loud mouths but you can ask me stuff if you want. Maybe after we get our books you can ask me whatever questions come up.” She knew there would be plenty based on his face alone. 

“Really?” He seemed surprised. “Yeah, sure. I mean, I’m not trying to be weird or anything but you know about the time I called someone by the wrong name and the girl who put her tongue in my ear so….” He shrugged one shoulder. 

“Oh, god.” Her giggle was muffled by her hand. He had shared some of his horror stories and she’d found out he was a bit of a bondage fan and dabbled in kinky stuff but until now that info had been locked away in her brain under padlock and key. Suddenly someone had taken nippers to the lock and it was spilling out again, staining the floor. “Yeah… I suppose that is fair.” Angling her knees towards her, she stirred her coffee with the straw. “I think the worst thing that’s happened to me… hm. Probably the time I went home with a guy after a few dates in college and his place was really gross, but he was even more so. Like…” her nose scrunched. “Took his pants off and there was a smell coming from them. I couldn’t do it.” 

“Oh, fuck.” He hissed, wincing at the thought. That was pretty much a nightmare situation. Harry always smelled good and never seemed to be anything but hygienic so she knew he gave a shit about it but still. No one wanted to think of that. “That’s… unfortunate for both of you. Was he embarrassed? How did you get out of it?” 

“He wasn’t, is the thing. Said ‘girls should like a natural musk’ and I told him that it wasn’t a musk, it was a stench. He wasn’t happy with that so he didn’t refuse when I left. I had to take a long shower after that.” Shuddering in disgust, she hated recalling that. “At first I felt really guilty too, cause that’s such a hard thing… but he ended up being such a dick. It was surprising considering he had been sweet on the dates but apparently men change a lot in the bedroom.” That was an understatement. 

“I can agree with that, but I’d hope it’s a positive change.” He shook his head at the thought. “Like, sweet in the streets and freak in the sheets or whatever the saying is.” 

A laugh peeled from her throat, leaning her head against the headrest with her face turned towards him. “Yeah, close enough. But ideally they would be. I dunno, you don’t have to be crazy to be good in the bedroom but I’d hope for the same level of respect. Some men have no idea how to actually handle women so it’s partly why I stopped dating.” And why she had stayed up looking at his Instagram last night and thinking about how she’d look inserted in his life. Harry seemed like a man who could potentially handle her. 

“I wish I could disagree but I can’t. I’ve heard many horror stories from girls, way more traumatizing than men. It’s why…” he stopped himself. “Sorry, was gonna overshare. But I can only imagine how it is and if it’s any consolation, I’m sorry for all the men.” 

God, he was cute.  But… wait. 

“No no, you can definitely  overshare.” She perked up. “If you want to, anyway. I don’t mind.” Blinking at him, he cut a look at her and let out a laugh as he lifted a hand to run it over his chin, the slight sound of skin scratching stubble audible in the cab of his truck. 

“Well, I was gonna say it’s why I try t’be aware of that when I’m with someone that their comfort is first. If there’s anything they don’t like they can say it, that m’not gonna be mad. I don’t want someone to walk away from something with me and feel uncomfortable.” Seeing him a little shy was really fucking adorable. “I don’t really do hookups anymore. They’re not fulfilling, at least not to me. Lost their appeal a few years ago but, the few relationships I’ve been in the whole goal was to make them feel good. I think there’s a lot of selfishness that’s mainly revolved around men and sex, which I noticed a lot. The fact that a lot of women aren’t getting off at all is fucking ridiculous.” He scoffed, looking truly bothered by it. 

Another point added to his growing list. 

“Yeah, it is. It was rare I could because for me, and I think a good amount of women, there needs to be the foreplay aspect of it. Mentally, I need to be stimulated. Y’know, like teasing or not so clean talking.”

It was her turn to feel a little shy but she powered through. “And men can dive right in. It’s where we differ a lot of the time. I think part of it is biological too, I guess. I tried hooking up for a while but it never did anything for me either. I prefer someone with a connection so it’s easier to get to that point.” Now she was the one oversharing. 

“I understand that. I like those things too. A bit of cat and mouse can be fun…” he pushed his hair back before returning his hands to the wheel, squeezing it. “It’s laziness and selfishness. I’d say for me personally, M’more of a giver. Not saying it to praise myself or anything but it’s just… it’s what I like.” There was a pause. “Sorry if that’s a bit much.”

No, it wasn’t enough. She wanted to know more. Her neglected cunt was more than interested in how he was in bed and if he’d like to be a giver for her, but she had to at least try to behave. 

“It’s not. We’re just being honest, right?” She placed a hand on his knee, giving a daring squeeze and let it linger for a few moments before peeling it away. Again, testing the waters of initiating touch. Once she’d realized last night that she hadn’t shown her own interest much she had vowed to at least try today to see how he'd respond.

In this instance his smile grew and he couldn’t look right at her, but he nodded at what she’d said. “Yeah. I jus’ don’t want to seem like some creep. But uh, what other sort of books do you like? Romance, yeah, but what sort of tropes?” He did know some of those. 

“Oh, I’m pretty adventurous.” A double meaning. “I like the grumpy and sunshine ones, the billionaire romances, mafia is a guilty pleasure. Meet cute is something else I enjoy for a light read. I dunno, I think I mainly go for what the summary calls to me for. I do read some darker stuff but it’s nice to have a little fantasy world to escape to. And the fantasy men know how to find a clit.” Throwing the joke in there was meant to diffuse some of tension but somehow it seemed to make it grow. 

Not in a bad way, per say, but he looked at her curiously. “Don’t tell me that all of them couldn’t….”

“No, no. Some of them did, but majority no. They rub the side and think they’re doing something. But I’ve never faked it, I refuse to give a man an ego boost for something he didn’t do.”

“Good on ya, petal. S’bullshit that they get off and you don’t.” He genuinely seemed bothered by it. “Buncha pricks is what they are.” 

“They are.” She snickered. “But I’ll let you read some of the blurbs for the books I pick out today, you can get a read on what sorta books I like.” It was yet again, another way to experiment. 

“I’m very intrigued to see what you’re into.” 

Y/N hopes that held a double meaning too. 

—-

Harry was hovering a bit. 

Normally that would annoy her. She’d huff and tell him to sit in the cafe, or go look at his own books- but she hoped that it was because he was paying attention to what she picked up. 

Plus, he was holding the basket for her. 

The store was earthy and rustic, exposed wooden beams running along the ceilings. There was a little cafe that served teas and coffees which she definitely planned on getting after her shopping, and from her nosy look over when Harry greeted the owner she had seen a blueberry scone. That would be coming home with her too. 

The shelves were high and they had multiple different sections. It was far bigger than any indie bookstore she had been to in the past , and that lead her to quickly realize quickly she was going to make a monthly trek out here. Maybe Harry would be interested in joining her in them. 

Maybe he’d be interested in doing a lot more with her. 

“I’m almost done.” She promised, plopping a used copy of a vacation town romance into the basket. It had to be a little heavy but Harry didn’t complain. It didn’t even look like the weight bothered him, the basket hanging off his arm. They’d stuck mostly to the used section considering they were far cheaper, but she was ready to go for the new ones now. 

So what if she took a little bit out of her savings for this? She deserved a little treat for once. 

“There’s no rush, Flower.” He assured her, following closely behind her as she moved towards the new books. “I was wondering if….” There was a pause as she looked up at him. It seemed to make his brain buffer for a moment, his eyes looking over her face before he blinked out of the stare. “Uh, it you wanted to have lunch or something after?”

Why was he so cute, and why did he look so nervous? Maybe Y/N wasn’t giving the signals she needed to. That would be her own fault, but it was hard to flirt when she was as serious as she was about her books. 

“On the condition that the iced mocha with a pump of caramel and the blueberry scone I get for the car ride doesn’t count as lunch, yes. I would very much enjoy that.” She chirped, watching the nerves melt off of his face. It was mind boggling that her of all people could cause him to be nervous in the slightest but you learned something new every day. 

“I’ll agree, because that’s more suitable for a dessert.” He drawled. Harry did like to tease her about her sweet tooth which always made her roll her eyes. So what if a girl liked to have a brownie with each meal? Life is nothing but spinning on an orb in space. You may as well enjoy the creature comforts. 

“If that’s your dessert I don’t think you’ve had a true one in a while.” The flirtation was light, testing the waters as she looked over the book covers. His eyes could be felt on the side of her face as he was quiet for a moment before letting out a little laugh. 

“Suppose I haven’t. You’re right. Maybe I’ll need to try yours and see what you mean.”

And oh. Oh. She did everything in her power not to react besides a little smirk, though she could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks. Harry could most defintely try her dessert whenever the fuck he wanted. 

“Should you be so lucky.” Was her slightly snarky reply, but he followed it up quite quickly. 

“One could only hope, Petal.” 

And yeah, maybe she felt her new heartbeat between her thighs as the newly heavier silence settled on them like oil in water, but it wasn’t necessarily bad. The anticipation was in her stomach as he got a bit closer, looking over her shoulder at the book she had picked up and was currently reading the back of. 

“What’s this one?” He asked, so close that she could feel the heat of his body against her back. 

“It’s called The Highest Bidder. It’s about… a girl who goes on an auction block at a BDSM club, he is one of the owners? Well he’s one of the richest. Anyways, I saw someone recommend it saying it has sugar daddy vibes and there’s some juicy stuff in it.” Y/N explained, taking the moment to lean back into him as she held the back cover for him to read. 

If he was surprised he didn’t show it. Instead, his hand came up to rest on her shoulder, pinky finger nearly grazing the side of her neck as he looked over to read. Such a casual touch of affection, but he seemed to like it. “And you’re gonna get this one?” It was a bit weirdly arousing feeling the vibrations of his words through his chest and onto her back. 

“I think so. I haven’t read an age gap for a while. Just hope the sex scenes aren’t shit. It’s hard to tell with books sometimes, even if they’re more kinky oddly enough. I’ve seen books that have the best summaries and seem super steamy have a two pump sex scene- or fade to black. Which, you know, is fine. Not all books need to have that, but what’s the point of making the book seem like it then?” She muttered. Clearly she had been victim to it a time or two.  “Then the authors get mad about low goodreads reviews. It’s like, cmon! Don’t mislead the readers about the book then.” 

It was something the woman did get passionate about when provoked, but Harry had opened that can of worms in the car when he had given his go ahead that he didn’t mind discussing things like this with her. 

“Mm. I see.” He nodded and she swore she could hear the smile in his voice. “Show me the others you want to get.” 

Y/N felt increasingly more comfortable as she went through the next five books, letting him read the back covers and giving him the low-down about what she had heard about them. Each time they moved their position would go back to where it was, with his hand on her shoulder and her back leaned into him, only he had gotten a little braver with running his smallest finger back and forth over the side of her neck. 

It nearly made her choke when she first felt it. She definitely stuttered when he did it, but she didn’t comment on how the little action felt incredibly intimate and soft, yet charged with an unspoken sexual energy that would probably kill her if she thought about it too long. Harry was being casual about it, but he always had been. He’d been the first to initiate most touches with her that Gia said were abnormal. Of course he didn’t start off their friendship by being super grabby and touchy but it had morphed into that, and it definitely did take him by surprise when she had initiated last night and again today. Kind of like she was reinforcing that it was more than okay to touch. 

“Are you sure you’re done?” He asked after placing her final book in the basket. Y/N felt like if she didn’t stop this weird, hot position of him asking questions about the books earnestly and his chaste-yet-sexy touches she may bend over the book table and get inappropriate really fucking fast. 

“Mhm.” She assured him. “Please, I’m gonna have to dip into the rainy day fund to afford all the stuff from today but it’ll be so worth it.” The sun shone through the windows and highlighted his features which, god, had her testing her own willpower. Of course she was far too shy to be super direct with him verbally, but she didn’t hide the fact that she was admiring him. 

Considering she had already been successful in her little experiments today, she saw the lock of hair that had flopped over his forehead and decided to push it back. Letting her fingers card through his hair, she pushed the strands out of his face and back into place. If she hadn’t been looking so intently she wouldn’t have seen the shiver he had from the action. His hair was so soft and obvious that Harry took care of it, and she had never really touched it all that much but the temptation had been too much. “Sorry, it was bothering me so it must have been bothering you.” She said simply, giving him a small smile. “I’m just gonna run to the restroom quickly and then we can check out. Okay?”

“Course.” He cleared his throat, nodding his head as if the question had taken a moment to load in his head. “I’ll be by the cafe then.”

Y/N really hated that bookstores made her have to go in there but it was a right of passage. Taking care of her business took only a few minutes, but when she came out she didn’t see him at first. 

He wouldn’t just leave her, so it took her a second to realize he was leaving the counter, two bags of books hanging off his arms and two coffees in the little tray. A brown paper bag clutched crumbled in the hand he used to balance the drink tray, making her eyes widen.

“Hey! I was gonna pay for our coffees and stuff.” She pouted as he approached. “You’ll have to let me get lunch then.” Her eyes went down to the two tote bags with the store logo on them. “Ooo, that’s so nice that they gave you these to hold them in. Let me just grab my wallet and we can go to the till to-“

“Don’t worry about it.” He cut her off, shrugging a shoulder. There was a pregnant pause, her eyes blinking rapidly before her eyebrows crinkled. 

“What do you mean? I have to pay.”

“They’re paid for.” The reply was simple and matter of fact. Again, words escaped her as she looked between him and the books. 

“Did you-“

“I paid. It’s fine, Flower.”

“Uh, what?” Her eyebrows shot up as her stomach dropped. It did the weird thing that had her feeling a little lightheaded as he stood there, like he didn’t just spend probably close to two hundred on books. “No way I can accept that.”

“If I told you I got a discount for building this place will it help?”

“Harry.” She said quietly. “You…. Why?” 

“Because I’m happy you agreed t’spend the day with me.” The reply was so to the point, not hiding anything at all that it almost felt unreal. Hell, it did feel unreal because who the fuck spent two hundred on books for a friend? Granted, she had a feeling-or a hope- there was a crush in there, but it felt like a huge gesture. 

“You already do so much for me.” She swallowed the lump down her throat. “You help me at my place and you drive me home from get togethers and you buy me drinks when we go out and… I feel like it’s a lot. I surely don’t do as much for you.”

“I’d do even more if you let me.” He stared honestly, nothing but truth on his face. “So jus’ let me do this for you. I want to. It makes me happy.” 

Y/N didn’t know how to argue with that. Instead, she nodded, and reached to take the bag and coffee tray from him since he had the much heavier books. “Thank you. I could cry, probably.” That wasn’t a joke. Her eyes felt like they were stinging. 

“None of that, Petal.” He shook his head. “C’mon. I’ve got plenty of questions and you’ve got answers you promised me on the way here.” Without thinking twice, he grabbed her free hand with his own, tangling their fingers before leading her to the truck. 

Y/N had no idea how so much had changed in 24 hours,

But she had a feeling it was about to change a whole lot more.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 4

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, hoops written by lila... Wordcount: 5K A/C: and by tomorrow i meant now hehe, anyways - uh... I WROTE HOOPS INTO THIS so be nice to me. please. something about it is soo intimidating to me so if it makes zero sense that's not on me at least it makes sense in my head. UH ANYWAY send your thoughts and feedback i'm nervous abt this one haha go read

-

Before London

“One more girls, c’mon, sell it!” Koclanes’ voice echoes around College Park Center, joined with the squeaking of our sneakers against the floor. I glance at Arike who throws her head back in frustration, mumbling to herself, mirroring exactly how I felt deep inside. We had been working on this same play for what felt like at least an hour, running the drill repeatedly. The muscles in my thighs ache as I roll my fatigued shoulders, walking to mid-court, too tired to jog. According to Chris we weren’t convincing enough. So here we go again.

I advance the ball upcourt with practiced ease, the ball bouncing in a steady rhythm against the hardwood. For the 15th time today my eyes follow Arike, as she backs into the weak-side corner, positioning herself beyond the arc. I slow down my pace, threading the ball through my legs, face to face with the defense. My eyes stay sharp, focused, glancing into the corner. She’s ready.

Suddenly I dribble forward into the paint, not to shoot but to pass to Arike, whose knees bent, hands up, ready for me in the corner. The defense makes a quick read of my actions, drawing out players to defend the perimeter. I sell it, my eyes locked on Arike, when Satou cuts to the basket at the correct time, and without looking, I deliver the final deceptive blow. Anticipating Satou’s movements and the little I can see from my peripheral vision, I pull off the no-look through the legs, the ball effectively landing in Satou’s hands who finishes the play with a smooth drive to the basket. Like we had done about a zillion times already this afternoon.

No one celebrates, it was much too early to. Instead, we all turn to Koclanes in anticipation. He looks at us, rubbing his jaw with a straight face - until his mouth twists into a grin.

“You sold it! You sold it guys!”

Simultaneously, me and Arike let out relieved sighs as the team on the bench cheers, clapping their hands together. Satou comes up from behind me and squeezes my shoulder. 

“About time huh?” She groans as we all walk towards the benches, each taking turns to high five our coach. Chris checks the watch on his wrist, audibly gasping.

“Yikes! What crazy man let practice run this late?” He jokes, causing the crowd of girls to laugh, me included. I feel his hand tap on my shoulder, my head snapping to him.

“Good job Paige,” he smiles. 

“Thanks coach,” I grin, throwing my head back to chug some water, still not having adjusted to the difference in praise, Geno’s often few and far between. My blue eyes scan the seats in the crowd. There she is, Izzie, eyes twinkling, book snug in her armpit as she claps and begins to make her way down. In the past couple weeks me and the dark haired girl had found a new routine. Each morning we met downstairs, and I drove her to work, and in the evenings she sat courtside, working or reading her books, waiting for me. It felt easy, effortless and in the meantime I had gotten to know her even better.

I knew she was in a bad mood in the mornings, often unwilling to engage with my overflowing energy before she had a coffee in her hands. Which she preferred to drink black, but on special occasions enjoyed an oat milk latte. She wasn’t picky about it though - ready to finish whatever sugary coffee concoction I had ordered just for the caffeine if I offered.  She liked to hum quietly along to songs, but was embarrassed if I acknowledged her singing. She kicked her heels off the moment she entered her apartment. She knew ball, like really knew ball but was hesitant to discuss the sport with me - which let me know she didn’t like to be wrong, afraid I might call her out for a bad take.

She was nurturing, oftentimes climbing into my car with homemade breakfast after she found out about my recent poptart habit, my old healthy routines too disrupted by the recent move to Dallas. She covered her mouth when she laughed. Her face scrunched ever so slightly when I said something out of pocket. I had found out that her favourite movie was Lady and The Tramp and Paris was her favourite city in the world - she even spoke a little French. I had also found out that there was nothing I could do to shake the crush I had on her, so for the first time ever, I just let it be. We had become friends, and I was glad. Although my teammates were less believing of this, Arike and Lou pointing out repeatedly how red my face turned when the media producer was brought up.

“That pass was incredible! I’m so excited to see all that in action,” Izzie gleams, approaching me and Arike. Her praise makes my stomach twist in knots, a bashful smile growing on my face. Our first game was approaching much faster than I could’ve ever anticipated, now only a little more than a week to go. 

We weren't… great. But I had quickly learned to work with Arike, though she still struggled to remember that she had another teammate to rely on - someone to pass to instead of driving through four defenders for a bucket. To my relief, me and Satou had found a groove even quicker, the time we had spent finessing the pick-and-rolls and high-low action already showing.

”I think she’s just wantin’ to show out,” Arike grins, winking at me, like Izara wasn’t standing right in front of us.

”Nothing new about that,” Iz laughs.

”Alright enough,” I chuckle, wiping the sweat off my forehead on the damp towel in my hands. I watch as Rike’s face lights up, a wide grin spreading on her face as she jogs off to greet Lala, her fiance, walking over from the side entrance.

”Hey baby,” Lala smiles, kissing the younger woman carefully, not wanting to get sweat on herself. ”Tell me y’all are done, I’ve been waiting in that car for an hour.”

”Nahh don’t blame Rike, that’s my bad,” I smile, leaning over to greet her with a polite hug. 

”You’re our child you could do nothin’ wrong,” Lala says affectionately. Ever since I moved the couple had made sure I was okay, that I didn’t feel alone. Problem was, I was terrible at expressing my emotions, so of course I never told anyone how badly I was struggling. Though that feeling was mostly gone now. Dallas was starting to feel like home, slowly but surely.

For a while all four of us stand there, the pair watching me expectantly. Realising too late what I was supposed to do, Arike starts.

”Baby this is Zari, she’s our new media girl, Zari this is Lala, my fiance.”

Oh right. It probably would’ve given me some points in Izara’s books if I had been the one to introduce her.

”Hello, it’s lovely to meet you!” The brit gleams, shaking Lala’s hand.

”Ohhh she’s British huh? I love your skirt girl,” Lala says with her usual warmth. She wasn’t wrong - the champagne coloured satin skirt flowing to Izzie’s calves, accentuating the natural curve of her waist. My mind quickly swirls out of control, the memory of her in the lululemon set still fresh in my mind for I had reminisced in it many times ever since our little workout. The way her body looked, how badly my hand wanted to travel all the way down her back, how soft the skin of her ass would feel under my grip, what it would look like when I knead it - I’ve got to stop. We’re friends. I’m happy to be friends. That’s it.

”Oh thank you! Your nails are gorgeous,” Izzie answers, admiring the long acrylics. Lala wiggles her decorated hands for Izzie, making her gasp.

”And that ring, my goodness,” she coos, taking hold of the other woman’s hands gently to admire the diamond on Lala’s ring finger closer. ”That is the size of my head.”

”Well you know me, only the best for the wife,” Rike joins in, smirking proudly. The couple turn to each other smiling, sharing a few gentle pecks. My blue eyes glance at Izara, only to find her already watching me. For a second our eyes meet, till she looks down to the floor, turning to look for something in her bag. 

”You coming to the party right?” Rike asks, elbowing me. The couple had just moved to a new apartment and wanted to host some of their friends and team for a last-minute housewarming party.

”Wouldn’t miss it,” I answer. But Lala’s eyes are fixed on Iz, still roaming through her bag.

”Zari, you got plans this weekend?” She asks kindly.

”Work, rest, gym, more work,” the girl chuckles, finally placing her purse on her shoulder. I wanna reach over and fix the hair stuck underneath the strap, but before I can, she does it herself.

”Well you should come too!” Lala suggests, glancing at her fiance.

Arike grins, eyes flickering between me and Izara. ”You should, Paige would like it if you came for sure.”

Jesus. Attempting to resist rolling my eyes, I close them, letting out a heavy exhale which makes Rike chuckle to herself. Lala shuts her up, elbowing her fiance’s side. God bless that woman.

”We would like it too. Dallas can get lonely if you don’t have good people around you,” she says to Iz softly.

The girl's green eyes flicker from Lala to me, back to Lala until she nods. ”Okay. I think I could make time, thank you for the invitation.”

”No problem girl,” Lala smiles, glancing at me and Arike. ”You two go shower so us girls can get out of here.”

”Yes ma’am,” Rike grins, grabbing her towel and water bottle ready to head out. 

”I’mma be quick,” I tell Izzie, my voice softening exponentially as I talk to her. She smiles, her hand grabbing my forearm gently as she speaks.

”I’ll wait here.”

”I’ll keep her company,” Lala hums, sitting down courtside, tapping the seat next to her for Izara.

I leave the two girls on their own, skin of my forearm on fire still from the simplest touch.

-

Mum ❤️ Jasper called, said he’s been trying to reach you. Have you gotten his calls? Please call him.

I read the text over and over as it lights up my phone screen, disturbing me from the post schedule I’d been working on for the past hour. For others Friday nights meant cocktails and late nights and unwinding. For me it meant finishing this week’s work and an episode of Love Island before going to bed at 9:30 PM sharp. So here I am, in my satin pajamas, hair up in a bun, scheduling one post after another for the weekend.

Groaning, I grab my phone preparing to send a strongly worded text to Jasper to stop being in contact with my mother - but I’m interrupted by urgent knocks on my front door. I check the time. 8:30 PM. Why would someone be needing me at this hour?

I tiptoe across the short corridor straight to my front door, unlocking it carefully. It’s Paige.

Suddenly I’m painfully aware of my appearance, of how short the navy blue satin shorts are on my long legs, how the strap of the matching flowy top is hanging off my shoulder. Swiftly, I pull the strand back up, taking my hair down and running my hand through it before I even make eye contact with the blonde.

“Hey Paige, you okay?” 

Her blue eyes roam up and down my body, making me cross my arms over my chest. I didn’t like people seeing me like this, when I wasn’t prepared. When I wasn’t in control of how I was being viewed.

“You goin’ to sleep?” Paige asks, a hint of a smirk on her face. “It’s like 8.”

“8:30,” I correct, watching as she leans against my door frame. 

“It’s Friday night Iz,” the blonde chuckles. I run my hand through the ends of my dark hair again, feeling bashful under her intense gaze.

“I’ve got work to do,” I explain. “Did you need something love?”

Paige lets out a dramatic groan and throws her head back. 

“I’m boreeeeeeeed,” she moans theatrically, pouting at me. I feel a slight flutter in my chest when her pleading eyes meet mine.

“Go to sleep Paige,” I chuckle, ready to close the door but her strong grip holds it open.

“You wanna watch a movie or something?”

I rub my forehead, thinking of all the work that would be piled up if I didn’t do it today. But her offer was tempting, getting to just sit on the couch and watch TV sounded like heaven. And to get to spend time with a friend. No, I should work. Especially if I wanted to go to Lala’s and Arike’s tomorrow.

“Paige, I really should be working,” I tell her more seriously now.

The blonde sighs, shifting on her feet, eyes locked in mine.

“C’mon Izzie, take a break with me,” she murmurs, the taller girl’s hand coming over and stroking my arm quickly. Goosebumps rise on my skin, her fingertips cold on my warm skin. “Please. Just this once.”

My head feels dizzy suddenly, skin burning. I must turn the AC up. Still, the way Paige’s eyes are begging me for company, the whine in her voice only convincing me further. Fuck. Fine.

“Come in,” I sigh, stepping out of the way. With a smug grin she walks in, pleased she got me to bend to her will.

“But, only for a little. I need to finish work before I go to bed.”

“You got it,” the blonde smirks, taking off her shoes before I can even ask. Her hair is damp, curling just a little in its natural state, and her sweats are hanging low on her waist, sagging.

“Have you eaten?” I ask, my need to nurture the blonde taking over once again.

“I have ma,” Paige coos, following me into my apartment. I can feel her eyes boring into me when I grimace at the nickname.

“What did you call me?” I giggle, planting myself on the couch, my shorts hiking up further as I sit. Paige’s cheeks flush red, and she scratches the back of her neck.

“Uhh, my bad, old habit,” she murmurs, chuckling awkwardly. “You don’t like it?”

I furrow my brows, watching her sit on the opposite corner of the couch, legs spread wide as she does. “What kind of nickname is that anyway?” I laugh, not having heard it before.

Paige lets out a single laugh and shrugs. “I dunno, just something we say here I guess.”

Biting her lower lip as she watches me, the blonde lets out a heavy exhale, eager to change the topic. 

“You want a milkshake? I’m craving one bad,” Paige asks, grabbing her phone and scrolling through Uber Eats.

I shake my head, watching her closely. Her long fingers making the phone look small in her big hand.

“No, I shouldn’t,” I say. “I don’t like having sugar in the evenings.”

Paige’s eyes flicker from her phone to me, back to her phone. The blonde’s brows raise as she smiles. “I’m sayin’ this with no disrespect. You need to learn to relax.”

I scoff. “I know how to relax. After work I was going to make a cup of tea and watch Love Island before bed.”

“Prove it, get a milkshake with me,” she dares. I think for a while, perhaps once couldn’t hurt. And I had a feeling she would keep whining until I said yes, which would mean she’d stay for longer - which would mean I wouldn’t finish my work.

“Don’t make me get one alone, please.”

Finally, I fold, Paige nodding her head to signal me over to her corner of the couch. I scooch along the seat, closing the distance to peep at the blonde’s phone screen. I settle next to her, pressing gently against her side, my thigh nestling onto hers. I hear Paige’s breath grow shallow, her arm resting on the back of the couch, bare skin of her forearm grazing against my upper back. Suddenly, I feel my mind spinning, but I clear my throat, trying to ignore it, or the way my side tingles against her.

“Whatchu want Iz?” Paige’s voice is breathy and hoarse, her face turning to me. I meet her gaze, my heart pounding when I realise how close she is, only a few inches away.

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” I reply, and my voice is… shaking? I’m not entirely sure why, but it’s enough to make my cheeks flush pink.

The blonde’s tongue darts out to lick her lower lip, making it glisten in the soft light of my living room. 

“Why don’t we get two different ones and we can share, yeah?”

I nod, my lips parted, Paige’s warm, minty breath grazing my face. Despite the little clothing I was wearing, I felt heat spread everywhere, making me burn up, forcing my chest to heave. 

“Uh, I’m going to turn up the AC,” I mumble, abruptly getting up, focusing on each step as to not mess them up - my mind spinning and swirling with something I didn’t understand. Fiddling with the AC I rub my own shoulders, trying to massage the tension away. It wasn’t helping.

Suddenly I feel warm, sure hands touching my back, moving upwards to my shoulder blades and digging into my skin. 

“You okay?” Paige asks, her voice still deep as she stands behind me and works my muscles gently. 

“Mm, yeah, just… tense,” I murmur, feeling every cell in my body wanting to melt away under her touch. Something I hadn’t felt in months, no, years.

“I told you,” Paige begins, her hands inching downwards to my lower back, kneading the skin there. “I’m right upstairs, if you need to relax.”

I let out a soft exhale, as we stand there, my eyes fluttering shut. “Well you’re here now,” I hum.

“I am,” the blonde whispers, hands sneaking even lower, to the hemline of my top, fingertips sneaking underneath ever so slightly. I bite my lip to hold in the shaky breath threatening to spill from my lips when her cool fingers massage the exposed skin. A heat spreads in my lower abdomen, making it hard to stand all of a sudden.

Suddenly, a buzz blares through the intercom, shaking us both out of the moment. Paige’s hands pull away abruptly as I take a breath to compose myself, allowing the loud buzzing to continue.

“Uh, must be the delivery guy,” Paige murmurs, reaching over my shoulder to let them in. I try to find my voice, something to say, but words seem to get stuck so I stay quiet, too absorbed by the heat roaming my stomach and thighs.

-

I had never seen Love Island before, and honestly, even after Izzie tried to explain, I still had no idea what was going on. All I could think about is how close I had been to leaning down and pressing soft, wet kisses on the back of her neck as I stood behind her in the corridor. To feel even more of her soft, tender skin by pulling that skimpy, flowy top off. To snake my arms around her waist and drag my hand down her stomach into her tiny shorts, my fingers hooking on her panties and pulling them to the side. I bet she’d be soaked at that point. But I’d take my time, rub slow circles on her clit till-

“So how is it?” Iz asks, curled up against the opposite corner of the couch. She’s sipping on the peanut butter cup milkshake carefully, eyeing the strawberry one in my hands, resting on my lap. Ever since she’d opened that front door I had been fighting not to ogle over her long, bare legs, her brown skin glowing from her post shower moisturiser, which smelled like rich vanilla. 

“It’s good, y’wanna try?” I offer, shaking the cup in my lap. With a coy smile, she crawls over, her hair falling over her shoulder. I watch, my need for relief between my thighs growing overwhelmingly.

The dark haired girl presses to my side as I hold the cup up, my gaze following closely when her plump, moisturized lips wrap around the straw. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks, eyes fluttering shut. It’s like slow motion, the way it happens. And when her lids blink open again and she pulls away from the straw, our gazes lock. It’s enough for me to squirm and press my thighs together, feeling my core aching for something more.

“You like?” I ask, voice gentle. She nods, a small smile on her lips.

“I prefer that one.”

That instant, I grab the peanut butter shake from her, handing the girl the strawberry one.

“Wait, which one do you prefer?” She asks, chuckling a little.

“This one,” I answer confidently, lying as I sip on the peanut butter one. It’s enough to convince her. I watch Izzie pull a blanket over her legs, making me feel just the tiniest bit disappointed when they disappear from my view. However, she doesn’t move away, staying pressed against my side.

“Oh, sorry, did you want some?”

“Uh what?” I ask, discombobulated.

“Blanket, dummy,” she giggles, reaching over to place some over my legs.

“Sure,” I murmur, the idea of being under the same blanket with her making my head spin.

We sit next to each other, our thighs pressing together as we sip on our milkshakes, eyes focused on the tv. Or hers are. Mine keep fluttering back to her side profile, her dark, long eyelashes and the sharp tip of her nose.

“I can’t finish this,” Iz complains unsurprisingly considering the times I had heard her complain about the size of portions here in the States.

“No?” I ask, my shake already long gone.

“No,” the girl yawns and hands it to me, and in a silent exchange I grab it and finish it for her. Much like she did with my coffees in the mornings.

Just as the show begins to get interesting (though I still had no idea what the premise was), after about ten minutes or so, I feel Izara’s head tip against my shoulder. Heart beginning to pound once more, I glance down and notice that the girl’s eyes are shut. She must be asleep.

For a moment I just look at her, feeling the flutters grow in my stomach when she stirs slightly as I shift into a more comfortable position. Praying to God she stays asleep, I turn off the TV and make sure her bare feet are covered by the blanket, wrapping my arm around the back of the couch and pulling her close. Fighting the urge to lean down and press my nose against her hair, I grab my phone and scroll. We stay like that for at least 30 minutes, until my eyes begin to grow heavy too, my head nodding to the side and resting on top of hers as I drift to sleep.

-

The rays of the early morning sun penetrate through the blinds, the ache in my neck stirring me awake. I feel a weight on the left side of my body, my eyes batting open trying to focus on my surroundings. A living room that’s much like mine, yet the white lilies on the table tell me I’m not home.

“Mmhm,” a content hum makes my eyes flicker to my chest, where Izara is resting her head, arm draped over my waist, fast asleep. Suddenly the memory of her passed out in my arms from last night resurfaces. I must have fallen asleep too.

My arm is wrapped around her too, tingling as it begins falling asleep underneath the girl. There’s a certain softness to Izzie’s face that’s completely new to me. I begin to carefully pull my arm back, however it’s enough to cause the dark haired girl’s eyes to flutter open.

I watch closely as she goes through the same motions I had just a moment ago, until her green eyes land on me, head tilting upwards.. The moment she comes to a realisation about the way her arm and leg are draped over my body, a deep blush sets on her face.

“Shit, did we fall asleep?” Izzie asks, voice gravelly with sleep.

I rub my eyes, my hand holding her close and beginning to rub her lower back comfortingly - almost like out of a habit I hadn’t had the chance to build yet. 

“We did,” I chuckle lightheartedly.

“Is it morning?” She asks, glancing at the sun rays shining in.

I check my phone. It’s 8:30 AM. 

“Kinda,” I yawn, shutting my eyes again knowing neither of us had work or any reason to get up soon either way. Though Izara seems to disagree.

She sits up abruptly, burying her face in her hand. I bite my cheek, trying not to groan at the loss of the comforting weight of the girl on me.

“Fuck, I was supposed to get up an hour ago,” Iz groans.

“At 7:30? It’s Saturday Iz,” I laugh, but quickly realise she’s genuinely stressed.

“I didn’t even finish the scheduling last night!” She gasps in realisation, bringing her hand to her shoulders to massage the tension away. I sit up, replacing her hand with mine in an attempt to calm her down but she stands up, avoiding my touch. 

“I knew this would happen if you came over Paige, that’s why I tried to say no! I have a job to do.”

It doesn’t bother me. What she’s saying. Because I can tell she’s not mad at me, really. She’s tense, she needs to relax.

“Iz,” I stop her rambling, standing up and wrapping my arms tightly around her, squeezing. It’s something my dad used to do, when I’d have anxiety or a meltdown as a child. The girl doesn’t fight me, but her breathing is shallow, tense as she stands still in my arms.

“Breathe with me,” I murmur softly, taking my time inhaling, and even more so when exhaling. Izara matches my breathing, and eventually, I feel the tenseness melt away from her body, which begins to mold into mine. I feel the girl’s hands wrap around my waist, her head resting against my chest again. It feels like heaven. I realise it’s the first time we’ve hugged.

“You okay?” I ask after a while, pulling my head back to look at the girl. That slight softness, reminiscent of how she looked while asleep returns to her face.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for getting like that,” she whispers, meeting my gaze. I shake my head.

“Don’t worry ma,” I murmur, which makes her giggle.

“I’m not so sure about that nickname,” she laughs infectiously, making me laugh too.

“Forreal? Girls usually like it,” I grin, making her break into giggles. Never unwrapping my arms, I walk her backwards to the couch, letting go to sit the girl down. Her green eyes look up at me, confused.

“Now you’re gonna sit down, and I’m gon’ make some coffee for you.”

“But what about wo-”

“It can wait, it’s the weekend. You got time. Now lie down, chill, and wait.”

“But you don’t know how to use my french press.”

“I’ll figure it out. Sit, please Iz.”

With a sigh she gives up, curling up against the corner of the couch and pulling a blanket over herself. Pride spreads over me for getting the girl to relax. All because of my efforts.

I make my way into her tidy kitchen, hands desperately googling for instructions on how to work the french press sitting on the counter. Following the video I found carefully, I leave the coffee to brew while opening the fridge, each shelf organised perfectly. Ignoring Izara’s plans for blueberry oatmeal written on the chalkboard, I grab some peppers, cherry tomatoes and zucchini, carefully chopping them up the way the dark haired girl taught me to - by holding the tip of the knife against the board.

I fry the vegetables, adding in a mix of eggs and milk and scrambling it all together until done. Rummaging through the cabinets I find plates and mugs, setting everything up for the both of us, making sure to give the bigger portion to Izara.

She’s lying down on the couch, nose already buried in a book as I set everything down on the coffee table. The dark haired girl puts her book down, eyes widening. Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have cooked.

“Uh, I made breakfast too, is that ok?” I ask, suddenly unsure.

She’s looking back and forth from the food to me. I chew on my lower lip to hide the nervousness.

“That’s… really sweet Paige,” she hums genuinely, reaching for her coffee and sipping on it. Relief washes over me, and I sit next to her. There’s something unfamiliar in her expression, something I can’t quite read.

“Well taste it first, thank me later,” I chuckle, handing Iz her plate. The girl’s lips wrap around the fork, and she smiles contentedly. 

“This is delicious,” she smiles, taking another bite and turning to me. “Thank you,” Izzie murmurs, her hand squeezing my thigh affectionately. At that moment I decide no amount of praise by her would ever be enough. That I would continue to strive to get more as long as I could. I had no other choice.

-

taglist:@wbbgetsmewetter @thaatdigitaldiary @pb524830 @bueckersfive @lupinqs @sierrale8ne @d3arapril @lovegalor333 @avvwritesstufff @rosemariiaa @bueckers22 @taylynbueckers44 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @rizzlerbuckets @wosolipa @bridgetloveswomen @paiges-1vur @slut4uconnwbb @xxloveralways14 @bueckersbitch @janaelalfysblunt @omg-imtumbling @angryflowerwitch @ohbueckers

[vivwritesfics]

I almost forgot but here’s your reminder 🫶🏻

THANK YOU LILY

(this is gonna be the only thing I do today bc my head fuckin hurts) (Also happy Rhett Abbott day, I definitely didn't base readers family on the abbotts)

Series Masterlist

Logan Sargeant never saw himself doing a fifteen hour drive with his pet raccoon in the passenger seat. But Moon would have freaked out on a plane.

But it was worth it. Logan missed his girl and moon missed his mum. For that, Logan was willing to make the drive.

He knew her family had a working cattle ranch. He just didn't expect it to be this fucking huge.

He drove through the gate and kept on going. There were huge pastures either side of the drive up to the house. There was a good five minutes of driving until Logan finally saw the barn, and then the house.

The house was huge, but it was old and definitely needed repairs. He parked up outside of the house, scooped Moon into his arms and climbed out of the car.

His heart was in his throat as he knocked on the front door. She had no idea she was coming, and Logan hadn't met her family yet. Nervous was an understatement.

But then a literal, real life cowboy pulled open the door. "Can I help you?" He asked, voice deep, accent country. It was a world away from what Logan knew. This guy was huge. Tall, taller than Logan, and all muscle. He had a Stetson on his head and hair curling around his ears.

But then his eyes moved down to the raccoon in Logan's arms and his eyes lit up. "Is this Moon?" He asked.

"Yep," Logan said and held Moon's hand up to imitate waving. "I'm Logan," he said and help out his own hand towards the cowboy.

The cowboy shook it, introduced himself, and then let Logan into the house.

The cowboy, her brother, was more interested in Moon than he was in Logan. But Logan didn't mind. He'd been nervous to meet her family and Moon was definitely helping. When her mother came down the stairs, she fussed over Moon, not even noticing Logan at first.

When she introduced herself to Logan, she offered him lunch. Logan had thought that he'd take his girl out for lunch, but it was clear the offer from her mother was about more than actual food.

Her mother stood on the porch and hollered their names. "LUNCH!" She shouted.

Logan could see from the window as three people, all wearing Stetsons, walked out of the barn just across from the house. There were two men in front, one much older and one younger, and her bringing up the rear. But she stopped and pulled out her phone and pressed it to his ear.

Logan felt his own vibrate in his pocket, but he didn't answer it. She watched as she pulled her phone away from her ear in disappointment before she slipped it into her pocket and headed up to the house.

But then, as she walked through the front door, she saw him. Her jaw dropped as she stared at him. "Hi, baby," Logan said.

She ran towards him.

But completely ignored Logan.

"Oh, my baby!" She cried as she scooped moon into her arms and pressed kisses all over his face. "Oh, I missed you, my baby." She turned towards her brother, the one she had walked up from the barn with. "Per, come meet your nephew!"

[painted-bees]

“It isn't for you, it's because of you.

Because of you, I can finally do this for myself.

Because I want to.

Because I trust you with it.

It's all because of you,

and I'm so fucking thankful.”

-- [Jan 28th, 2014] The weather had conspired against him.

Or perhaps it was trying to protect him. Either way, the cold snap that washed over Vancouver on this sunny January afternoon was perfectly timed to ruin the months of careful planning, frivolous spending, and emotional safeguarding Raf had done in preparation for the performance today. It was as though the sky had opened up to release every breath of warm air that the previous weeks of relentless overcast had, until now, valiantly sealed in.

 To make matters worse, Raf couldn’t turn to Margie for consolation about it. She didn’t know anything about a performance happening today, and it needed to stay that way until at least 6 pm. Her distractible nature had been a huge blessing for him during the past long months of preparation and rehearsals, and this was the last day he'd have to work behind her back. He was thankful for that. Tess had whisked her out into town this morning under the pretence of finding a suitable birthday present to ‘surprise’ him with. It was an effective ruse to keep Margie busy and secreted away from him while he fulfilled the final preparations for the day’s event.

  He was half expecting to arrive at Jack Poole Plaza only to be met by an unfortunate orchestra representative tasked with dispensing the bad news of postponement due to the unusual cold. Instead, the venue was abuzz with activity, warmed by the familiar din of pre-performance energy.   Or rather–it was the arrangement of outdoor heaters that kept the temperature surprisingly manageable in key locations across the venue. That was one of the expenditures Raf had considered “a frivolous necessity” when he committed to it, and it was certainly paying dividends today. 

  “Raf!” The sound of Nels’ voice as he approached was every bit as warm as the heaters. “Boy, you sure picked a day, didn’t you?” As the older man closed the distance, one of his large hands clapped down on Raf’s shoulder with an amicable jostle.

  “Well," Raf said, "no one called to postpone.” Genuine disbelief coloured his tone in a manner that wholly undermined his attempt at a half-joke.

  Nels barked a laugh, “Bah! Over a little cold? No chance. But snow?” He held up a finger, “One snowflake hits that pavement and the whole city' in shut down” He looked up at the sky, wincing against the sunlight. “Thankfully not a problem today!”

  Raf offered a small smirk that bordered on a grimace. “It’s not great for the instruments, though.”

  “Cold feet?”

  “Cold everything.” 

  Nels held him with a gentle but uncompromising gaze. “Train’s already moving, kiddo. Can’t stop now.”

  Turning his eyes towards the stage with a relenting sigh, Raf began making strides across the vast concrete venue towards it. “Outdoor concert in the middle of winter was a terrible idea. Why didn’t anyone stop me?”

  “I recall there was an attempt,” Nels said, “But, ah…You had a clear vision, a convincing argument, and a lot of money.”

  “Yeah, I’m also insane. Nels, I hate crowds, I hate public events. Why am I hosting one?”

  “You love the audience and,” Nels’ hand found Raf’s shoulder again, halting him before the stairs leading up to the left side of the temporary stage set-up. “You love Margie. That’s the kind of insanity that drove all this. She adores this sort of thing. She’s gonna be beside herself. Inconsolable, even. And you know that. That’s why you’re doing this.”

  “Mmh.” That was a swing and a miss, but Raf had no desire to engage in the pedantry dissecting his own mercurial motivations, and so, he was content to leave it there.

  Recognizing the full stop in Raf’s voice, Nels clapped his hands together and led the way onto the stage. “Well-! Things here are looking and sounding well on our end. Security’s all set. It’s not going to be a flood of people all at once but, as you can see,” he gestured out towards the plaza, “We’ve already got a population of curious loiterers. We’re wrapping up the last of the sound tests. Speaking of–!” 

  Nels turned his attention to the microphone set up at the front, centre of the stage. Raf intended to follow, but paused at the sight of Naomi making her way over from the other side. She made he way in brisk strides, holding out her open palms in a gesture both of greeting and surprise. 

  “Ooh, you showed up!”

  Raf regarded her with a lopsided smirk and a curt, upward nod of his chin. “Was I not supposed to?”

  She rubbed her hands together and squeezed the fingertips of one hand in the palm of her other. “Dunno, Ephrem. How you feelin' about it?”

  “Trying not to,” Raf admitted. “But it’s mostly fine. I’ve got Kill Bill sirens going off in my head a bit. First time I’ve ever managed something like this myself, but I am managing, so–” With a Super Mario-pitched voice, and a weak upward pump of his fist, he concluded, “Wahoo.” An aptly appropriated Margie-ism.

  “Man, shut the fuck up. You ain’t managing nothin’ yourself this time, either.” She scoffed loudly. “C’mon I ain’t out here at bitch o’clock in balls degree weather doin’ this shit just so you can tell me you ain’t got no help. Be for real.”

  “That’s not what I–”

  “I know,” she gave him a playful scowl before throwing her hands up in an exaggerated gesture of arrest, “I’m playin’! Jeez, Eph, control your temper, chill. Damn, why you always gotta be yellin’?”

  “Boy, I’m going tah rip your face off.” His stiff posture, quirked eyebrow, and uncharacteristic transatlantic accent delivered his threat with all the seriousness he intended.

  “And ruin your manicure? Girl, you’ll cry.”

  Their short drama play ended with a defusing snort of laughter shared between the two of them.

Thumbing her nose with a sniff, Naomi attempted some honest reassurance. “I think you did a pretty good job, all things considered. Hired the right folks for certain.” She grinned at the compliment as she paid it to herself.

  From their place in the corner of the stage, they both looked out over the set-up and across the venue. The stage itself was populated mostly with venue staff and Hi-Note technicians working in collaboration with each other to make sure things sounded great, looked great, and that no one would kill themselves on any of the countless cables that snaked across the floor.

  Beyond the stage, the last of the temporary barriers and crowd management measures were being organised and installed. Raf himself didn’t know what to expect in that regard, and had no option but to trust that the venue staff knew what they were doing. At the very least, a free admission orchestral event wasn’t new to them. One such concert had been hosted here in the summer, and just like that one, this event was advertised months in advance to draw out as large a crowd as possible. But he hadn’t been the one to advertise it. In fact, he had explicitly forbidden any mention of him or of a vocal performance at all. No, this was advertised in a manner similar to the summer’s concert. And indeed, the programme would be much the same–but it would end with his performance.

 Even as the staff set about their tasks, a budding population of curious doddlers seemed content to wander and wait around for something exciting to begin. It was a lot to hold in his head, and there were countless variables he had no control over–many of which relied on the cooperation of other people. Complete strangers. An overwhelming number of things could and likely would go wrong, and anything that went right would only do so thanks to luck. At least–that’s what his gut told him.

  It would be the first concert he’d perform, without Margie, in almost a decade. It would be the first performance without her that centred him since…

  Since Ephrem Records.   A chill unrelated to the cold forced him to shudder visibly, and he steadied himself with an automatic, curtly huffed sigh. This was not that. He had stared that beast directly in the eyes, he had walked into its horrifying, revenous maw and–

  He came back home. Safe. Sound. Completely unscathed.

  It–that–Ephrem Records and the nightmares within it had no control over him anymore. Though it had tried, it couldn’t keep him. That cage door had fallen off its hinges and would no longer close on him. It was a freedom he had had never in his life known before.

  Beside him, Naomi had turned her gaze to watch him. “Remember after Lacey ditched? How you said you weren’t never gonna get on stage for anyone anymore?”

  “Mmhm.”

  “You been cancellin’ shit all the time because you just ain’t gonna perform if you don’t wanna.”

  “Mmhm.”

  “But you’re here. Today. Like--your birthday’s tomorrow. You didn't wanna take it easy for that?”

  Raf turned his head to cast a very slight, wry smile down towards her. “Mmh, nah.”

 Her eyes lit up under the validating glow of his expression. “Nooo, see! I was gonna ask who you doin’ this for, really? But that shit eating grin–” a cackle punctuated her sentence. “This ain't for Margie. Is it?”

  Naomi’s laugh infected him well enough to let out a small snort of laughter all his own. “She'd hate it if it was. No, I just--wanted to see for myself if...Uh. This wouldn't kill me."

"I've been sayin', too, Margie ain't about seeing you freak out for her!" Naomi clasped her hands together and dipped forward in an elated gesture. "Well, you don't look like you're dying."

"Yeah--I don' think I will. "

–

  “Raf’s impossible to shop for. I don’t know what we were expecting to find.” Margie's conclusion arrived at the end of a long day spent following Tess around the whole, wide city in search of a gift for a man who placed very little value on material wealth. “There’s nothing we could buy that he couldn't afford himself. And it’s hard to put proper thought into it when it’s so last minute.” There was tired frustration in her voice.

  Savouring a strawberry frappe through a bent straw, Cortes remained wholly unbothered by the state of affairs. With a shrug, her free hand gestured to sign a sloppily composed, “Raf’s birthday gift can be all the friends we met along the way.” 

  Margie let out one of her conversationally reflexive little giggles. “Yeah, yeah! All none of them.”

  The sun had already begun to sink beneath the city skyline, and in its wake the clear sky was turning a shade of deep indigo. An already frigid day was turning into an even colder night. Too cold to be out walking along the seawall. Tess’s choice of a blended iced beverage was nothing short of absurd but, just like the failure of their gift-hunting quest, the freezing cold seemed to have no ill effect on Cortes whatsoever. While Margie’s breath hung like a ghost in the air and caused an uncomfortable moisture to collect on the fraying filaments of her scarf, Tess suffered no such inconvenience. Margie was bundled for warmth, but Tess wore her winter layers only for the aesthetic of it.

  Without looking at her, Tess signed with languid gestures, “We should probably head home, now. I’m getting bored.”

  Margie might have agreed, but something else tugged her attention. She grabbed Tess's arm to halt her. “Hang on, shh!” 

  A pause.

  A swell of string and brass carried itself on the chill ocean breeze. It wasn’t uncommon to hear music playing from the various shops and storefronts that lined the city streets, especially during the holiday months. But…

  “Does that sound live to you?”

  Tess appeared to listen for a moment longer before shrugging. 

  “It’s coming from the plaza.”

  Another shrug from Tess preceded an inquiring forefinger flopped with mild indifference towards the stairs leading out of the park, up towards the convention centre. 

  Margie nodded and shook Tess’s arm in her grip. “Yeah, I just wanna looksee!”

  With one last resigned shrug, Cortes allowed Margie to lead the way forward.

  As they crested the wide staircase, the plaza greeted them with an array of bright, warm lights and a buzz of activity. Margie immediately b-lined to read one of the standing signs that named the event to her.

  “Wait, no! What? This was today?” She turned a baleful gaze up at Tess. “We missed the summer one, so I was gonna tell Raf about this one. But I thought it was like–next month!” She gestured with both arms towards the banner sign. “Free concert! VMO! Tess! I’m so upset!”  Dropping her arms to her side, Margie slouched under the weight of her disappointment. “This woulda been a perfect birthday gift for him. Why did I think it was in February?”

  Tess’s hand came down gently upon the top of Margie’s head in a placating pat-pat. At the same time, an unfamiliar man’s voice addressed them from the side.

  “Excuse me, Ma’am?”

  Glancing up, Margie watched the man approach, well dressed for the weather with a bright yellow and black jacket. “Genesis Security” was emblazoned in bold, white letters across the breast and shoulder. He wasn’t addressing her. The man’s gaze was locked firmly onto Tess.

  “Ma’am,” he repeated, “I've been instructed to show you to your seat, if you’ll please follow me.”

  “Woah...” Margie watched the guy's back as he began to lead the way forward through the plaza. "How does this keep happening to you?" It seemed that no matter where Tess went, there was always something special waiting for her. People treated her like a rock star, honored by her mere presence. Apparently, this was just another such instance.

 Shrug. Tess tapped on the shoulder of the security guard and locked eyes with him before pointing to Margie, then to herself, and then back to Margie again.

  With a nod, the guard responded, “I don't see why not. But let's hurry. Show's half done by now.”

  The guard made haste, Tess kept in stride, and Margie was forced to shuffle quite swiftly in order to keep up. As she did so, her hands fumbled around in her pockets until they found her phone.

  “I should call Raf, maybe he can make it in time if he’s still at Hi-Note!” Neither Tess nor the guard in front of her said anything to discourage the thought, and so Margie hit his name in on quick-dial and waited for him to pick up.

  Instead, she was immediately met with the robotic voice of his service provider.

  With a small groan of disappointment, Margie lowered her phone to send a text message, muttering under her breath, “Why is your phone turned off, you wiener?”

  The two of them were led through the well populated venue towards the very frontmost row of seating, where Tess was presented with two vacant seats.

  “Oh,” Margie took her seat next to Tess, “Raf wouldn’t have been able to sit with us, anyways.”

  Perhaps sensing the tinge of melancholy in her voice, Tess reached over to wrap an arm around Margie’s shoulders and pulled her in close. With a sigh, Margie nestled herself cozily against Tess and made the conscious effort to shift her attitude and appreciate the free show with her ever patient girlfriend. It was thanks to Tess that she got to see this performance at all–and with that thought, Margie was able to replace her disappointment for failing their day’s objective with thankfulness towards the present moment.

  The orchestra played an enjoyable, eclectic selection of compositions, most of which Margie couldn’t name. Perhaps the only one she properly recognized was the Star Wars theme, which stood out somewhat comedically against the others–all of which she had assumed to be classical pieces. 

  The final piece–or rather, what was presented as the final piece–was no doubt Tchaikovsky. She knew Tchaikovsky. Just…not well enough to name his compositions. But this was definitely him! To her ears, everything sounded beautiful. Had Raf been there, he might have identified nuances in the performance, both good and bad, highlighting them to her so that she might be able to notice them, too. There was a shared enjoyment between them for that kind of thing. In contrast, Tess was a remarkably stoic and quiet person to sit with when it came to anything involving live music. Her enormous, dark eyes stared unblinking as she listened; transfixed by the intricate braiding of sounds. Her long, lithe fingers twirled themselves repeatedly into the stray curls of Margie’s hair. It was a tiny, thoughtless, but comfortingly intimate gesture. Despite the best efforts of the late January weather, Magritte felt remarkably warmed.

  Tchaikovsky came to an end, and both she and Tess contributed to the roar of applause that persisted even as the musicians stood to leave, abandoning their instruments on the stage.

  Keeping with the applause, Margie leaned towards Tess’s ear. “Sit tight, there’s prolly gonna be a–oop, yep!”

  Her statement was confirmed before she even had time to finish saying it, as the musicians quickly emerged to retake their seats on the stage. As they did, Margie stopped clapping, waiting to hear if their encore was a song she could identify. As the rest of the applause died down, two additional figures took position onto the stage; a trio of previously absent musicians took positions on the stage. Or, at least–if they had been present previously, they were on entirely different instruments, now. Three electric guitars, one of which was a bass.

  Margie squinted at the rightmost guitarist and her bumblebee-yellow Kramer. “Oh, woah–is that Naomi? Tess, you see her!?” She couldn’t help but pick up an applause with an exhilarated whoop at seeing a friendly face among the cast of talented strangers.

  It worked to catch Naomi’s attention, and Margie was rewarded with an acknowledging little wave, bright smile, and a thumbs up.

  Clasping her hands together, Margie leaned back in her seat with a delighted giggle. “That’s so cool, this is gonna be so good!”

  A blanket of quiet settled upon the venue, and after a moment's pause, the orchestra’s instruments sprang to life once more. The number opened with a swelling whirl of notes that immediately swept Margie’s imagination into the realm of Broadway romance. And then–

  She heard his voice.

  A pleasing falsetto that wove itself beautifully into the airy strings, Margie knew who she was hearing before he had even walked onto the stage. One note was all it took.

I got inspired to post cringe, I hope you like it lmaooo About a year prior to these events, Margie and Tess had accompanied Raf to a very emotionally turbulent trip to Monaco. It wasn't a vacation, and it wasn't what any of them would describe as particularly enjoyable...Perhaps some day, we'll learn more about what happened there and why he went. One thing that did happen, on a very desperate whim, is that Raf had asked Margie to marry him. No real proposal--something asserted on the spot, motivated more by fear than anything else. Margie said yes, of course--but only on the condition that he ask her again once they were settled back home in Vancouver. She said--promised--she wasn't going to bring it up again unless he brought it up first; that there was no pressure for him to repeat the question once he was feeling comfortable and secure again. It's just--he seemed too emotionally compromised for Margie to really accept the proposal as one that was offered to her with soundness of mind. And so--to ensure that it was something he actually meant--she would forget it was asked at all, until he brought it up again on his own accord upon their return to Canada. No need to any special occasion, now jewelry, none of that--just ask the same way he did in Monaco...but without the undercurrent of panic coloring his judgement. They returned from Monaco safe and sound, and neither Margie nor Raf breathed a word about the Monaco proposal. Margie assumed Raf forgot--or perhaps he had come to his better senses and no longer felt like his well being and safety relied on lawfully locking down their relationship together. As she had expected would be the case. On the other hand, Raf had waited two months to see if Margie would bring it up at all, or if she'd stick to her promise and release him from the obligation of following through. To him, it seemed like she had completely forgotten; ss though he had never asked her to marry him at all. Unbeknownst to her, he hadn't changed his mind. The fact that she wouldn't so much as even allude to it for his sake only imbued further confidence in his decision. She had been with him through hell and high water, she was there in all the ways she promised to be, she gave him the space and the grace he needed, carried him through some of his lowest days, and kept him safe when he was certain no one in the world ever could. She loved him during his worst days, and shouldered his worst behaviors only because she loved being with him. She never asked him for anything spectacular. She never wished to see him spend the limit of his resources on her. She only ever wished to enjoy things with him--and his enjoyment was a critical part of that desire. Over the several years they had been together, one thing became abundantly clear; Margie deserved every good thing he could grant her. Margie could be trusted to receive his best efforts and his greatest gifts without ruin. And for the first time in his life, he wanted to give those to someone--to her. Because it felt right. Because he'd love doing so. Because she fucking deserved it. Performances had become pretty comfortable for Raf by this point. He, Margie, and Tess had been doing them on the semi-regular before certain events dragged him back to Monaco. Even his post performance PTSD episodes--while still present--were far more manageable than they had ever been. He no longer plagued with week-long emotional lows that greatly overshadowed the euphoria of a great performance. Things just felt...more balanced.

Enough so that Raf decided his proposal to Magritte would, itself, be a performance. Planned and organized by him, with the help of Hi-Note. If he could organize an perform a concert as a gift for someone he loved--without succumbing to abject terror and paranoia at any point during the months of preparation--well... That kind of freedom over himself would be the best gift he's ever received. And so--he planned the performance/proposal for his birthday. Margie watched the last half of the orchestra concert with Tess, having no idea that Raf would be the encore act. Tess, of course, had been in on it as a collaborator. She knew the guard would address her for the seating--they had met prior as part of the preparations. She and Raf both knew that Margie wouldn't find anything suspect in the fact that Tess would be spontaneously offered some kind of V.I.P seating. Tess's ridiculous, ambiguous "celebrity status" had basically become a meme between them at this point. It wasn't unusual... It was all planned. And everything played out pretty well according to that plan. Once Raf too the stage, Tess pulled Margie out of her seat and led her to the stage (exchanging a thumbs-up with Nels along the way). Margie followed along in good fun. By this point, she knew shenanigans were afoot--and slipped into her role very agreeably once Nels confirmed that, yes, she's expected on the stage. She was happy to play along.

The dance she and Raf "perform" wasn't any choreographed thing. Rather, it's the same kind of lackadaisical dancing they'd often do in their livingroom at home haha. And then...there was no more performance...just overwhelm and joy and a lot of love...and Kirby rings lmaooo which made her even MORE overwhelmed. And then the rest of the night was just one big overjoyed, emotional blur. Okay, I've typed too much...this is all very silly, but I made it so you can have the whole bunch of it! Bonus: The next morning, they woke up with a terrible cold...and spent the entire day recovering in bed lmao

(happy birthday, Raf lmao).

[realdramalove69]

Imagine being pregnant back to back to back to back….

Anna sighed heavily, each footstep painful as she made her way down the stairs. Her back ached, her baby filled belly constantly moving and weighing her down. Her large maternity dress barely covered her belly, the bottom of it only inches off the ground. At only twenty three years old she was already on her fifth pregnancy and this litter was her biggest yet.

She walked into the kitchen and began the task of preparing breakfast for her many children and her husband. She herself was starving, but she ate last. Her family took priority. Bacon, eggs, toast, pancakes, and bottles of milk for her many smaller babies.

As the sound of sizzling bacon wafted through the house her older children began to stir, making their way into the kitchen. Her oldest, a set of quints, helped get the younger children in their seats, setting the table for their gravid mother.

Anna looked at her children, not quite believing she already had so many. When she was eighteen her and her boyfriend, Dave, had sex for the first time, resulting in the quints. They were shocked to find out they were having so many but the doctor couldn’t explain it. Anna was just very fertile. Ever since then Dave kept her pregnant, not wanting her womb to be empty for even a second. Another set of quints and octuplets shortly followed and her last litter, a set of ten, was still sleeping soundly upstairs in their cribs.

Anna rubbed her belly. She was nearing her due date with the baker’s dozen now residing inside of her and she was eager to finally get them out. Anna was tired of having babies. She didn’t want to be pregnant anymore. Instead she wanted to spend time with the many children she already had; another part of her also wanted to just be a kid herself, enjoying the perks of being nearly twenty one.

“Morning,” Anna’s husband, Dave, said as he entered the kitchen. He lovingly stroked her belly, feeling the large babies beneath the skin. “How are my babies doing today?”

“They’re restless, that's for sure,” Anna replied.

“Well they only have a few more weeks in there.” Dave kissed her belly button, making her moan lowly as he rubbed her sensitive skin, pushing up her large maternity shirt to show off her gravid curves.

Anna tried to push him away but her belly was too big. She couldn’t reach him past her stretched womb. She instead handed Dave a plate and watched him sit down. She served the rest of her children before making herself a large plate, her cravings always getting the best of her.

Dave quickly ate. “I’ve got to get to the office. But you all be good for mommy today!” He kissed the heads of his children and left, leaving Anna to get the kids ready for the day all by herself.

It was a tough task taking care of her twenty eight children all by herself. Dave believed in traditional husband and wife roles: he would work and get to come home and relax while she took care of the house. All while giving him even more babies. She got the two sets of quints dressed for pre-school and loaded them into the large minivan, her mom stopping by to help drive them to school. Anna had lost the ability to drive months ago when her belly wouldn’t fit behind the wheel anymore.

“Good morning,” Anna’s mom, Crystal, said. “How are my grandbabies today?”

“Good!” the kids shouted.

Crystal patted her daughter’s belly and smiled. “How blessed your family is. So many babies and more to come.”

Anna forced a smile. “Yeah, I can't quite believe it sometimes. Can you pick them up at around 3 for me?”

“Of course! Anything for you. And I’ll be by after I drop them off to help with the little little ones.”

Crystal drove off with the ten kids leaving Anna alone to take care of the other 18. She grunted as she walked back up the stairs, needing to feed the babies. She had to go up the stairs sideways, her stomach squished between her and the railing. She sat heavily in the rocking chair and heaved her large breasts out of her shirt before beginning the long task of feeding ten fat and hungry babies.

Anna couldn’t help but resent her husband's lack of help. She was tired all the time, especially with thirteen more babies on the way. And she wanted a break from all of it. She knew getting pregnant again would only make her bigger and she dreaded the fact that one of these pregnancies would make her immobile. She rubbed her belly as the babies finished eating, concerned about how to even broach this topic with her baby crazy husband.

The end of the day finally came, her children were in bed, and Anna was able to take her gravid body to her own bedroom where she laid down heavily, the frame creaking under her weight. Dave rubbed her near full term belly. He couldn’t get enough of her pregnant form, demanding sex almost nightly. Anna would oblige, letting her husband pound away at her while she laid there, wondering how she could convince him to stop having babies.

After Dave busted in her he laid back next to her, panting heavily.

“How much longer until I can put another batch in you,” he said.

“I wanted to talk about that, actually,” Anna said. She pushed herself into a seated position, rubbing her belly to calm her babies. “I don’t want to get pregnant again.”

Dave frowned. “At all?”

Anna nodded. “I’m tired all the time. There's so many babies to take care of already and it's hard to do with this sticking out of me. I need a break.”

“You’re my wife. You’re supposed to give me a family.”

“I have given you a family. I’m telling you now, I’m starting birth control the minute these babies are born. Or you're getting a vasectomy. Got it?”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this?”

“Because, Dave, this isn’t exactly what I thought my life would be.”

Dave nodded. “Alright. If it’s what you want. I will respect it.”

“Thank you. Goodnight.”

Anna turned on her side to try and get some sleep, surprised at how well that conversation went.

Dave, however, was not about to let his wife be without child. He laid awake, coming up with ways to convince Anna to get pregnant again. He even googled fertility drugs, wondering if there was a way he could replace the birth control with them instead.

The next morning Dave hopped out of bed and left the house quickly, leaving Anna alone with the sleeping children. He needed a plan. He went to his place of work, a science lab dedicated to advancing humans faster than ever before. While Dave may have been young, he was incredibly smart and worked through the ranks quickly, learning all that he could.

Dave went to his lab and looked around. He was the first one there, just as he hoped. He opened his locked drawer and pulled out a notebook labeled “Fertility”. He had been studying his wife’s extreme fertility for awhile now, all in secret. He had wanted to create a way for even the most barren of women to be able to conceive but now he wanted something that would make even those who hated kids want to do nothing but breed. He studied his previous concoctions and set to work creating a small bottle of what looked like perfume.

“This better work,” he muttered to himself. He grabbed the small bottle and pocketed it before locking away his secrets once again.

-------

A month later and Anna found her stomach flat once again as the 13 new babies laid crying around her. She had given birth on time, per usual, and all her babies were large and healthy. Dave smiled as he picked up the two week old babies, looking at his wife who seemed less than eager about the task ahead of her.

“How many miracles we have made,” Dave said.

“I know. But I’m not sure how I will be able to take care of them all myself.”

“You’re a wonderful mother. You will find a way.”

Dave kissed her but he could sense Anna’s resentment. He set the babies down and decided this was the right time.

“I have a gift for you,” Dave said. “Come with me.”

Anna followed her husband to their bedroom. A gift from him was rare and Anna was confused as to what the occasion was.

“Did I forget an anniversary?” Anna asked.

“No! I just wanted to show my wife how much I appreciate her.”

Dave handed her a neatly wrapped box. Anna took it and unwrapped it, revealing the small glass bottle.

“It’s perfume,” Dave said. “The lady said it smelled like lemons and honey which I know is your favorite.”

Anna smiled. “Thank you! This is actually very thoughtful.”

“Why don’t you try it out?”

Anna obliged, taking the perfume and spritzing it on her wrists and neck. It smelled amazing, making her close her eyes and breathe it in deeply.

“Wow,” Anna whispered. “That’s amazing.”

When she opened her eyes she looked her husband up and down and licked her lips. She was suddenly feeling very...horny. Anna rubbed her flat stomach, feeling how empty it was and how full she needed it to be.

What is wrong with me? She thought to herself. Get a hold of yourself!

But the drug was more powerful than Anna’s own mind. Dave walked closer to her, pressing her body against his as he grabbed her plump rear, making her squeak.

“You want more babies?” Dave asked. “I know how empty you must feel.”

"No," Anna whimpered. "We said...no more..." But she felt her thighs rubbing together and her pussy growing wet at the thought of growing even bigger.

Dave grabbed her and picked her up, taking her to the bed and laying her on her back. She moaned in protest, but she couldn't fight the intense hormones now raging through her.

Dave wasted no time ripping off her yoga pants and thrusting himself into her, his cock filling her tight pussy. He gripped her leaking breasts and pumped faster, eager to fill her before the perfume wore off.

Anna couldn't help but moan and groan as he hit all her sensitive areas. She could hear the voice of reason in the back of her mind screaming at her to stop, knowing she would only get more pregnant, but she laid helpless on the bed, cumming over and over as Dave gripped her thighs.

"I'm gonna fill you until you burst!" Dave groaned as he felt his cock growing hotter.

Before Anna could get him out of her, he shot ropes of hot cum into her waiting vagina. He held himself against her, not wanting any of the precious seed to leak out.

Anna came again, rubbing her flat stomach, her senses returning to her as Dave leaned on top of her, sucking on her ripe tits.

"What did you do?!" Anna screamed.

"Gave you what you wanted," Dave replied. He pulled out of her and left her laying on the bed, cum still leaking from her.

Anna rubbed her stomach and started to cry, knowing what the next ten months would bring.

-------

Four months in and Anna was already huge. She rubbed her quintuplet sized belly, groaning as she tried to heave herself out of bed to tend to her crying newborns. Dave slept soundly beside her, not even attempting to help care for his kids.

Anna finally got herself standing, her hands pushing into her lower back. She waddled heavily to the nursery, her tits already leaking through her maternity nightgown.

"Shh shh," she cooed as she began to nurse the 13 new babies. Her previous ten began to stir as well, wanting their mother’s precious milk.

"Oh, there's too many," Anna said as she tried to soothe the babies she couldn't feed right away.

It took hours but finally all the babies were fed and asleep and Anna could take her tired body back to bed. She laid back down on her side, her belly hanging off the side of the mattress. Dave rolled over and rubbed her tummy, feeling the stretched skin. He kissed her neck, making her groan.

"You're so big already," he moaned. "I want you bigger."

“I can't get bigger. I'll burst!"

"You'll grow beautifully my gravid wife."

Dave pulled down her underwear and pushed his aching member into her pussy. She groaned as he pumped in and out of her, making the bed creak under her gravid weight. He grabbed the bottle of perfume and spritzed it on her neck, seeing her eyelids close gently as the extra hormones took over her.

Anna wanted to protest but she couldn't help but moan lustfully as Dave hit all her sensitive spots. This pregnancy was already so heavy and it made her hornier than ever before. She could feel all the weight of her tummy pushing on her hips and vagina as Dave rolled her onto her back, pressing his muscular torso against the underside of her belly. He gripped the sides of her belly as he thrust in and out of her, making her cry out.

“Oooohhh,” Anna moaned. “Oh fill me up! I’m already so full but I need more!”

“And I’ll give you more!” Dave grunted. He sucked on her belly button, his tongue pressing the flat flesh back into her stretched skin.

“Dave! I’m gonna cum!” Anna shrieked.

“Get ready for my babies!”

Dave thrust once more before busting inside of her. Anna groaned as she felt her own orgasm go through her, making her legs go limp. He pressed against her, shoving his cum into her, urging her to grow bigger and bigger.

“Oh,” Anna groaned as Dave pulled out of her and got her back on her side. “Oh it’s so big already.”

“Just how I like it,” Dave moaned. He rubbed her belly as she struggled to get comfortable, eager to know just how pregnant he had gotten her this time.

[storywriter007]

Younger, Friskier, Newer - Jack Schlossberg x Fem!Reader FANFIC

disclaimer: all of the work written below is purely fiction and should be treated as such! none of this is real!

summary: in which y/n realizes her husband is no different than the men who came before him

warnings: cheating, cursing

genre: angst

word count: 645

✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒✧.⭒

y/n made her way down the pristine hallways of the white house. she was exhausted, after being in court all day.

many people were shocked when y/n continued to work as a lawyer. being first lady didn't mean she was just going to drop her career. she'd spent her entire life building a reputation for herself.

it was five-thirty in the evening, and y/n wanted to see her husband. she was lucky enough to get off earlier than usual today, and she was looking forward to spending the extra time with her husband. she knew jack was home, she'd seen his car outside.

she arrived at the doors of the famous oval office. she pushed the heavy doors open, and felt her heart drop to her stomach.

there was her husband, making out with some girl (who looked far too young to be in the white house) in the middle of the office. the jacket of his navy blue suit had been discarded over one of the chairs, and his shirt was wrinkled. the young girl was wearing a short, black dress that was disheveled at the bottom. she watched for a few seconds, making sure the affection was mutual.

"jack?" y/n asked, her voice sounding too casual for the situation.

he pulled away from the girl instantly. his brown eyes flooded with guilt and regret as he faced his wife. the young girl began to awkwardly make her way out of the office.

"hold on." y/n said, stopping her. "it's cold outside, where's your jacket?"

"i didn't bring one." she said quietly.

"take mine sweetheart." she said calmly, giving the young girl her jacket. "get home safe. sir, please walk the young lady out."

the security guard made his way next to the girl. she nodded quickly before walking out.

"y/n, i can explain-" he started.

"you don't need to." she interrupted. "i should've seen this coming."

"what?" he asked, confused. "what do you mean?"

"you're the president of the united states. you're smart and you're charming. and no matter how much time we made for each other, even if i had left my career behind and become the perfect first lady, you were always going to cheat on me." she explained. "with someone younger, friskier, newer. because that's handsome, intelligent men do; they look for the next new thing. the next thing that can entertain them, and when they get bored of her, they find another girl."

"that's not true." he protested.

"really? then please tell me why you felt the need to cheat on me." she demanded.

"we just don't see each other often-" he trailed off.

"even if we did jack, you would've gotten bored of me, one way or another. that's why everyone cheats, don't they? because they're bored."

"y/n, i-" he started. "i'm sorry. i'm really fucking sorry. it wasn't anything more than this, this is the first time we've ever kissed."

y/n stayed silent.

"i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry." he said, his eyes filling up with an unbelievable amount of regret.

she made his way to him, fixing his tie and his shirt.

"you're so handsome. it's true, kennedy genes run strong." she smiled.

she could see the relief on his face. the tension in his face died down as he relaxed.

"but kennedy infidelity runs stronger, doesn't it?" she finished, patting his chest and turning around to walk away.

"y/n." he called out, but she didn't turn around.

she needed to be away from him. she got in her car, seeing jack call out for her from the door of the white house. when he realized she was leaving, he dashed back to grab his keys, but she wasn't waiting.

she drove on autopilot. her hands gripped the wheel tightly as tears began streaming down her face.