#and it’s not even make content I want right

[andypantsx3]

FILLING IN | BAKUGOU x READER ˖˚˳⊹

summary: A production assistant for an erotic arts studio, you think you've seen every ridiculous plot line under the sun. But not even porn tropes can compare to the absurd reality you find yourself in when the on-screen talent drops out, and you're asked to fill in opposite the studio's number one star Bakugou Katsuki.  contents: The classic oh-no-the-porn-talent-has-gone-missing-let's-sub-a-rando-in trope, no quirks au, pornstar Bakugou, soft dom Bakugou, gn + afab reader, unrequited-requited crush, slight bondage, descriptions of afab genitalia, nipple sucking, cunnilingus, piv sex, pet names used: angel and sweetheart, porn with surprise feelings, 18+, 8.2k words notes: This is my Bakugou x Reader commitment for @ficsforgaza, and I am sorry it is late enough to also count for Valentine's Day (but also Happy Valentine's Day!!) Additionally, a special thank you to my angel princess @ofmermaidstories for handing me the nerd + pornstar combo when I was worried about Bakugou's characterization. I think this is the only way I could have ever written a pornstar Bakugou that felt right to me. Love you, Mermie.

The studio was churning in chaos by the time you arrived.

The first sign that things weren’t right was Komori, one of your fellow production assistants, propped against the wall outside. Her cellphone was pressed against her ear, and she looked nervous, her foot tapping a thousand miles a minute. She had a thumbnail pressed to her mouth and was chewing steadily through the nail like a rabbit through a lettuce leaf.

You didn’t want to disturb her, so you buzzed inside the studio, only to find the hallways filled with an equally nervous energy. Yaoyorozu, one of the production managers, hovered in the doorway of a dressing room. She looked to be arguing with someone, her normally sweet expression pinched in profile. A small circle of people took up the hallway behind her, shifting apprehensively.

A shrill voice filtered out of the dressing room as you tried to wedge yourself by. “I said I’m not doing it. We’re getting married and we agreed I wouldn’t do this anymore.”

“Bibimi—” Yaoyorozu started.

“Effective immediately. Find someone else,” Bibimi’s voice replied.

You stopped in your tracks, blinking as you turned back to the doorway, peering over Sato’s shoulder.

Bibimi Kenranzaki was one of the studio’s top actresses, the very performer scheduled to shoot the production you were working on this afternoon. The shoot was a Valentine’s Day special, and had already been delayed at Bibimi’s request several times. If you’d understood Yaoyorozu’s previous concerns correctly, today was the last possible day to shoot it with enough time for it to make it through editing to post on Valentine’s.

This was not good.

“Bibimi, of course we would never force you to do something you did not consent to,” Yaoyorozu said patiently. “But you can see how having delayed this shoot many times already puts us in danger of not delivering on our commitments.”

You heard a dismissive snort issue from the room, and peered over one of Yaoyorozu’s slender shoulders. Bibimi lounged across one of the waiting room couches, arms crossed over her chest. An enormous diamond ring you’d never seen before glinted from one of her fingers, clearly the source of today’s change of heart.

Oh, production was not going to be happy.

You winced as you ducked out from behind Yaoyorozu, heading back down the hall to stuff your things into one of the vacant lockers. It was a struggle to fit everything in as today you’d come directly from a lecture—two textbooks the size and weight of cinderblocks choking up all the space in your bag. You would have thought that, considering that a wide swath of the production staff were college students—including several of the performers themselves—the studio would have had a better set up. But it was often a fight to the death to even find an open locker amongst the many other bookbags, and an equally Sisyphean struggle to get the door shut on the tiny cubbies.

Once you finally managed to finagle the door shut on your backpack, you made a beeline for the supply room. Typically, your first task of any shoot was acquisition of about a million pounds of baby wipes and lube, though you wondered if they would be needed today, given the scene with Bibimi you’d just witnessed.

You checked the film schedule posted in the staff entry to find the allotted set room. Then you made your way down the twisting maze halls carpeted with ancient olefin to the set for You Cumplete Me, the obnoxious working title Kaminari had come up with for this particular Valentine’s Day project.

The room was set up like some generic apartment, a large bed with a wire-framed headboard dominating the majority of the space. A cherry wood nightstand cluttered with fake knick knacks stood diligently at the bedside, and two fake windows with their curtains drawn shut overlooked the whole affair, red dressings fluttering slightly in the breeze from a fan.

Most of the production staff was already inside the room, the cameramen and director huddled together in the corner, whispering nervously. You spotted Mina, the wardrobe coordinator and makeup artist, fussing with her phone in the other corner, her various products and brushes spread out across a plastic folding table, looking put out.

“You know if we’re going to be able to sub anyone in for Bibimi?” you asked as you approached her, flopping down in one of the chairs set up at her makeshift dressing table. You arrayed your armful of lube and plastic packs of wipes at the corner so as not to disturb her arrangement.

Mina’s eyes flicked up to yours and she grinned, the upturn of her mouth accented with perfectly-applied hot pink lipstick.

“Komori’s called like ten other actresses so far and can’t get anyone,” Mina answered. “And Shiozaki and Kendo are in-studio but both just got off another shoot so we contractually can’t use them. I think Yaomomo is ready to start shaking people down.”

You winced. Yaoyorozu never lost her cool, but the pressure must be mounting. You knew marketing materials had already been put out on the studio’s website, specifically promising the return of the studio’s highest-grossing star—Bakugou Katsuki—opposite Bibimi.

While Bibimi might be the highest paid actress, Bakugou was the real draw of UA Productions. UA churned out projects that were largely targeted towards less traditional markets—largely women—porn that was often of higher production value, higher quality scripting, and careful coordination showcasing enthusiasm and consent. It also subsequently employed more than its fair share of beautiful men.

And Bakugou Katsuki crowned that pile of performers. Though foul-mouthed and often irascible, he was undeniably breathtaking to behold, both on screen and in person. He was the typical blend of tall, strong, and well-muscled that most UA actors were. But he moved with a singular precision and intention that drove fans wild, and came equipped with bed-rumpled blond hair, mile-long lashes, a surly, pouty mouth, and a facial symmetry that Euclid himself would have wept over.

He was also nearing the end of his doctoral and would not be filming for much longer, you were given to understand. So the studio stood to lose a significant amount of audience trust and money, should this production fall through.

As if on cue, Bakugou Katsuki himself stomped through the doorway. The expression on his face told you he was already well-aware of what was happening with Bibimi, and he was getting annoyed with the hold up. He set a direct line for you and Mina, mouth twisted in dissatisfaction.

Your ears promptly went hot, the way they always did when Bakugou was in your line of vision.

You’d unfortunately had something of a crush on him from the minute you’d become a production assistant at UA, your third year of college. Funds were tight and your masters program loomed large in front of you, its meager stipend like a slap in the face. You’d needed something else flexible, and you’d found UA through the friend of a friend—its proximity to the university, and ever changing schedule of ongoing productions offering the perfect amount of flexibility for your situation.

Bakugou had been there that first day as Yaoyorozu gave you the tour, too. He’d been tucked up on the couch of the waiting room as you passed through, blonde hair rumpled, someone’s lip gloss still smeared at the corner of his jaw. He looked like a soft, relaxed mess—clothes askew like he’d pulled them back on after a shoot and immediately migrated to the couch—though his scarlet eyes tracked intently across the page of an enormous engineering text spread across his thighs. His long fingers twirled a pen absently, tapping against a notebook peeking out from just under the textbook, headphones jammed over his ears.

He did not look up as you made your way inside, but your stomach had flared to life with a sudden flutter of butterflies. You were startled by the pretty set of his mouth, the long lashes that swept over his cheeks as he read, the flex of those long, beautiful fingers on his pen. You had never seen a person so perfect in real life, and the effect was dumbing.

“That’s Bakugou, one of our performers,” Yaoyorozu had told you, leading you through the room. She did not stop to introduce you. “He’s working on a PhD in chemical engineering, and performs once every couple of months for us. He’s—erm—not quite friendly, so we’ll skip the introduction today.”

You’d followed her, nodding obediently, leaving Bakugou behind. You’d dutifully concluded your tour and signed all the paperwork, and met several other members of the staff. It was only when you’d been released from your onboarding obligations that you saw Bakugou again, as you ran out into the parking lot to start your car.

It was raining out, a torrential downpour much worse than when you’d arrived that came down in thick, pelting sheets. Visibility was bad enough that you almost missed the tuft of blonde hair across the parking lot, ducking under the awning of the nearby bus stop.

You knew the route headed back towards your university, and subsequently your apartment, and it dawned on you that Bakugou’s would most likely be attaining his cited PhD at your same college. You felt your mouth twist, impressed. PhD tracks were notoriously difficult to attain at Musutafu University—no wonder Bakugou needed a job that was, for lack of better phrasing, quick and dirty. He probably was drowning in post-grad labs and dissertation materials.

The memory of those long fingers tapping at the edge of his text suddenly flickered again in your brain, and something possessed you as you started up your engine. Before you knew what you were doing, you had pulled your car around into the bus stop bay, leaning out to call out to him.

“Hey—Bakugou, right?” you said, watching as scarlet eyes found yours, narrowing suspiciously. His pretty mouth lifted in an immediate, reflexive snarl, and those broad shoulders squared off, like he was getting ready for trouble.

You cut in, quickly explaining yourself when you realized he had no context for the rando hanging out of their car window at him. “I’m Yaoyorozu’s new production staff. Just joined today. Are you headed towards Musutafu U and do you want a ride?”

A blonde eyebrow lifted. “You’re with UA?” he asked. His voice was a kind of low growl, not unlike the thunder suddenly echoing overhead, and the sound shot through you like a bolt of lightning.

“I—yeah. Just signed the paperwork this afternoon.”

Several spatters of rain dampened your cheeks where you had your head poked out of the window, and Bakugou’s eyes tracked them closely as he leaned in. “Then let’s get one thing straight right off the bat—I don’t fuck coworkers off the clock.”

You recoiled, horrified at the conclusion he’d immediately brought himself to. “No! That’s not what I—I didn’t mean like—! I just thought because it’s raining out, you might want—”

“I want you to fuck right off, is what I want,” Bakugou said, crossing his arms over his chest. He made a show of leaning back against the glass wall of the bus stop, its interior papered over with moldering ads. It was a clear dismissal.

You blinked at him stupidly for a moment, mind reeling that your gesture had been received so poorly. But then you realized he hadn’t seen you, in your trek through the staff room during your afternoon tour. You’d only just seen him, and you hadn’t spoken to him besides. Despite your immediate interest in and respect for him, he knew nothing about you.

And he was a pornstar, come to think of it. He probably had had a fair number of creeps proposition him out of the blue. Enough that he was suspicious now, as you might have been, were you in his position.

Your cheeks heated, suddenly ashamed. You nodded, gritting your teeth as you ducked back inside your car.

“Right, fucking off, as requested,” you said, turning your blinker on to move back out into the road. “Sorry to scare you. See you, um—see you at work sometime.”

“Oi—I ain’t fuckin’ scared,” you heard him growl, but then you were turning back out into the street. You rolled your window back up as you sped up, resisting the urge to look back at Bakugou in the rearview.

What a humiliating first impression that had been.

You'd fretted about it for another week before your first official day at UA, and for several weeks more when you didn’t immediately run into Bakugou. When you’d finally met him properly, however, Bakugou acted like he’d never even seen you before in his life, and you somewhat gratefully followed his lead. He treated you like anyone else, with the same kind of universal severity he turned on the other production staff. You discovered very quickly that he was impatient, brusque, no-nonsense. He stalked onto every set with all the latent energy of a nuclear missile strike, and never softened until after the shoot was over.

His general attitude, and your humiliating first encounter should have been enough to turn you off of him. But the occasional glimpse of him after a shoot—rumpled, relaxed, open in a way he normally wasn’t, in the way that you'd first seen him—was unfortunately enough to keep those initial butterflies aflutter.

The fact that he was smart—and annoyingly adept in the bedroom, considering the number of reshoots his costars often needed after they accidently came too early—did not help matters.

“Where the fuck is Yaoyorozu?” he demanded of you and Mina, as he approached you in the set room now.

You met his scarlet gaze, holding very still under his regard.

“She was negotiating with Bibimi just now when I came in,” you told him, cheeks heating as his eyes flicked over you. He had a very direct way of evaluating people, and rarely missed a detail. You hoped your makeup wasn’t smudged from where you’d had your head propped up in your hand, valiantly resisting falling asleep in your earlier lecture.

“Bibimi’s a waste of fuckin’ time,” Bakugou growled.

You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t very well act opposite his own hand, so someone was going to have to fill in.

“Well Mina says we’re not having luck finding anyone else either so Bibimi is your best bet,” you told him.

Bakugou looked down his perfect nose at you. “Anyone in this damn studio could do better than she does.”

You felt your eyebrows raise. Bibimi was popular with a variety of audiences for her exaggeratedly dollish features—you doubted just anyone could fill in for her and look as good. You said as much to Bakugou, and he scoffed.

“‘S not about looking good, it’s about showing that you’re feeling good,” he said plainly, igniting a wave of fire across your cheeks. The flames worsened when he crossed his arms over his chest and you had occasion to notice he was in nothing but a workout tank, his bare biceps flexing enticingly in the studio lighting.

You were thankfully spared from having to form a coherent response by Yaoyorozu stepping into the room. She was tailed by Komori, and wore a troubled expression. She waved an elegant hand that encompassed both your camp in the corner and the directors on the other side of the room.

“Bibimi is unfortunately out. And we cannot use Shiozaki or Kendo. I am afraid we may have to call off the shoot this afternoon,” she said.

“So get someone else in,” Bakugou said, with his usual brisk directness. He turned to face her. You caught the whiff of something light and clean on him as he did so, laundry detergent and recently-applied shampoo.

Yaoyorozu fixed him with an expectant look. “We’ve unfortunately worked our way through the roster of available performers. Unless you know someone else?”

Bakugou stared back at her evenly, arching a blonde brow. “There’re a bunch of extras already here, aren’t there?”

A little shock went through you. Extras. As in the…people in the room right now? Did he really mean the production staff?

Yaoyorozu blinked, apparently taken aback. Then her gaze slid thoughtfully between Komori, Mina, and you. Another little thrill raced through you, like you’d suddenly missed a step. Surely they both could not actually be considering that.

“I’m a hoe but I’m a loyal hoe,” Mina said from next to you, immediately putting up a rosy palm. “Eiji is my one and only, sorry babes.”

Yaoyorozu nodded. “Of course, I would not expect you to violate any commitments you already had to a significant other.”

“I am also seeing someone,” Komori volunteered, a shy little blush sweeping across her cheeks. You smiled a bit at her obvious regard for whoever it was—until you sensed a dozen pairs of eyes suddenly turning to you.

Your stomach dropped—less of a missed step then and more of a sudden push off a cliff.

Worst of all was the pair of scarlet eyes suddenly burning with undue regard in your direction. You stared straight at Yaoyorozu, unable to meet Bakugou’s gaze. You still felt like you might burn up under his scrutiny, like an ant under a magnifying glass.

“I—uh—” you said dumbly, floundering for the right set of words to explain yourself. “Uhh.”

“You seeing anybody?” Bakugou prodded, prompting a fresh wave of heat to your cheeks.

“Well—no—”

“You clean?” he asked.

Your face burned hotter. “Yes, if you must know—-but uh—”

“Then what?” he prompted.

“Is it that easy for you? To just switch partners like that?” you asked. You weren’t exactly a blushing virgin but you still had only slept with partners you had cared for. Bakugou had worked with you for years and never signaled anything beyond dismissal and semi-professionalism—so it wasn’t like he had that same level of interest in you, despite your enormous crush on him. How could he just switch, just like that?

Bakugou uncrossed his arms to settle his hands on slim hips instead, and he gave you another evaluating once over. “Something the matter with you?” he asked. You noticed he did not ask if you thought something was the matter with him. You wondered if your crush on him was that apparent.

“No,” you said defensively. “Just—I don’t know that I’d be any good on camera.”

“You’ve been in videos before,” Mina pointed out, tugging playfully on your belt loop. “You were in Bibimi’s Christmas special a couple years ago.”

“That was different,” you said, staring at her. “I was her evil coworker who sent her running into Tetsutetsu’s muscular arms. I didn’t have to get naked.”

“We can give you time to get prepared,” Yaoyorozu promised kindly. “If you wanted to um, clean up or trim—”

“It’s not that!” you said quickly, waving your arms. Your ears burned. “I just mean I would be shy.”

Bakugou watched you silently for another long moment, his full mouth pursed in thought. His gaze dragged down your body and then back up to your face, and you felt it like a physical touch.

“Then if you forgot you were on camera?” he asked, a rasp in his tone.

You blinked at him dumbly. “If I—forgot?”

“If I made you forget,” he said, flashing a sharp smirk. The arrogance looked so good on him, zinging through your veins like an electric current. Your cheeks and ears flared even hotter, until you thought you might actually be emitting smoke from them.

You tried to form words but seemed to have trouble shaping the proper ones with your tongue, making a series of choking noises before you managed. “There is no way you could—you’re not that good.”

Something hot flared to life behind Bakugou’s eyes, and his smirk curled even sharper. “We’ll see about that.”

“What if Bakugou helps you get over your nerves, and we just try it and see how you do.” Yaoyorozu prompted gently. “Is that something you would be willing to do? Of course we won’t pressure you.”

Your gaze jerked back to her as you startled. For just a second you’d sort of forgotten there was anyone in the room but Bakugou.

“I sort of doubt—but if you really need—I mean I could—try…” you fumbled out.

Yaoyorozu nodded gratefully, looking pleased again. “Alright, then let’s at least try it. Mina please find proper costuming and help get Y/N ready. I will draw up a short contract with the same terms we promise all our on camera talent for you to look over when you’re done.”

You nodded, a little dazed. Had you really just agreed to—?

But then Mina was laughing, grabbing you by the elbow and drawing you out of the room. She marched you towards the back of the studio building where she’d amassed a respectable wardrobe, racks upon racks of clothes. “Alright, this is going to be so fun! I love dressing new talent! It’s always fun to work out what’s going to work with your coloring and style on screen.”

The mention of you doing anything on screen had all the blood draining from your veins, but Mina didn’t seem to mind. She kept up a stream of happy, easy chatter as she pecked around in the racks like a chicken hunting a grasshopper. Eventually she emerged with a robe in a deep pink, slippery and silky and glistening faintly under the overheads.

“Okay so you’re supposed to be a loving couple celebrating your anniversary and looking for ways to spice things up,” she said. “So you’ll be waiting for him to come home, looking delicious in this little slip of a thing. He can unwrap you like a V-Day present!”

Her callback to the plot of the shoot suddenly made you realize there were way more things involved in the project than just being pawed at on screen—and you did not know any of Bibimi’s lines. How the hell were you supposed to deliver any kind of performance?

“Don’t worry about it, I assure you the gears are already churning in Momo’s big brain,” Mina said when you asked as much. She peeled you out of your sweater and jeans, and ushered you into the robe. Cheeks burning, you let her look you over to make sure you were properly groomed for the camera.

Then before you could get cold feet, she bundled you up and shepherded you back into the set room and set to work on you with her various pots of paint and ointments. She worked a couple things into your hair, applied something glossy and sticky to your mouth, and adjusted the fit of your robe to her liking until she pronounced you ready.

Yaoyorozu was already leaning over you by the time Mina released you, laying out a packet of sheets in front of you. She detailed the terms to you in the professional, clipped tone you’d heard her conduct business in before, and soon enough you were penning in your own name in a shaky hand. The strokes looked almost foreign on the page, and you felt a little more than lightheaded thinking about what you’d just signed yourself into.

“So—what am I supposed to do about Bibimi’s lines?” you asked, your voice coming out kind of dry and crackly.

“We’re going to improvise,” Yaoyorozu said. “Bakugou will guide you. Try to respond as best you can to what he says, along the framework of being a couple celebrating their anniversary. It’s most important to capture your intimacy, however, so we can always come back and reshoot any dialog as needed after. You can call him Katsuki, there are no aliases for this shoot.”

You nodded, feeling even more nervous now that all the prerequisites had been completed.

That left Komori waiting for you. She was apparently assuming the duties you’d abandoned by becoming the star of this absurd alternate dimension. She led you over to what had been meant to be Bibimi’s starting mark on the bed and helped you spread your pink robe out enticingly. You almost laughed as you helped her, feeling foolish and distinctly unsexy for the deliberateness of it all.

There was nothing less romantic than half a dozen other people in the room with you, cameras and hot lights trained on you like you were an escaped convict under a helicopter floodlight. You got the impression that it was going to be a monumental task to work up the nerve to even loosen the tie on your robe, nevermind remove it.

Except then Bakugou walked in.

He’d changed, sometime in the half hour or so Mina had had you in her clutches. He prowled into the room in a dark charcoal suit, the consummate businessman home from his generic businessman job.

He looked unfairly good in it too—the close cut of it highlighted how his broad shoulders slashed inwards into a trim waist, and his pants showcased the flex of a strong, hard thigh. He’d acquired a chunky wristwatch in a dark metal, and it glinted dully under the overhead lights.

He looked sleek and dangerous, even though you’d just seen him stomping around in sweatpants not thirty minutes prior. You felt your breath escape you in a whoosh, your heartbeat kicking up as he prowled closer.

“I’m home, angel,” he said, a smoky rasp curling on the end of his voice. Despite the pet name, he sounded enough like his usual self that you almost answered him in turn.

You vaguely remembered you were obliged to playact with him, and you summoned up your nerve. “Hi, Katsuki,” you said. You hoped your voice did not sound too shaky. “Happy Anniversary.”

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes dipped down to your robe, fastening to the spot where it gaped open suggestively over one thigh. Your skin buzzed like a hive of bees was trapped beneath it.

“This my present?” he asked, stalking closer. He snagged the tie of your robe in his long fingers, toying with it speculatively.

“It should be easy to open,” you joked, then almost cringed.

Sexy. You were supposed to be sexy, not goofy as hell. And what happened when he really did try to open it?

A small amount of panic crept up your spine again, seeping into your veins. You did not feel ready to be naked before all of the eyes in this room, nevermind the roving gaze of the internet. What had you been thinking, signing up for this?

Your hand came up defensively to tug the robe tie back out of Bakugou’s hand, only for it to be captured too. Bakugou tugged you up and to him, and your face broke out in another sweeping wave of flame as you felt the hard planes of him against you. He was so warm, and smelled so good up close and you could not even begin to know what to do or where to put your hands—

Before you could ask him what the heck he was doing, however, he brought your captured hand to his mouth. You almost leapt out of your skin when you felt the gentle press of his lips on the inside of your wrist, the careful flicker of a tongue. Those scarlet eyes slid over you knowingly, near enough that you could see tiny flecks of deep purple in them.

His other hand came up to take your chin, his thumb stroking over the side of your jaw. The feeling made you shiver slightly, and it must have been clearly visible because the corner of Bakugou's mouth lifted into a smirk against your wrist. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, every inch of your skin thrilling with the feeling of your longtime crush doing something this to you.

“Think I’m gonna enjoying opening you alright,” Bakugou intoned.

You struggled to remember what he was talking about, giving up almost immediately as his mouth trailed along the inside of your arm. It traced up and up and up, until he was hovering dangerously close to your face. His fingers tightened on your chin, tilting your face up to his.

And then he bent his head, and crushed his mouth to yours.

Immediately, everything else disappeared.

Kissing Bakugou was three thousand zillion times hotter than you could have ever even imagined. You’d sort of imagined that with an attitude like his, he would be all power and impatience. And the power was there, but leashed, somehow. His mouth was hot and shockingly sweet on yours, and his fingers cupped your face to his, holding you there like he planned to kiss you for hours yet.

Your head was spinning by the time he let your mouth free, and the dip of his blonde lashes as he looked you over was extraordinarily self-satisfied.

His hand on your chin went to your robe instead, pulling the collar wide so that he could lower his mouth inside instead, kissing over your throat. You seized fistfuls of his suit, clinging to him, as he mapped a hot path across your shoulder and collarbone, one of his hands coming up to up your chest.

You heard yourself let out a soft hiss as his thumb pressed over your nipple through the silky fabric. Bakugou sucked a careful bruise into the side of your neck as he did it again, letting out a barely audible snort when you jerked in his hold, unconsciously arching into his hand.

“So sensitive for me, angel,” he drawled as his other hand came up to carefully pinch your other nipple.

You heard yourself make a small, choked off noise like a whine, and you could feel Bakugou’s lips pull into an answering smirk against your throat. You didn’t think you had been quite this responsive to a partner before—but something about the careful, purposeful way he was touching you had your blood running quicker in your veins.

Bakugou’s thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles over your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to make you groan. He teased you again and again as his mouth traced higher on your neck.

Within minutes you were panting, a slow, syrupy pleasure dripping down into your core.

Bakugou tugged your robe wider, then bent his head. You felt the tickle of his hair against your collarbone, softer than you would have thought, as his mouth closed over the point of one nipple. The draw of his mouth had you arching up into him immediately, pleasure zinging through your veins.

“Oh my god,” you said, seizing a fistful of that blonde hair.

Bakugou’s tongue teased at the nipple, and you writhed in his hold. Then he did the same to your other one, and you thought you might die. He hadn’t even touched you yet and you already wanted to crawl out of your skin with impatience.

“Katsuki—please,” you heard yourself say, almost distantly. “Katsuki—oh!”

“Please what, angel?” he said into the skin of your chest, before laying his mouth back over your nipple and giving a sweet suck.

“Oh my god—please!” you said, stupidly. Not an answer to his question but you’d forgotten how to string words together, your brain-to-mouth connection running on autopilot.

“Gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart,” Bakugou said, and you heard the relish in it. Your face burned, and you yanked his hair a little more firmly. He just groaned, and then sucked you a little harder.

“Touch me! Please—Katsuki,” you panted out, hips flexing unconsciously with the pull of your nipple.

“Thought this was my gift, angel. I can’t enjoy it how I want?” he asked.

You considered his words muzzily, having no idea what he was talking about. Gift? What gift was he talking about?

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes flicked up to yours, and something in your expression must have told him you had no idea what he was on about. His mouth pulled up into a self-satisfied grin, and he leaned up to kiss you again.

You flattened yourself out against his chest, all but velcroing yourself to him. You wanted to feel every inch of that hard body against you, wanted to climb as far into him as you could. Something gratifyingly hard pressed against your stomach as you kissed him, and he grunted, locking you to him with a muscled arm across your back.

“Want me to touch you, angel?” he asked.

You nodded. A smile played across his lips.

“Get on the bed for me then, sweetheart.”

It took a minute for you to process but then you were scrambling to obey, scrabbling your way onto the bed, turning and watching as Bakugou stepped nearer.

He shed his jacket as he approached, yanking off his tie too and flinging it somewhere behind him. Then he crawled over you, his fingers seizing the ties of your robe as he did. He pulled it open gently, then yanked a little harder until the silk tie slid free.

His eyes picked over it speculatively, then flashed back up to you. A look of intent interest settled over his features.

“You ever been tied up before, angel?” he asked.

You shook your head, even as it swam with the implication. Your skin prickled, somehow growing even hotter. He didn’t mean to…?

“You gonna let me?” he asked.

You rather thought you would let him do anything he wanted with you. The question was barely out of his mouth before you were nodding hurriedly. A shocked laugh punched out of him, and he gathered up your wrists, scooting you backwards until they pressed against the headboard.

He looped the silk around your wrists, gathering it into a series of complicated knots. He moved with a purpose and precision, his movements sure and practiced. You tested the give of the ties when he sat back on his haunches, finding that they held firm, even when you put a little more muscle into it.

Bakugou’s gaze blazed over you, hot like coals. His eyes traced over your body, spread out under him now, your silk robe pooling at either side of you in a pink puddle.

He bent his head and kissed you again, until you were fuzzy with the feeling once more. Then he worked his way downwards, softly biting your shoulder, licking over one nipple, pressing deep kisses into your belly and then indent of your left hip.

A shock of pleasure raced through you when you realized where he was going with this, and you let out an involuntarily little gasp as he hooked your thighs over his broad shoulders.

“Katsuki,” you began, though you had no idea what you meant to follow it up with. Bakugou didn’t wait for you to finish, ducking his head and licking a hot stripe up the cleft of you.

Immediately you arched, thighs flexing under his hands. Your face heated when he laughed again, but any embarrassment was instantly forgotten when he licked over you again, slower and more deliberate this time.

“Oh my god,” you said again, biting off into a groan when his tongue dipped deeper between your folds, flicking up over your clit.

“Yeah, angel?” Bakugou asked, his voice a heady rasp. “You like that?” He layered another open mouthed kiss over you, slow and thorough, until you were arching up into his mouth again.

It would have been evident to anyone on earth how much you liked it from the noises you made, the way you kicked and squirmed with the movement of his mouth. He sucked your clit gently into his mouth, then laved over it firmly as he pressed his fingers to you, the pads of his index and middle slowly sinking into you.

Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head when he gave another slow suck, the feeling almost too much. His fingers pressed deeper into you, easily slipping in with how comically wet you were for him. The gentle suction of his mouth made everything a million times better, everything a million times worse, as he carefully curled his fingers within you. He seemed to immediately find a spot within you that felt like he was touching your clit from the other side too, and the feeling was immediately far too much.

“Holy shit,” you heard yourself say, cutting off into an honest to god whine when his tongue swirled around your clit, just as he teased a finger along you from the inside too. “Katsuki—oh! Katsuki please! Please oh my god oh my god.”

Bakugou’s ministrations grew a fraction firmer, and you heard him groan too as he kissed you messily.

“So fucking hot for me, sweetheart. So sweet,” he said, then sucked again, a tiny bit harder this time. His fingers stroked you from the inside, a firm, deliberate rhythm that had you turning your face and muffling a keen into the meat of your arm.

Your hips flexed against his face, wild and uncontrolled, wanting less, more, not enough, too much, oh my god—

“Katsuki!” you cried, as you suddenly hit the crest of your pleasure. Your wrists pulled against their bonds, and the feeling of helpless restraint suddenly made everything feel a thousand times more intense. Every single nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire, so that even the air of the room seemed too harsh on your skin. You screamed as you rode out your pleasure against Bakugou’s face.

He worked you through it diligently, licking and sucking until you collapsed back to the mattress, panting like you’d just run a marathon.

“Good, angel?” Bakugou asked.

You nodded breathlessly, turning your face to his when he crawled up your body to kiss you again. The taste of yourself on him was both embarrassing and thrilling, but Bakugou didn’t give you much leeway to consider it, kissing you into a stupid, pliant little puddle against the mattress.

You could feel him hard and hot against your hip as he did so, but he didn’t make any move to get inside you yet. Instead, his hands moved over you, slowly teasing you from satiation back into want. His fingers played with your nipples again, pinching them softly and rolling them. It felt like he'd rigged up some kind of wire, leading from your nipples right to your core, that lit the pilot flame of your interest again.

A couple minutes of diligent teasing, and easy, unhurried kisses had you wiggling under him again soon enough. It was only then, when you realized you were unconsciously rocking your hips against Bakugou’s, that he finally sat back to shuck off his shirt and pants.

He was so unfairly beautiful, bared in the bright light of the room. You’d known he was gorgeous, of course, but up close he was something else entirely. He was chiseled with thick muscle, his chest and arms hard and glowing faintly with perspiration. The light and the shadows of the room played over the divots of his muscles with a deliberate care, like he was a painting instead of a man, highlighting him in loving shades. A set of perfect abs trailed down into the hard jut of hip bones over his pelvis, and his cock was just as upsettingly gorgeous as the rest of him. It was thick and full and flush with his arousal, and he wasted no time crawling back between your thighs.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked. His voice had gone even more gravelly than usual, and it plucked at your core like a string.

“Please, Katsuki,” you said, your voice embarrassingly breathy. You couldn’t help yourself though, couldn’t be ashamed with the easy way your thighs fell apart for him. Your ankles hooked across his back, trying to pull him closer still.

He groaned and surged up over you to grab a condom off the nightstand. He quickly rolled it onto himself in one practiced movement, before immediately pressing himself into you.

He sank in mortifyingly easily, you already half out of your mind with want. He didn’t seem to mind, though—you heard the soft, sibilant hiss of his own pleasure as he filled you, and your robe tugged the skin of your shoulder as he fisted a hand in it, just beside your head.

“Been dying to fuck you, angel,” he said. “Thinking about how hot and tight and sweet you would be for me. Been thinking about it nonstop.”

You made a vague noise of agreement, moving your hips with his as he drew back and pressed inside of you again. The slide of him inside you was mind-numbingly good, the pressure against your stomach as he pressed back in almost sparking stars in your vision. The flex of his abs between your thighs as he found his pace was almost immediately too much for you, and you had to turn your face away. You tilted your face up to his, watching him as he watched you.

Bakugou seemed to read your expression easily, finding the angle and pace you liked incredibly quickly. He slid an arm under the small of your back to angle your hips up into him, yanking you up like you were nothing, and the show of easy strength had your toes flexing and curling against his back.

He kissed you again, catching the sounds of your pleasure in his mouth as he rocked into you. You moved against him, hips bucking, delirious with the feeling of him. Eventually he freed his arm from under you, pressing his thumb to your slit again with deadly precision.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned into his mouth, legs tightening on him as he played with your clit. The almost-too-gentle sensation of his thumb on your clit, coupled with the relentless drive of him inside you had your vision sparking and greying at the edges. His face swam in front of yours, and all of your limbs began to feel shivery, almost too weak to lift yourself into him the way you needed, to rock against him and find relief from the friction.

Bakugou continued to tease at you, carefully pinching and petting. His hips drove into you tirelessly, slapping the bottoms of your thighs, as you strained in your silk bonds, wanting to grab him, pull him even harder into you.

“Katsuki, please please please,” you heard yourself begging. You felt him smile against your mouth, tasted his reply more than heard it.

“You want me to let you cum, angel?” he asked, doing something with his fingers that made your breath catch in your lungs.

“Unhh, yes—please!” you cried, desperation coming over you in a white haze.

You had never—never—been so desperate for anything in your entire life. You didn’t know how Bakugou was doing it, why his touch felt like so much more than anything else you’d ever felt in your life. If he didn’t let you cum you were certain you were going to die, right here and right now.

“You gonna scream for me, sweetheart?” Bakugou asked, his voice raspier than you’d ever heard it. He grit the words out, like he too was on the edge of his own climax, barely staving it off.

“Anything, I will do anything,” you babbled senselessly. “Yes—going to scream for you—Katsuki!”

Bakugou’s gaze was hotter than you’d ever seen it, scarlet eyes clouded with pleasure, glowing like banked coals. “Then you can come for me, angel. Come on, sweetheart.”

“Oh!” you cried in answer, your feet planting themselves on the bed to jut your hips up hard. Bakugou’s thumb pressed hard against your clit, then, firm and merciless, and he fucked into you harder, his pace growing faster, furious.

Your second orgasm hit you like a truck, snapping your spine into alignment, locking all your limbs up as if in rigor mortis.

“Katsuki!” you wailed as you writhed against him, clenching and fluttering around him as you sobbed.

“Oh fuck,” you heard him say, and his hips stuttered. You realized he was coming too, fucking into you sloppily and disjointedly as he rode out his own pleasure. You arched and spasmed with him, clawing uselessly at the silk that bound you, twisting in blissful agony.

When you finally came back to yourself you found yourself slumped on the bed, Bakugou’s weight pinning you down into the mattress. His chest was slicked to yours with sweat, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of it against you as he caught his breath.

“That good, angel?” he asked, his voice heady with satisfaction.

You nodded, absently turning your face back up to his for a kiss. He granted it, kissing you almost possessively. He looked soft and rumpled, just the way you'd always liked him, and something in you purred with satisfaction at finally getting to have him like this for you.

Gradually, you became aware of other sounds in the room as you came down from your high. Quiet murmuring and the sounds of shuffling met your ears, the shutter click of a camera lens slicing through the atmosphere like a knife.

A sudden shock raced through you when you realized you and Bakugou were not alone—and you were on the set of a porn film, half a dozen eyes glued to you just over one of Bakugou’s thick shoulders.

A porn film. You had been shooting a porn film!

“And cut!” you heard the director’s voice ring out, like a bucket of water dumped over your head.

You tensed up beneath Bakugou, mind racing. Holy shit, he had actually managed to make you forget, exactly the way he'd promised.

You could tell Bakugou was thinking the same thing as he went to untie you, looking extremely satisfied with himself.

“Told you, angel,” he said, flashing something of a feral grin. You hated how good the self-conceit looked on him.

You went to draw your wrists back to yourself as he let them free. But Bakugou caught them instead, carefully massaging the skin there as if to make sure things were circulating properly. It was a startling note of unexpected care, as was the way he drew your robe closed around you again against the sudden chill of the room.

You found yourself saying wonderingly, “Wow. It was just that easy for you to switch partners like that.”

The thought somehow stung, even though you’d known going into this what you were getting yourself into. Somehow, the latent care and intention with which Bakugou had fucked you had addled your brain, made you think your connection had been something more. He had felt like he had feelings, beyond those mimed for the camera.

But here was evidence to the contrary, plain and simple. There literally was a camera.

Except then Bakugou looked down at you, a frown marring his pouty mouth. “Well yeah. ‘Course it was gonna be that easy when it’s you we’re talking about.”

You blinked at him, not understanding what he was saying. “Uh. When it’s—me?”

A crease came in between Bakugou’s blonde brows. “I said it, didn’t I? While we were fucking? Wanted to fuck you for a long time. Of course it was easy.”

Your stomach dropped, like a rug had just been yanked out from beneath you. “You—have? What? Since when?” you demanded.

Bakugou leveled you with an unimpressed stare. “Since the second time we met,” he said, and your mind flashed back to the way he’d seemed not to recognize you, that second time you'd spoken to him. “Once I realized you did work for UA and weren’t actually a little fucking creep trying to lure me into your car.”

You felt your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline. “Then—? For years? You cannot be serious. You never acted like we were anything other than coworkers!”

Bakugou scoffed. “We fucking were coworkers. And I told you, I don’t fuck coworkers off the clock.”

You blinked again, startled by the level of professionalism couched in the crassess of his statement. It made sense, you supposed, for a pornstar of Bakugou’s caliber to have put boundaries like that in place. Probably everyone in the world would just be dying for a shot at him.

“Wow,” you said, almost to yourself. You didn’t know what to do with this new information, wondered how it was going to be possible to behave professionally with Bakugou at all going forward. It was probably obvious to him how big your crush on him was, given that he’d known all along he could make you forget you were on camera. Given the way you reacted to him embarrassingly easily.

Except then Bakugou leaned forward, putting his face startlingly close to yours. “Emphasis on were, since this is my last shoot,” he said.

You stared at him, wondering if you were interpreting the implication correctly. There was no way he meant—?

“Uhhhh, meaning what, exactly?” you prompted, heart beating just a little bit quicker despite yourself.

Bakugou’s mouth turned up into a gorgeous smirk, and he ducked his head even closer, voice going softer.

“Meaning you’re going to get dressed and I’m going to take us to get something to eat,” he said, fingers playing at the edge of your robe. “And then you’re going to give me that ride home in your car after all. And we are going to do this all over again.”

Flames erupted across your face, sweeping across your cheeks. And you were up out of the bed before you even realized what you were doing, catching yourself on the bedside table as you stumbled.

Bakugou’s laugh chased out of the set room as you raced towards the wardrobe again. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, this time.

Not when your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest. You smothered a smile as you ran down the hallway.

Much like Bakugou had just done to you—it looked like your hopes and dreams were finally lining themselves up and filling themselves in.

[lambilegs]

your best friends older sister!sevika fanfic had me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. love the way you write her as a mean teasing flirt ☺️ may i suggest roommate!sevika who does everything she can to get reader worked up such as bringing home girls to purposefully fuck them loud as fuck to make reader jealous 🙂‍↕️ hehe

roommate!sevika headcanons

note to anon: OMGGGG thank you so much bae!! and right? I feel like if she found someone who got on her nerves, she'd enjoy being the rudest flirt alive, hehe. ALSO, YES, I LOVE THIS IDEA SOOOO MUCH. took me a while to write it out, but I hope you enjoy!! <33 contains: sfw and nsfw content (minors + ageless blogs dni), reader receiving oral and strap, porn-watching, kinda voyeuristic (reader gets horny from sevika having sex with other girls), throat-grabbing, smoking, reader's body is referred to with the terms "pussy," "g-spot" and "clit"

roommate!sevika who doesn't really bother talking to you at first, just keeping to herself. she's not a fan of sharing her living space with people, but money's tight, and this is what she can afford right now. she's not interested in friendship, or some sort of everlasting bond to form between the two of you. she just wants to live in amicable peace, and have her space to herself.

and so, the two of you barely talk. you try, at first, but it becomes clear three days in that she's utterly uninterested. which, you can't lie, is a pretty huge disappointment, considering that the prospect of living with an incredibly hot and stoic butch was one that had you thrilled initially. but, unfortunately, she seems anything but truly interested in any sort of connection with you.

roommate!sevika who remains in her bedroom most of the time, working on one contraption or the other, or watching videos on her laptop.

or gaming. because, yes, she games, and she does try her best to keep quiet, she really does. but, the idiots she plays with have her occasionally shouting, cursing loudly as they cause her team to lose yet again.

every now and then, she'll hang out in the living room, watching TV, but that's usually reserved to when you're not home, or locked up in your own bedroom. when you come out to cook in the kitchen, or sit on the love seat so that you can fold laundry, she'll usually linger for a few minutes, carefully observing, before standing up to head back to her bedroom.

it's not like she hates you or anything. you're pretty okay -- nice to her and not sloppy and disgusting like some of the other roommates she's had before. you even share the food you cook with her, and have always been cooperative about splitting chores with her. so, in sevika's books, you're not a person who she's keen on disliking, and she actually feels pretty damn lucky for having found your ad.

roommate!sevika who does nothing to quell the sexual frustration you've had for months due to the serious dry spell that's been plaguing you. walls are thin, and you can hear the loud ass girl she's brought home, moaning and whining as sevika's bed frame rocks against the wall. every now and then, her noises are met with sevika's hushed grunts and filthy words of, "tell me, who's a good girl?"

you twist and turn in bed, rolling over to glare at your phone. it's 2:03AM -- how does she still have the energy to be fucking at this time? you're exhausted, irritated, and insanely horny from what you're hearing. because horribly enough, this girl doesn't sound like she's faking -- no, she's truly enjoying herself. sevika is just that good of a lay, it seems. and that piece of knowledge has your pussy beginning to dampen, soaking through your panties.

if you shut your eyes, and drift into the hazy world of dream land, you can pretend that it's you and her making those noises. that she's the one fucking you right now. god, just the thought of that notion has your clit aching.

but, it also has you feeling a strike of insecurity. because the truth is, that probably won't be you and sevika anytime soon. she doesn't even give you the time of day. you don't know what it is you've done to her, but she avoids you like the plague, never returning any of your offers of kindness or bonding. and it's beginning to sting really bad. if she can canoodle with a stranger (and, yeah, you're painfully aware it's a stranger, since her text said, "Hey. I met a girl at the bar tonight, is it okay if I bring her over?") well enough to have sex with her that very night, why can she barely spare you attention as her roommate?

the thought is a cold wash over your horniness, and all it leaves is a bitter taste on your tongue.

roommate!sevika who's giving you the most bewildered stare as you shake the soaked thong of the girl she brought home last night, yelling about how you're convinced that said girl stole one of your underwear after this one got ruined.

"how would you even know that?" sevika snickers, eyeing you in disbelief. "are you that anal?"

"my drawer was half open, sevika! and I never leave it like that because I'd knock into it on my way in otherwise!" you snap, your eyes wide and glossy with anger. sevika's honestly a bit unnerved by the sight -- she's never seen you this pissed, but jesus, she thought it'd take more than a singular, flimsy piece of fabric to get you to this state.

"it's just one pair," she deadpans. "I'm sorry serena -- or, selena, I don't know -- took it, but it's not that big of a big deal."

"maybe not for you, but it is for me! listen, I don't care if you don't know the names of the girls you bring here, or anything about them -- but, just make sure they're not a thieving dumbass, okay? is that enough for you?"

sevika's jaw shifts, irritation beginning to sizzle in her from the condescension layering your words. you're talking to her like she's a fucking child, tone taking on a faux sense of guidance.

"okay, listen, I'm sorry she took your underwear, okay? I'll buy you a new pair if you're that bent out of shape over it. but, you don't need to be such a piss baby about it."

your head flinches back, eyes sharpening in clear anger. sevika feels a twinge of guilt. she knows she fucked up, since ensuring the girl from last night didn't do anything out of line was her responsibility. but, your anger has her own defenses kicking in automatically, and she's equal measures embarrassed and angered at being spoken to this way.

"I have every right to be pissed if you're gonna be stupid about the people you bring in our apartment."

well, that manages to snap her out of it. "because I could just magically anticipate that she'd steal your shit? I get it, she did something shitty, but I couldn't have known that. I've got lots of skills, but that's not one of them."

you scoff, the noise loud and unabashed. "oh, trust me, you made a great display of your skills last night. not that you seem to fucking spare any of that attention to someone unless you're gonna get a good lay out of it."

sevika immediately freezes at that, her brain running into overdrive. your tone has shifted into something biting, but lowered with what seems like -- frustration? frustration not just at that girl, but at sevika herself. and if you're frustrated about sevika possessing an attentiveness that she spares only to certain people, then that must mean--

sevika snickers softly. oh, yeah, you've definitely given her an opening in this argument. "what, you jealous?"

immediately, you're spluttering, broken words and half-gasps flinging from your mouth, sentences barely strung together. it only heightens sevika's newfound delight in having found something to hold above your head.

"you are, aren't you? what, haven't had a good fuck lately? need me to get one of my boys to come over and take care of you?"

sevika can see the way you work your teeth behind your pursed lips, and it only causes her flame of amusement to burn brighter.

"first of all, I'm not fucking pitiful, okay? I can handle getting fucked. second of all, I'm not into guys, something you'd know if you even spoke to me for two fucking seconds."

sevika's eyes widen at that. this interaction definitely had her suspecting it, but to hear you confirm it only sends another wave of satisfaction, mingled with surprise, through her. so, you're gay and bitter over having no attention, and specifically not hers? you're making it too easy.

"so, what, you're into me?" she asks, her voice twisted with snark. "been wanting me this whole time? mad I'm not giving you attention?"

she knows it's risky to be goading her own roommate like this, flirting and teasing. but, she can't help it -- not when your mouth is finally shut and she knows she has something on you.

she stalks up to you slowly, using her height to her advantage as she dips her head down, staring at you with a piercing smirk. "well?"

your eyes are wide, blinking rapidly like a pretty little butterfly. they flicker down to her mouth, and sevika feels something stir in her gut at the sight. she's always been neutral about you, but there's something undeniably attractive about seeing you like this -- seething, wanting, in need of someone to take care of you. as her gaze roves over your features, she finds herself struck for the first time that you're, frankly, pretty good-looking.

but, then, you draw in a sharp breath, and sevika reels back in surprise when you hiss, "no."

she's left baffled as you whirl on your heel, stomping to your room, muttering out, "perverted jackass."

sevika chuckles at that. perverted jackass, huh?

roommate!sevika whose noises are so bothersome that you cover your ears, gritting your teeth at the rattling-headboard noises that are running through the apartment for the fifth fucking time in these past two weeks. how sevika manages to get this many girls in her bed is beyond your human capabilities. all you know is that it was never this often in the past. no, this -- this is fucking personal. you can feel it in the way she shoots you a haughty smirk the next morning, and how she encourages the people she's with to moan louder, move back faster. it's gotten to the point where you can even hear the fucking skin smacks.

it makes you utterly enraged. and impossibly soaked. but, for your own sense of justice and determination, you refuse to get off to the noises. in fact, everytime she continues her habit of asking you politely if she can bring someone over, you ensure to respond in as chipper a tone as possible. you don't want her thinking she's having an impact on you. you want to convey the self-image of being unbothered, unfazed and completely okay with every little dig she's attempting with you.

what makes you snap is when you're on your way to work one morning, and from where she's seated on the couch, lip bitten in frustration as she does a crossword puzzle like a fucking nerd, she says, "enjoyed the show last night? I can pick someone else up tonight. thought I'd ask in case you need to charge your vibrator in advance."

stay calm. stay calm. don't attack her. don't sit on her face.

"well," you drawl with a forced smile, "you'd like that, wouldn't you? so, your next girl can steal it for herself."

she immediately bursts into a loud round of laughter, her gap revealing itself unabashedly. your eyes linger on it, struck with a sudden bolt of fondness. it's one part of her that is unarguably adorable.

you turn away before she can catch you, heading to the kettle to pour the boiling water into your tumblr.

"wait, no," sevika calls out from the couch, eyes still fixed on the newspaper. "the counter."

your eyes curiously travel to the wooden surface, gulping in surprise when you see a fresh pot already made. you know sevika always drinks coffee before her shift at the mechanic's, but that's usually just a single cup. never an entire pot like this. "did you, uh, make this for me?"

"don't flatter yourself. just take some."

her voice is a grunt and no-nonsense, not allowing for her meaning to be minced whatsoever. she wants you taking the coffee, and that's that.

with a bitten smile, you pour it into your tumblr, the pleasant scent of it wafting through your nostrils. it's the brand you always use, the one you've offered to sevika before that she's never actually taken you up on. at least until now.

she's at least half-redeemed to you until she says, "just needed some energy after last night, you know? wait, what am I saying? you were listening, won't you?"

your skin stretches over your knuckles as you tightly grip the doorknob.

jackass.

roommate!sevika who you try to get back at by watching obscenely loud porn. sometimes, you touch yourself to it, while other times, you just let it play in the background while folding your laundry, or wiping the dust from your furniture. you know it's immature as fuck, and will probably never equate to the personal touch of her being the one to incite those noises when trying to piss you off. but, hey, if it keeps her up at night and pisses her off, you're more than content. and judging from the glares she silently shoots you in the morning, you can tell you're succeeding.

at least, until one day, she leans in from behind when you're making eggs, her mouth lowered to your ear, and mutters, "c'mon, you're easy on the eyes. can't be so hard to find someone that you resort to porn, right?"

your nostrils flare, nearly slamming down the pan on the stove. "oh, fuck off."

"don't you mean 'fuck me'?"

your mouth cracks into an almost-smile. it's one thing to wanna fuck sevika, it's a whole other thing to have your stomach tighten up from how funny she is. makes it all the harder to deal with your current predicament. "no, I mean 'fuck you,' actually -- thanks for helping with that clarification."

"anytime," she huffs in amusement, lightly smacking your shoulder, which sends you nearly tumbling from her strength.

you glare at her back as she leaves. god, it's a good back. you hate that she has a good back.

roommate!sevika who's almost... thankful for this situation? because paying more attention to you, being in your way more often, ends up revealing to her that she was, admittedly, a damn fool for not having taken notice of you earlier.

because you're smart. like, wicked smart. what she suspects is mostly out of spite, you've started leaning over her shoulder, your scent flooding her senses as you spoil the answers to her crossword puzzles. at first, she rolled her eyes, grumbling that she would've gotten it without your help. but, now, she anticipates your stupid antics before you can even think about disrupting her mood with it. that translates to her raising the newspaper to you right as you meet her in the kitchen, an action which you first met with a disapproving glare.

but, in a matter of days, you're sitting right next to her, a pencil in hand, the two of you debating over answers together and groaning in frustration whenever you get something wrong.

when you bump her arm, whining, "c'mon, I told you it was wrong!" she can feel her face heat up like some fucking teenager.

and when you roll your eyes when her answer ends up being the right on, it only eggs her on, the motion usually followed with her murmuring, "sorry, what was that again?"

whenever you two finish, she always says, "thanks for ruining it," to which you singsong, "anytime, sevika."

and she hates to admit it, but you're funny, too. there've been several times where she's actually been rendered silent from just how good a comeback of yours was, or where you said something that caught her so off guard she nearly laughed in a moment where she was just annoyed.

and fuck her, you're so fine. so goddamn fine.

a notion that seizes at her when you come out of your bedroom one evening, dressed from head to toe in clothes she certainly has never seen you in before. clothes you'd surely never wear to work or when lounging at home.

she licks her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling very, very dry. "what-- where are you--?"

"putting myself out there." you shrug, idly stroking a palm along your head, smoothing your hair. "I mean, it always works for you. and, you're right, porn can only do so much. I think it's time for me to, you know, actually try to get with someone."

sevika's jaw clenches. like the fuck you will. "no."

"what do you mean 'no'?" you scoff, swinging your bag over your shoulder. "I can do whatever I want."

"well, I'm not letting you do this," she snaps, standing from her seat on the couch and rushing to block you from the door.

"why not?"

"because I--" she cuts herself off, teeth pressing in together as her mind is shaken with an influx of thoughts. because what can she even say? it's not just about wanting to fuck, not anymore. she's actually interested now. so interested that it's been weeks since she last brought a girl over. no point in doing so if her mind is filled with thoughts of you touching yourself to the noises, anyways.

you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. "yes?"

she leans in closer, propping a hand next to where your shoulders rest along the door. there's an inexplicable urge tugging her forwards to you, and she doesn't have it in her to resist it. "because I," she rasps, her voice low and scratchy, "I want you safe."

jesus, is she an idiot?

your face is deadpan, not a twitch of expression in sight. "you do it all the time. besides, how will I learn unless I'm out there, doing it?" after a beat skips between you two, you add, "unless you wanna come with?"

sevika snorts. "you really think I'm gonna watch you fuck about with some other people who don't deserve you?"

you brace your head against the plane of the door, eyes tracing over her face, making sevika's skin tingle in response. "then, who does?" you mutter quietly.

your tone is no longer flat. it's raised in pitch a bit, almost sounding hopeful. sevika swallows hard, her own body beginning to tense in anticipation. she latches onto that audible sign, using it to propel her forward until her lips are ghosting yours.

"me, you idiot."

and with that, she cups your face, drawing you into a soft kiss, your chapstick-smeared lips thick and slippery against hers.

roommate!sevika who makes you come so many times that night that you lose track. first with her head between your thighs, mouthing at your clit, fingers pumping into your hole as she spreads you loose and open. her lips wrap around the stiffened bud, drawing it in in tight, sharp sucks, the pressure of the movements making your legs tremble around her head, pressing into her ears without relent.

"damn, you trying to suffocate me?" she murmurs against your clit, the vibrations of her words making you whimper.

"it's what you deserve," you chuckle once the fog has cleared a bit, the noise dissolving into a whine when her tongue darts out, flapping over your clit with hard presses up and down, up and down.

"you're right," she hums, pressing a soft kiss to the spot just as her fingers curl up and begin stroking your g-spot, making streams of pleasure pulse from your pussy into your tummy, which tightens in anticipation. "I've been a dick to you, huh? I'll make it up to you tonight."

and make it up she does, her strap plunging into you and stretching your hole into a dull ache as her strong fingers hook onto her headboard, raising herself over you as your hips smack together. the mix of lube and your juices send filthy little squelches flowing through the room, and the noise only adds to the whirlwind of pleasure she's throwing you into without pause.

when she kisses you hard, making you whine as her fingers wrap around your throat and her tongue shoves into you, you can't resist quipping through your moans, "gotta say -- those girls had a point."

she chuckles against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. "and I was going easy on them. just wait till I'm done with you."

roommate!sevika who wraps her arm around you when smoking her cigarette afterwards. after lying together with nothing but some faded music playing in the background for a few minutes, she presses a tentative, slow kiss to your head, muttering, "I wish I had started talking to you earlier on."

you blink in surprise from the words, the tenderness of the moment sending a flood of emotions through you. you don't want to sound needy, but now that the topic has been brought up, a part of you aches for reassurance, wishing for the hollow part of you her initial avoidance had bore to be filled. "was it because I seemed uninteresting, or...?"

"no, no," she immediately cuts in, her voice hard. "I just wasn't interested in bonding with any roommate. never have been." her nails gently skim along your arm, and her voice lowers before confessing, "I thought you were sweet, though."

that sends satisfaction pumping through you, and you need to purse your lips together to halt a wide smile from breaking over your face. "yeah?"

"yeah, until you started being a little fucking menace," she whispers with a grin, her hand snaking down to squeeze your ass, a motion which nearly sends you moaning.

"hey, you started it with your panty-stealing girl."

"my panty-stealing girl?" she asks incredulously, her chin pointing down to shoot you a wide-eyed look. "you think I'm gonna call anyone mine except you now?"

feeling suddenly bashful from the bold declaration, you nuzzle into her neck, your face heating up. "I don't know."

"huh, you know, you're cute like this. docile, quiet--"

"oh, fuck off."

she laughs, lightly pinching your arm, which sends you squealing. "eh, I knew it only could've lasted so long."

"like you'd have it any other way."

she takes a drag, the corner of her lips curling up. "got a point there."

no sentences and/or parts of my writing are allowed to be reposted or reused without explicit permission or credits given.

[moonriizing]

urs | p.sh (18+)

You weren't supposed to want more, but you did. What started as a casual fling became more complicated when you found yourself caught between your desire and the reality that Park Sunghoon's heart belonged to someone else.

Genre: college au, situationship, smut Pairing: Park Sunghoon x afab!reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), NOT PROOFREAD. I'll come back to do that when I can lol. Notes: 10k words. Listening to urs by NIKI. My first Sunghoon fic and it's written on a whim! lol. I wrote this instead of working on my overdue wip lol. I hope you like it! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally nor claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol, that is me. xoxo, cal.

Enjoy~

You first met Park Sunghoon at a frat party you had no real interest in attending. It was the first night of the semester, the music was good, the drinks were flowing, and the energy was exactly what you needed. It was the kind of night that made you feel young and invincible, where bad decisions were just part of the fun. And tonight, you were on a mission: hook up with a hot guy.

It was a promiscuous mission, you knew that. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t that kind of girl because you were! But you weren’t the reckless, messy type. No, you were the smart kind of promiscuous. The kind who could have fun without losing control. You were practical about it—always sober enough to make sound decisions, always keeping your boundaries clear. Simply put, you were the best type of promiscuous.

As a college girl with ambitions, you couldn’t afford to get tangled in romance and all that commitment nonsense. Too much work. But you had needs, and fulfilling them meant nights like this—scanning the crowd for a guy who could tickle your fancy, no strings attached.

That was how you spotted him.

Tall, handsome, but oddly out of place. While the rest of the party thrived on the chaos, he stood by himself in a corner. He had a cup in his hand, but it wasn’t like he was enjoying it. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else—his posture slouched just enough to suggest he wasn’t a part of this. He had that bored, almost irritable look on his face, the kind that made you wonder if he was only here because someone dragged him along.

You were not the type to hesitate, so you didn’t. You’d done this enough times to know exactly what you were after, and right now? You were after him.

“Is this your first frat party, or are you just too cool for it?” you asked, leaning in just enough to get his attention.

He glanced at you, his eyes flicking over your face for a second before landing on your lips, then back up to your eyes. Up close, he was even more good-looking—long lashes, sharp features, lips that curled just slightly at the corners like he was already amused by you, and a couple of beauty marks on his face that made him even more striking.

He was definitely your type.

“You look like you’d rather be anywhere else,” you added, taking a sip of your drink, not breaking eye contact.

“That obvious?” he asked, his voice low, almost melodic.

You smirked, liking the way his voice was as perfect as his looks. “You look miserable,” you pointed out, still grinning.

He chuckled lightly, amused but not exactly thrilled. “What about you? Having fun?”

You shrugged. “I wasn’t. But right now, I think I might be…” You let your gaze wander, deliberately slow, from his face to the exposed skin of his chest where a few buttons were undone.

Sunghoon smirked, his gaze trailing over you in a way that was appreciative without being too obvious. “Well, that makes two of us,” he replied suggestively.

He flirted right back!

“I’m Sunghoon,” he said, offering his hand for a shake. You took it and gave him your name.

Your eyes locked with his—now more curious, sizing him up. For a few seconds, it was just the two of you staring each other down, trying to gauge each other’s thoughts with your hands still joined. Then you saw a flicker in his eyes that made you come to an agreement with your own intuition.

You tilted your head, eyes still locked with his. “Do you wanna have sex with me?”

His eyes widened slightly, his brows lifting in surprise—visibly caught off guard by your suggestion. His grip on your hand loosened, though he didn’t let go completely. You kept your gaze steady, showing no hesitation and letting him know you were serious. A few seconds of silence passed where you almost thought he’d say no, but then he exhaled a soft laugh.

“Are you always this forward?” he asked, amused now.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Only when I see someone I like.”

He tilted his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you like me?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.”

With that, his smirk widened, and before you could second-guess yourself, he set his cup down. “My place or yours?”

And just like that, you were out of the party and heading to whatever the hell came next. No strings, no pressure. Just the way you liked it.

You didn’t know it then, but that was when the tsunami that would come crashing in began to take shape.

You didn’t mean for it to happen again. It was supposed to be a one-time thing—fun, uncomplicated. But he was phenomenal, so it happened a second time. And a third. And eventually, you just lost count.

Maybe it was because, other than the fact that he was really good at it, he was also easy to be around. He wasn’t like the others—the ones who got clingy after a night or acted like they were doing you a favor by sleeping with you. Sunghoon was different. He never overstayed his welcome, never asked for more than you were willing to give, but he wasn’t distant either. If anything, he was… nice.

Not in a fake, trying-too-hard way. Just nice. Made you feel comfortable, always made sure you finished before he did, and never left without saying something witty that made you roll your eyes. He had this way of being detached but not cold, like he had mastered the art of keeping things casual without being an asshole.

“You know,” you mused, sprawled across his bed, still catching your breath, “my first impression of you was that you were boring and miserable. Turns out you know how to make a girl have fun.”

Standing by his closet, Sunghoon threw you an amused glance as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head. “Yeah? I aim to please.”

You smirked. “That sounds like something a guy who thinks he’s good in bed would say.”

He let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair before turning to you, looking almost too put-together for someone who had just spent an hour between your legs. “And? Am I not?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, pretending to consider it. “Hmm. You’re alright.”

He scoffed, tossing a pillow at you, which you barely dodged. “You’re a bad liar.���

You grinned, stretching lazily. “Well, I can’t have you getting a big head, can I?”

Sunghoon shook his head, his lips curling into that infuriatingly charming smirk. “Too late for that.”

It was easy. Too easy. Maybe that’s why you let it keep happening.

Behind closed doors, there was no restraint. It didn’t matter if it was your place or his—once the door was closed, your hands were on his neck, his lips found your skin, and clothes barely made it past the foyer before being discarded.

Sunghoon was incredible in bed. He was controlled, precise, yet somehow still desperate when he kissed you, when he pressed you against the mattress, when he groaned your name like it was the only thing keeping him from spiraling. And you? You had mastered the art of making him unravel.

You knew exactly what made him weak, how to turn his composure into incoherence, how to make him grip your waist a little harder or breathe your name in a way that made your stomach flip. It was exhilarating, effortless—two people who just fit perfectly when it came to this.

But outside? You were mere acquaintances.

A nod in the hallway. A fleeting smile across the quad. If you happened to pass each other at a party, he’d tip his cup in your direction, and you’d lift a brow in acknowledgment. No one knew. No one suspected a thing. And you liked it better that way. You were both civil and could control your urges.

Except for when you couldn’t.

Like now.

You were leaving class when Sunghoon caught your wrist, pulling you into an empty lecture hall.

“What—”

He kissed you before you could finish, his hands already gripping your hips, pressing you against the nearest desk. The kiss was hot, urgent, like he had been holding back all day.

“Wow, I think you missed me a little,” you teased when he finally pulled away, breathless.

Sunghoon scoffed, but his fingers traced the sleeve of your dress like he wasn’t done with you yet. “You should wear this more often.”

You smirked. “What? Hoon, you did not pull me in here just because I’m wearing a dress.”

“It’s a really nice dress,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you again.

You kissed him back, snaking your arms around his neck. His hand slipped under your dress, squeezing your thighs firmly. When the familiar warmth started creeping up your chest, you held his hand to stop him.

“This is not a good idea,” you told him, smiling at the puppy-like look on his face.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head like he regretted his own impulse. But he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in again, his lips brushing yours like he couldn’t help himself.

And then you heard the sound of voices just outside the door.

In an instant, Sunghoon stepped back, running a hand through his hair like nothing had happened. You casually adjusted your dress. When the door creaked open, and a couple of students poked their heads in, you and Sunghoon were already on opposite sides of the room.

“Is this Professor Smith’s class?” one of them asked just as you spotted the same name written on the board in front.

“It is,” you said smoothly, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you strode past Sunghoon without so much as a glance.

Outside, in the open air, you felt his presence behind you, his steps easy and unhurried. As you reached the main path to the quad, he finally passed you, his shoulder brushing yours just slightly.

“See you around,” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

You smirked, not looking back. “See you around.”

But even with all of that, you could tell he was drawing a line between you. He didn’t have to say it. You could see it in the way he never texted first, the way he kissed you like he meant it but pulled away too quickly after. The way he made you laugh but never let the moment linger too long.

And maybe you should have done the same.

You didn’t mean to fall for him. You really didn’t. But it was hard not to when, in between the sneaking around and the mind-blowing sex, Sunghoon was just... Sunghoon. Nice and thoughtful in a way that made it almost impossible to keep things casual.

Like when the lightbulb in your room went out, and he arrived at your place with a new one, climbed on a chair, and replaced it himself.

“I was gonna do that, you know,” you said, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall, watching him screw the new bulb into place. “I’m just a little busy these days.”

He climbed down, dusting his hands off. “Yeah, but can you even reach that high?”

You rolled your eyes, but when he patted your head like you were some kid, you didn’t swat his hand away. Instead, you found yourself watching him as he moved around your space so easily.

Or the way he always refilled your bedside tumbler before he left your place. You didn’t even notice it at first, but one morning, you woke up, throat dry, and reached for it instinctively—only to realize it was full. Ice-cold. Like he had just topped it off before slipping out.

And then there was the night you were cramming for an exam, drowning in highlighter ink and frustration, when your door swung open, and Sunghoon walked in like he owned the place.

“I’m about to become your favorite person in the world,” he announced, dropping a thick stack of papers on your desk.

You blinked up at him. “What is this?”

“My old notes,” he said, ruffling your hair before plopping onto your bed like he had all the time in the world. “They’re neat. Better than whatever middle school doodles you have going on.”

You flipped through them, and he wasn’t lying—his notes were immaculate. Organized, highlighted, complete with diagrams. You stared at them, then at him, sprawled out on your bed like he had no idea what he’d just done.

“You didn’t strike me as a guy who took his studies seriously,” you teased, although you didn’t really think that way about him.

Sunghoon smirked, turning his head to look at you. “Why? Did you think the only thing I knew how to do was make your legs shake?”

You rolled your eyes, but it didn’t stop the warmth creeping up your chest. “Be real, Hoon. You’re not that good.”

“Liar liar, pants on fire,” he lilted, his eyes shifting back to his phone.

You fell for him because hookups weren’t supposed to be this thoughtful. Hookups weren’t supposed to linger after sex to fix your lightbulb or make sure you stayed hydrated. They weren’t supposed to look after you in ways so small, so casual, that you almost missed them.

You caught yourself wondering. Did he care about you more than just a hookup? Or worse—did you want him to?

You were at a café with your friends when his name came up. 

It started casually enough—half-listening to the conversation while stirring the melting ice in your drink, until one of them, Lily, suddenly said, “Oh, by the way, I saw Sunghoon at your apartment complex the other day. Didn’t know you guys were neighbors.”

Your hand stilled, heartbeat picking up pace at the sudden mention of his name. You blinked once, twice, before mustering up an easy shrug. “Huh. Neither did I.”

Lily laughed, oblivious. “Right? He was coming out of your building. I was gonna say hi, but he looked like he was in a hurry.”

Across the table, Tammy tilted her head. “Maybe he was visiting someone? From what I know, he lives with Jake in a different neighborhood.”

“Maybe,” Lily mused, sipping her drink. Then, as if the thought just occurred to her, she added, “Oh! You and Jenna are neighbors, right?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know any Jenna.”

“Jenna! The girl who won the poll for prettiest student last year!” she explained, her expression turning conspiratorial. “She’s Sunghoon’s ex.”

Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach.

Lily went on, oblivious. “Guess he’s still hoping she’ll take him back.”

The words landed like a slap. You almost asked her to repeat herself, but the way Tammy nodded in understanding told you that you heard right.

“Yeah,” Tammy said. “They were together for two years. I heard he was really sad when they broke up.”

Lily clicked her tongue. “Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they did get back together. They were that couple, you know?”

That couple. The ones who belonged together. The ones who had history, real history—not just stolen moments behind closed doors.

You swallowed, forcing a small smirk. “Didn’t know you guys were keeping up with Sunghoon’s love life like this.”

Lily nodded. “Jenna and I used to hang out when I was still in the council.”

Then she started rambling about their history, how Jenna broke Sunghoon’s heart, how he never really moved on. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but your mind was stuck on every moment you spent with him. The way he pulled you closer in his sleep, how he never let you walk home alone, the way he looked at you sometimes—like maybe you were something more special to him.

But you weren’t. You weren’t the one he wanted. You never were. And just like that, the guessing game was over.

He didn’t want you like you wanted him. You were genuinely just a fling.

Still, you smiled, made some joke that had your friends laughing, and sipped your drink like nothing was wrong. Like your stomach hadn’t just dropped to the floor.

Later, when you saw Sunghoon again—when he let himself into your apartment with that lazy smirk, hands already reaching for you—you didn’t hesitate. You let him touch you, let him kiss you like nothing had changed.

Because for him, nothing had.

And if he didn’t know the difference or couldn’t see the shift, then you sure as hell weren’t going to show him.

Does it make sense to want your ex back and exclusively sleep with someone else? NO.

It was stupid. Sunghoon was stupid. That was what you told yourself every time the thought crossed your mind—every time you caught yourself comparing.

You never voiced it out loud, though. Not to your friends, because Sunghoon was popular, and they’d pry if they knew you were sleeping with him. Not to him, for obvious reasons. And mainly because you had pride. You were the one who said you wouldn’t get attached—the one who laughed at girls who caught feelings for a fling.

But knowing better didn’t stop the thoughts from creeping in.

His ex was his senior, a fine arts major. Pretty. Smart. Talented. One of those girls who just had it. The kind people didn’t get over easily. You told yourself it didn’t matter. If he wanted her back, that was his problem, not yours. It wasn’t like you and Sunghoon were anything.

And so the days with him continued to be easy and light.

You spent more time together, and the more you did, the more you noticed his quirks—his own brand of annoying charm. Like how he always picked up your keys instead of his whenever he left your apartment, or how he liked to roll his sleeves and ruffle his hair absentmindedly.

One evening, lying side by side on your bed, you scrolled through your texts, absentmindedly opening your chat with him. A dozen images filled the screen, almost all of them mirror selfies. Some in elevators, some in his room, one even in a convenience store.

“You like yourself a little too much, don’t you?” you mused, tilting your phone so he could see.

Sunghoon barely glanced at it. “What?”

“These,” you said, scrolling through. “Almost every picture you send me is just you.”

He smirked, resting his head on his arm. “What, you don’t like them?”

You huffed. “You’re hot and you know it, is that it?”

He let out a breathy laugh, rolling onto his side to face you. The glint in his eyes was naughty and suggestive. His next words, even more so: “Would you rather I send you something else?”

He was looking at you like he knew exactly what he was doing, but you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand.

“Maybe,” you said, feigning deep thought. “Like a cat picture. Or, I don’t know, an interesting rock.”

Sunghoon snorted. “An interesting rock?”

“I like rocks.”

“You’re weird.”

“And you’re a narcissist.”

He only grinned, as if he didn’t mind the label. You shook your head, rolling onto your stomach, but your lips twitched when your phone vibrated a second later.

A picture. Of a rock.

You bit back a smile, and Sunghoon, watching you, caught it anyway.

“What?” he asked, amused.

“Nothing,” you said, tossing your phone aside.

You had never once felt insecure about what you had with Sunghoon, but after what you heard from your friends, you started to notice the little things. It almost seemed like outside the four walls of your apartments, you were nothing to each other.

You used to think he was just a lazy texter. His replies were always short, sometimes delayed, sometimes just emojis. But knowing what you knew now, you wondered if he just wasn’t interested enough.

The thought crept under your skin, making you overthink the things you once brushed off.

Before, when you texted him to come over and he said he couldn’t, you didn’t think much of it. But now? Now, you wondered if he was with her when he wasn’t with you. If he looked at his phone, saw your message, and made a choice.

Yet, you kept crawling back for more.

You were an intelligent woman. You knew this was foolish. You knew how it made you look. But it was fine, because no one else knew how you felt—not your friends, not even Sunghoon himself. It was fine because you were foolish only in your own eyes. There was no need for anyone else to know.

Despite the foolishness of it all, you were happy. You were content enough to be able to spend time with him, to be touched and worshipped by him, to know you had the power to tease out a part of him that not everyone had the privilege to see.

“Sunghoon,” you sighed, fingers pressed against your temple as you looked out of the car window. “We’ve been circling this block for ten minutes.”

You had tagged along with Sunghoon on a quick trip to pick up some pieces for his department’s upcoming art exhibit. It was unplanned. You were outside the campus after class when he spotted you and asked if you wanted to join him. Since you didn’t have anything planned for the day (and because you could never say no to a chance to hang out with him), you got into his car and let him drive without even asking where you were going.

But Sunghoon, as it turned out, had a terrible sense of direction.

“I swear it was supposed to be around here,” he muttered, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping aimlessly at his phone.

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

He shot you a glance, sheepish. “Well, I meant it twenty minutes ago.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned back in your seat, stretching your legs. The map app on his dashboard kept recalculating, rerouting him to roads that either didn’t exist or led straight to nowhere. And when he finally admitted defeat, pulling over to rethink his next move, you both stepped out and realized something.

The ocean was right there.

Waves lapped lazily at the shore, the sky was clear, and the sun was warm but not overbearing—the kind of day that practically begged to be wasted at the beach.

“…Screw the errand?” you offered.

Sunghoon stared at the water for a moment before shrugging. “Screw the errand.”

And just like that, the detour became the destination.

The day unfolded spontaneously. You bought overpriced street food from a vendor by the shore, eating as you walked, laughing when Sunghoon scrunched his nose at the spicy kick of the sauce. He had an annoyingly specific taste in food and the smell, but he still let you shove a piece of yours into his mouth.

You found a little souvenir stand and tried on ridiculous sunglasses, taking pictures of each other in frames shaped like hearts and palm trees. Sunghoon snapped candid shots of you when you weren’t looking, and though you pretended to be annoyed, you never asked him to stop.

At some point, the tide crept in, and you played a round of rock, paper, scissors and dared the loser to get into the water. You weren’t even surprised when you lost. You sucked at this game.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you grumbled, kicking your sandals off. “By myself, no less.”

“Hey, it’s a game. We both agreed to this,” he retorted, stepping back. “And I can’t go in there. I’m wearing jeans.”

“And I’m wearing a skirt,” you countered, already wading in, your hem darkening as the waves reached you.

Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, probably wondering if you were actually sulking over a punishment you’d happily agreed to before you lost the game. Of course, you weren’t, but it was fun to tease him and see what he’d do.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said after the scowl never left your face. In a moment of impulsive surrender, he walked straight in after you, the water soaking up his pants. You’re actually unbelievable,” he added, shaking his head as the chill hit him.

You grinned triumphantly, making him brush his hair back in playful exasperation. Then, shaking his head in defeat, he said, “I knew it. It was a farce. You knew I was gonna give in!”

“You fell for it,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “Don’t blame me,” you added, flicking water at him.

Sunghoon blinked at you, unimpressed, before flicking some back with just the tips of his fingers.

“Oh, come on,” you taunted. “Is that the best you can do?”

His eyes narrowed slightly—just enough of a warning before he sent a full splash your way, drenching your arms. You gasped, stumbling back with a laugh.

“Oh? So that’s how it’s gonna be?” you shot back, scooping up water with both hands and throwing it right at his chest.

He retaliated, sending another wave toward you, and suddenly it was war. One splash turned into another, then another, until you were both breathless, clothes sticking to your skin, hair a mess.

Sunghoon pushed his dripping bangs back with a huff. “This is your fault,” he said, smiling his usual warm and blinding smile—the smile that made his eyes crinkle, the smile that revealed dimples carving deep into his cheeks, the smile that could make anyone think Sunghoon had never forced a grin in his life.

He was beautiful, and you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper, with no way out. You were falling so deep that it made your heart ache a little—the way you liked him, the way you wanted him to be yours, the way you wished today could last forever.

As the sky started to turn amber, you collapsed onto the sand, watching the sun lower itself into the horizon.

The waves rolled in, steady and endless, curling at the shore. The air smelled of salt, and the golden glow of the sunset painted the world majestically. You sat side by side, talking and laughing about random things, content to share the warmth of a single jacket.

Then, somewhere between the soothing sound of the waves and the silly jokes, the conversation drifted deeper.

You talked about things you never had before—about college, about dreams and ambitions, about the way people always say you’ll just know when something is right.

“How do you know for sure that that’s what you wanted to pursue?” he asked while you were tracing idle patterns in the sand. “What if you think you know, but when you get to the end of it, you realize it was the wrong choice?”

You looked out into the ocean, tilting your head slightly, considering. “I didn’t really know it was the right choice. I don’t think anyone ever really knows,” you admitted. “Not in the moment, at least. Maybe you just choose something, and later, that choice becomes the right one.”

You turned to look at him only to find out he already had his eyes on you. The admiration in his gaze was subtle, but it was there. Seeing that made your heart trip over itself, it made you forget, for just a second, that this wasn’t real.

And when he leaned in, when his eyes flickered to your lips and your breath caught, you stopped thinking. You knew what was coming. You knew he was about to kiss you, but somehow, for some reason, this time felt different. Like this kiss was gonna determine a major point in your relationship.

But before anything could happen, Sunghoon’s phone rang, jolting you both out of the trance. You both looked away in embarrassment, clearing your throat like you’d caught yourself doing something you shouldn’t. Which was ridiculous because you’d done nothing but kiss him in the past few months.

Sunghoon cleared his throat as he picked up his phone on the sand then answered the call with a quiet, “Yeah?”

It was the committee for the exhibit and you watched him talk on the phone for the next few minutes, explaining what had happened and why he couldn’t finish the errand. By the time he hung up, the sky had darkened completely, and the air had turned crisp.

“It’s late,” he said, brushing sand off his hands. “You okay with crashing at my place?”

You blinked. “Your place?”

“Our old family house. It’s not far from here.”

You hesitated for a moment, but then shrugged. “Sure.”

The car ride was quiet, thick with the tension that had been ignited by the near-kiss at the beach. Neither of you spoke, but your gazes met every now and then—quick glances, fleeting and heated, before darting away like you hadn’t been caught.

Sunghoon was the first to break. His hand drifted from the wheel, finding your thigh in the dim glow of the dashboard, fingers pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. He squeezed, testing, and when you didn’t stop him, he grew bolder, pushing the hem of your dress up just enough to feel the warmth of your skin. His fingers traced your skin with slow, deliberate strokes, inching higher into your inner thighs and lightly brushing your sex.

The heat of his touch burned through you. While you sat there feeling hotter as your heartbeat hammered wildly in your chest, he remained composed and quiet, his face unreadable save for the occasional twitch of his jaw. He kept his eyes on the road, but the way the car gradually picked up speed as he stepped harder on the gas told you everything you needed to know.

The tension coiled tighter and tighter until the car rolled to a stop in their driveway. He exhaled sharply, as if regaining control of himself before stepping out and opening the door for you like nothing was out of the ordinary. 

The lock to their house’s main entrance clicked, the door creaked open, and the second you stepped inside, all restraints snapped.

You barely had a moment to take in the house before his hands were on you, pulling you in, mouths crashing in a kiss that was desperate, needy, and greedy. He backed you into the foyer, hands mapping the curve of your waist, and the shape of your hips.

Your fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling, tugging, holding on for dear life as the heat of his touch woke something primal in you. He barely broke the kiss as he guided you further inside, not caring where you ended up as long as you got there together. You went past the foyer and the living room, but all you felt was the press of his body, the way he kissed you with the kind of hunger that made your head spin.

He pushed a door open, urging you inside but you hesitated, pulse hammering.

“Sunghoon,” you breathed between kisses, fingers clutching at his shoulders. “Your parents—”

“They’re not home.” His voice was low, steady, but his eyes burned through yours.

You barely had a second to process before he kissed you again, silencing every last doubt as he pushed you inside the door he had just opened. When he clicked the lights on, the glow of a bathroom light flickered on, reflecting off the tiles and the mirror above the sink.

“Figured you’d hate the taste of the sea on my skin,” he murmured, grinning as his fingers grazed your hip. You were suddenly reminded of the saltwater clinging to your skin, and the sand on your legs, remnants of the day you’d spent together.

You swallowed, nodding. But the moment he lifted the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, you knew washing up wasn’t gonna be the only thing happening in here. 

You shamelessly ogled him—his bare skin, damp from sweat and seawater, and his lean build with well-defined muscles that you’d seen several times before but still found alluring. He caught you staring and smirked, stepping closer, close enough that his fingers found the buttons of your top.

“Did you know I’m good with buttons?” he asked softly, making you giggle.

“Yeah. I’ve seen your skills,” you said, watching him.

His fingers were deft, undoing your buttons slowly, teasingly. When he was done, he gently tugged it off, letting it fall on the floor. His hands didn’t leave you, though. They skimmed down your arms, and your waist, examining every curve like he had it memorized and wanted to see if anything was different.

The next thing you knew, warm water was cascading over your bodies, steam enveloping you in the small space. The spray soaked your hair, trailing down your spine, but you barely noticed because Sunghoon was there—his hands smoothing over your skin, his lips brushing against your shoulder, your jaw, his canines grazing your skin ever so slightly.

“We’re supposed to be washing up,” you teased, though your voice was breathless.

“We are,” he murmured, his fingers sliding down your stomach, inching lower. “Just making sure we’re doing it thoroughly.”

You let out a quiet laugh, but it faded into a sigh when he pressed you back against the cool tiles, his mouth finding yours again. He didn’t stay for long, lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, all the way to your chest where his kisses turned a little more intense. He sucked and squeezed, sending a pleasant ripple through your body that made you arch forward for more. The water drowned out the sound of your quiet moans, the warmth of his mouth making every touch feel more heady, more intoxicating.

When did he take off his pants? You didn’t even notice until he pressed his body against yours and you felt his manhood pulsating against your torso, hot and raging. He kissed your lips again, shoving his tongue inside as his breathing turned rougher.

“Turn around,” he rasped in your ear, and you obliged, finding yourself face-to-face with your own reflection.

You pressed your hands against the glass, your entire body tingling with anticipation as he positioned himself behind you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing the side of your neck as you felt his tip prodding your pussy.

“Look at you,” he whispered, biting your ear. “Do you have any idea how you drive me crazy all the damn time?”

You were about to respond when he pushed himself inside you, making you let out a throaty gasp instead. Sunghoon stayed still, shushing you gently and kissing your shoulder.

“It’s alright. We’ve done this before,” he chimed and you could see him smirking in your reflection. 

“You’re used to this, right?” he asked, moving delicately so you could properly adjust to his length and girth. “Right, baby?” he asked again, and the lilt in his voice made you close your eyes and nod.

“That’s right. You said you love it, didn’t you?” 

You could only let out a deep sigh, tilting your head back. “Yes, Hoon. I love it,” you whispered back.

“Good. I know you do,” he chimed, gently bending you forward. “I know you’ll love this too,” he added before his hands settled on your waist and he started thrusting into you.

His pace was urgent, with enough force to make your knees weak each time he slammed into you. You didn’t even bother to stifle your moans anymore, letting them out completely, not caring if there were neighbors nearby who might hear you. You were lightheaded with lust, spiraling into the titillating euphoria that Sunghoon never once failed to deliver. Your entire being came alive and you were so caught up in it that you didn’t even notice your knees buckling underneath your weight.

Sunghoon’s grip tightened as he helped keep you up, pulling out to give you a quick break and to turn you face-to-face with him again. His grin was unmistakable, pleased to see your fucked-out expression. “So so beautiful,” he said, sweeping your hair out of your face.

He pressed you against the cool tiles, his lips crashing onto yours, urgency overtaking everything else. You gasped when his hands gripped your thighs, lifting you against him. The water poured over his shoulders, down your back, as he moved with reckless need, his breath ragged against your ear. 

“More, Hoon. Please, more,” you pleaded, as if he wasn’t already ramming mercilessly into you making every nerve in your body dance in pleasure.

“You’re so horny for me,” he murmured against your lips, his fingers gripping your thighs as he lifted you against him. “Can’t even wait till we got to the bed, huh?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed into you, the heat of the shower only amplifying the sensation. “This was your idea,” you whispered, but it came out shaky, wrecked.

He chuckled, low and deep. “I know. But you want this too, don’t you?” he said, voice smooth as his lips traced down your throat. “You want me so bad. You’re begging me for more, isn’t that right?”

You didn’t answer—not in words, at least. But when you tightened your grip around his shoulders, nails pressing into his skin, he took it as confirmation.

“That’s it,” he groaned, rolling his hips into yours. “Come on, baby. Let me hear you.”

You whimpered when he hit a delicious spot, holding onto him tighter. “Hoon, you fuck so good.”

He grunted, spurred on by your admission. He was fast, desperate—like he couldn’t get enough, like he had to claim every inch of you right then and there. When he finally tipped over the edge, dragging you down with him, he held you through it, his lips pressing on your temple as your body trembled in his arms.

The moment was fleeting, but the desire didn’t leave just yet. You could still feel it in his touch even as he set you back on your feet. The moment you stepped out of the shower, Sunghoon grabbed a towel, barely bothering to dry you properly before he lifted you off your feet, carrying you out of the bathroom, down the hallway, and into what you only assumed was his bedroom.

This time, there was no rush.

He laid you down, his hands smoothing over your skin, his touch softer now, more reverent. “Look at you,” he murmured, eyes tracing over every inch of you, dark with something more than just lust. “So pretty. So perfect for me.”

Your breath came uneven as he leaned down, pressing slow, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down your chest, lower—each one dragging a gasp from your lips.

“Tell me what you need,” he whispered against your skin.

“You,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah?” He kissed the corner of your mouth, teasing. “Then take me,” he added, just before he filled you up again.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t urgent, or desperate. It was slow, deep, and overwhelming in the most delightful way. He kept his forehead pressed to yours, breath warm against your face, whispering in between kisses.

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” he murmured, moving languidly. “You feel so good. You’re taking me so well.”

Every whispered praise sent shivers down your spine, made you cling to him even tighter, and made the pleasure build until it was unbearable.

The night was young and it was not gonna end just yet. And so the hours blurred into moments of euphoric highs, fleeting clarity, and intense need to ravage and be ravaged. His name was the only thing you could say—over and over—until you were both left breathless, tangled together in the sheets, completely undone.

In the morning, you probably wouldn’t remember every detail of tonight, but you’d remember this—remember the way his hands felt on your skin, the way he whispered your name like a prayer. In the dim glow of Sunghoon’s bedroom, your fingers tangled in his damp hair, lips swollen from too many kisses, you let yourself forget. Forget the rules. Forget that this was never supposed to feel like more. Just for tonight, he was yours, and you were his.

The morning light streamed in through the sheer curtains, hurting your eyes a little. You blinked awake, momentarily disoriented, until the scent of Sunghoon’s shampoo on your skin and the warmth of the bed beneath you reminded you where you were.

You turned over to find him already awake, his arm tucked behind his head as he looked at you with a lazy smile. “Morning,” he murmured.

“Morning,” you murmured, voice thick with sleep.

His fingers skimmed down your arm. “You’re cute when you sleep.”

A slow blink. Then, a scoff. “Liar.”

“It’s true.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering as his gaze flickered down to your lips. “You drool a little, though.”

You smacked his arm. “I do not.”

His laughter was low and teasing, as he caught your wrist then tugged you closer. His body was warm against yours, and his breath was even warmer as he kissed the curve of your neck.

“We should get up,” you said, but neither of you moved.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his soft kisses trailing down to your shoulder. “In a bit,” he added before reaching to cup your cheek and kiss your lips.

One thing led to another and suddenly, you were underneath him again, his body pressing into yours like he couldn’t bear to be apart.

The morning air was cool, but his hands were warm as they skimmed down your waist, his touch slow, and smooth. 

“You’re insatiable,” he murmured against your lips, smiling when you shivered under him.

“So are you,” you whispered back, running your fingers through his hair.

He hummed, nipping at your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. “Guess we’re even, then.”

His hands slid over your bare skin, his touch reverent. He kissed you deeply, guiding you through the lazy tangle of limbs and soft gasps, dragging it out like he had all the time in the world.

By the time you finally got out of bed, Sunghoon had already dug through his closet, tossing you an old hoodie and some sweatpants. You pulled them on and followed him down the quiet hallway.

The house felt still—too still. Only then did you notice the dust gathering on the bookshelves, the faint scent of time in the air.

“This place has been empty for a while now,” Sunghoon said casually from behind you when he noticed you looking around. “My family moved a few months ago to take care of my grandparents.”

Your brows lifted. “So no one lives here?”

He shook his head. “Not really. I come by sometimes. I technically still live here, I'm just not here often.”

That made sense. There was something about the house—it felt untouched, frozen in time, like stepping into a memory. You walked further into the hall, your fingers grazing along the walls and stopping at the framed photographs hanging there.

You studied them, tilting your head. Sunghoon as a kid, bright-eyed and grinning, a missing tooth on full display. A younger version of him on a skating rink, mid-game, frozen in motion. Another picture—him and his family, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, and several of him in a skating rink, different poses, taken in the middle of a routine.

“You skate?”

Sunghoon smiled, standing beside you and looking up at the photos. “Used to. I was in the national team for a while.”

“Why did you stop?” you asked glancing up at him and seeing the reminiscent look on his face.

He simply shrugged. “I had to be realistic. I enjoyed the sport but I couldn’t see myself doing it for a long time.”

You bit back a smile. “You were kind of adorable.”

Sunghoon scoffed, stepping up behind you. “I still am.”

“Debatable.”

He tugged at your hoodie—his hoodie—pulling the hood over your head before nodding toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go get something to eat.”

The drive back to the city was uneventful, the radio playing softly in the background. Sunghoon’s hand rested on the wheel, his other lazily draped over your thigh, tracing absentminded patterns through the fabric of his sweatpants that you were still wearing. You were talking, laughing, stealing quick glances at him between songs on the stereo.

At some point, he cleared his throat. “So… what are you doing later?”

“I have a group project.” You groaned, leaning back against the seat. “I’m meeting up with my classmates later.”

“Right. Group project.” He nodded slowly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. “Sounds boring.”

“It is,” you huffed. “Why’d you ask?”

“No reason.” His eyes stayed fixed on the road, but you caught the way his grip on the wheel tightened just slightly. A second passed before he spoke again, this time even more nonchalant. “What about tomorrow?”

You tilted your head. “Tomorrow? I’m not sure. Just classes, I think.” You turned to him, raising a brow. “Why?”

“Do you wanna grab lunch with me tomorrow?”

You stared at him for a moment, then grinned teasingly. “Are you asking me out on a date, Park Sunghoon?”

His ears turned the faintest shade of pink, but he scoffed like the idea was ridiculous. “I’m just saying we should get lunch.”

“Mmm.” You pretended to think. “Sounds like a date to me.”

“It’s not a date.”

You scoffed in playful exasperation. “Dude, I was naked on top of you last night and a couple of other nights before. Surely we’re way past shy invitations for lunch dates?”

“I’m asking you to eat.” He paused, then added with a tilt of his head, “But if you wanna call it a date, that’s fine too. Labels are overrated.”

You hummed, pretending to think about it. “Hm. I guess I’ll allow it.”

Sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “Good. It’s settled then,” he said, stopping at a red light.

He leaned over to kiss you, catching you off guard but only for a moment. You kissed him back, albeit a little confused. When he pulled away, he was wearing a proud smirk on his face and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” he asked, shifting the gear as the light turned green again. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing it to his lips.

One hour later, you reached your apartment complex, but had to you stay a few more minutes in his car because he couldn’t seem to get enough of you, kissing and touching right there in the parking lot. You had to forcefully push him away and remind him that you had classes and important stuff to attend to. Even then, he was reluctant to let you go.

After a dramatic goodbye that had him pouting as he drove away, you climbed up the building with a sickening grin on your face. You unlocked your door, stepping inside with a lightness in your chest, breathing in the familiar smell of your home. 

The past few days had been a rollercoaster for you, with all the guessing and expectations and disappointments. But now, you were feeling much lighter, much happier. The good days with Sunghoon were all you could think of, playing back in flashes—the sound of his laugh in your space, the weight of his arm over your waist in the morning, the smell of his skin at night, the way he always left the bathroom mirror fogged up because he took ridiculously hot showers.

Tossing your bag onto the couch, you leaned against the door for a moment, smiling to yourself. Sunghoon was nice, but he always drew an invisible line. Not this time. You could tell by the way he held you this morning, the way he was reluctant to part from you, and how he’d asked to hang out with you for lunch—outside, in public. It felt like, for once, you both wanted the same thing. No second-guessing, no mixed signals—you were finally moving the same direction.

Your gaze drifted to the hoodie he’d left draped over the chair, his specs on your nightstand, and the half-empty tumbler beside it—subtle proofs that he’d started leaving pieces of himself behind. You wondered if he even realized it.

And more than that, you wondered where this would go next.

The next morning, you woke up too early. Way too early.

You groaned into your pillow, rolling onto your back as you stared at the ceiling. It was ridiculous. You’d seen Sunghoon plenty of times before—hung out, spent nights together, and shared more than just passing glances. But the idea of today, of a proper lunch date, had you wide awake before the sun was even fully up. Maybe it was because, for once, you weren’t just meeting up in the comfort of your apartment or his. It would be something different. Something real.

You giggled at the thought, covering your face with your blanket and then flailing your arms and legs. 

Admitting that to yourself felt embarrassing, so you dragged yourself out of bed and decided to be productive. If you were going to be up this early, you might as well make the most of it.

A jog around the neighborhood. A quick stop at the store. And before you knew it, you were back in your apartment, unpacking groceries and deciding, on a whim, to actually cook breakfast. When was the last time you did that? You couldn’t even remember.

By the time you arrived on campus, you were still riding the high of a morning well-spent. Your good mood didn’t go unnoticed—your friends picked up on it immediately, teasing you about the extra bounce in your step. You brushed them off with the excuse of getting enough sleep, but they weren’t wrong. Everything just felt lighter today.

Even classes didn’t seem so unbearable. You participated. You took notes. You weren’t counting down the minutes to leave—well, not exactly. But the closer lunchtime got, the more restless you became, checking your phone every so often even though you knew you were the only one keeping track of time this obsessively.

Then, just as you were leaving your last morning class, your phone buzzed.

Sunghoon: Hey pretty. Something came up. I can’t do lunch today. I’m sorry. Sunghoon: I’ll make it up to you later tonight, okay?

Your steps slowed, but you kept moving, staring at the text longer than necessary.

Bummed. That was the best way to describe it. You weren’t mad—plans get canceled all the time, and at least he let you know ahead of time—but disappointment still settled in the pit of your stomach. You took a breath, shook it off, and responded with a simple, It’s fine. See you later.

Lunch with your friends helped a little. You laughed, caught up on random gossip, and even let them drag you to a café afterward. You weren’t dwelling on it. Really, you weren’t.

Until you stepped out of the café and saw him. Sunghoon, standing outside the campus gates. And he wasn’t alone. 

Jenna was with him.

You stopped in your tracks, heart lurching in a way you hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t just that he was there, but the way he was standing close to her, the way she was talking, nudging his arm like she had every right to be in his space.

Sunghoon must have felt someone staring at him because he glanced your way and saw you. His eyes brightened in recognition, and he greeted you casually, like nothing was out of the ordinary. But you didn’t even know how to react. Your body moved before your brain could catch up. You walked past him, barely sparing a glance, pretending as if you weren’t close. As if he was just someone you barely knew.

Your friends who saw that were confused, following behind you after quick greetings to both Sunghoon and Jenna. 

Tammy caught up to you, nudged your arm, and asked, “Where are you running off to after ignoring Sunghoon like that?”

“I wasn’t ignoring anyone,” you muttered.

“You totally were,” Lily chimed in, linking arms with you as she leaned to speak in a quieter voice. “That’s so fishy. What’s going on?”

You didn’t respond, your mind too muddled to even try and come up with a good answer. As you rounded the corner, your phone buzzed a second later.

Sunghoon: Hey. What was that?

You ignored it, as well as the other messages that followed. 

The rest of the afternoon slipped through your fingers in a haze of self-pity. You curled up on the couch, aimlessly flipping through movies, but nothing got your attention. The voices blurred together, scenes passed without meaning. You weren’t devastated. You weren’t heartbroken. You were just... mad. Annoyed that after everything, after how good things had been, this was what it came down to. But getting worked up wouldn’t do anything. So, you forced yourself to let it go. 

Or at least, you tried. It was impossible when he kept creeping into your thoughts—his voice, his touch, the way he looked at you just yesterday—like he wanted this as much as you did.

You didn’t even realize you had dozed off until the sound of your phone ringing jolted you awake.

You blinked against the glow of the screen. Sunghoon.

For a moment, you stared at his name, your heartbeat loud in the quiet of your apartment. You could ignore it. You could let it ring out and pretend you were still asleep. You could put an end to this charade, to tell him you were done and sick of it. But you didn’t.

You answered. His voice was gentle, cautious. “Can I come over?”

You should say no. You should end this here and now. Enough is enough. But… “Yeah. Of course,” you said, trying your best to sound normal.

Half an hour later, he was in your apartment, hands on you, lips on yours, familiar and desperate. And, as always, you let him in—physically, emotionally, despite knowing better. You let yourself believe that maybe, for just a little longer, this could be enough.

Afterward, you slipped out of bed, padding into the bathroom to wash up. By the time you returned, the room was dark, the only source of light was coming from Sunghoon’s phone on the nightstand. He was already asleep, his breathing even, his body sprawled across your sheets like he belonged there.

You reached for the blanket to pull it over him when his phone buzzed, the screen glowing against the dim light. Your gaze flickered to it, drawn by instinct.

Jenna calling...

Your chest tightened at the name. For a moment, you just stood there, watching the name flash across the screen before it faded into darkness. You could answer it. You could see what she wanted, hear her voice, and confirm everything you had been trying so hard to ignore.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you climbed into bed, curling up beside Sunghoon, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. You knew what you had to do. Knew that when he woke up, this had to end for good.

But not yet.

For now, while he was still yours—warm, close, familiar—you let yourself have this one last moment. You closed your eyes and pretended everything was okay, even though you knew exactly what tomorrow would bring.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. The space beside you was cold. 

It was over.

The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. You had spent the night convincing yourself that you were ready for this, ready to end things, but the second you woke up to find him gone, the ache in your chest became unbearable.

Tears welled up before you could stop them. You curled into yourself, pressing your face against the pillow, sobbing into the fabric as if that could somehow muffle the sound. This wasn’t supposed to hurt. You weren’t supposed to grieve something that was never really yours. But you did.

You let yourself fall apart, mourning what could have been, whispering prayers into the silence that it didn’t have to end this way.

And then the door creaked open. You gasped, jolting up, eyes red and blurry as Sunghoon stepped into the room, holding your tumbler in his hand. 

His brows furrowed at the sight of you, eyes widening in alarm. “What’s wrong?” he asked, rushing to your side, setting the tumbler down before cupping your face and wiping the tears off your cheeks. “Hey—why are you crying?”

You shook your head, unable to form words. He pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around you as you sobbed against him. He didn’t ask any more questions. He just held you, rubbing your back, shushing you gently even though he didn’t understand what had you so upset.

After a long moment, you finally managed to choke out, “I thought you were gone.”

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, blinking at you in confusion. Then, to your utter annoyance, he started laughing.

“What do you mean, gone?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I literally just went to shower and get you some water.”

You smacked his arm, your face burning. “Don’t laugh at me, you jerk!”

“I’m not laughing at you,” he said, though he was definitely still laughing.

Something about his amusement made you snap. Maybe it was the pent-up emotions, or maybe it was the fact that you had nothing left to lose—but suddenly, everything came spilling out.

You confessed it all.

How you weren’t supposed to catch feelings, but you did. How you tried to push them down, to ignore them, but they never really went away. How you had spent so long pretending to be fine with this casual arrangement, knowing deep down that you weren’t. How much it crushed you to think that he was trying to win Jenna back, how much it hurt when he canceled on you, and how stupid you felt for letting yourself get so attached.

Sunghoon stared at you, utterly dumbfounded.

You sniffled, swallowing back the last of your tears. “Well? Say something.”

And then, to your horror, he started laughing again.

Your stomach twisted. “Are you kidding me right now?”

But before you could shove him away, he grabbed your face and kissed you. Hard.

Your breath hitched, but you melted into it, gripping his shirt as he kissed you like he had been waiting for this moment all along. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice quieter now. “I like you,” he admitted. “A lot.”

You opened your mouth, but he kept going. “You’re fun, you don’t take my shit, and you get me in a way that most people don’t. I’m always looking forward to seeing you. To hearing whatever sarcastic thing you were gonna say next. To just… being with you.”

“Then why—”

“I wasn’t with Jenna because of what you think.” His hands slid down to hold yours, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “There was an accident with the exhibit setup, and I had to be there. She just happened to walk out with me.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And the part where you’re trying to get back with her?”

Sunghoon made a face. “Where did you even hear that?”

You hesitated before mumbling, “A mutual friend.”

He huffed. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“I don’t know!” You did, but you weren’t about to admit that you didn’t want to seem like you were expecting too much from him—like you were demanding something that was never part of your deal.

Sunghoon sighed, squeezing your hands. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but I only have eyes for you.” His lips quirked. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t realize how much I liked you at first, but ever since we started this, I haven’t thought about anyone else.”

Your heart stuttered.

Then he smirked. “I thought we had an understanding. Did we really need a label for it?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Right. Labels are overrated.”

Sunghoon kissed you deeply, and this time, you returned it with the same amount of sweet abandon. Then he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he murmured. “And right now, I’m wondering if you’d wanna be mine too.”

You let out a sharp breath, your chest tightening at his words. For a second, you just stared at him—his dark eyes searching yours, his expression completely open, completely vulnerable.

Then you scoffed, shaking your head with an exasperated laugh.

“For fuck's sake, Sunghoon.” You squeezed his hands, tugging him just a little closer. “I’m already yours.”

His lips crashed into yours before you could say anything else, stealing the last of your breath, and this time, you didn’t hold anything back.

[fin]

[nyankochan]

Your Majesty

Synopsis: your doting husband is willing to indulge in all of your deepest fantasies. Even the ones you're embarrassed to admit

Content: king!malleus x wife!reader, afab!reader, semi public sex in the throne room, switch!malleus, oral fem!receiving, rough sex, multiple orgasms, breeding kink if you squint, Malleus is literally the sweetest husband that worships the ground you walk on

W/c: 2.3K

“I don’t believe that I heard you correctly, my love. Can you please repeat what you said?”

You could feel your face burning, growing hotter from embarrassment under your husband’s amused expression. He waits patiently for your rebuttal, a smile gracing his elegant features while you seem to shrink under his stare.

“Y-you heard what I said!” You stubbornly reply, not wanting to directly repeat the embarrassing request of yours.

Bemused, Malleus stands, walking around his desk that had piles of paperwork sitting on it, which now took little precedence for the needs of his lovely wife were always his first priority. You still refused to look at him, even when he approached.

“Now, what ever are you being bashful for?” Malleus teased. He brushed a strand of hair from your face, deepening the flush of your cheeks. His touch tickled and made your chest flutter. When you still wouldn’t respond, a brief frown crossed his face. The next thing you knew, the two of you were transported to a new room.

“W-wait what?” Your vision blurred from disorientation. You stumbled forward into Malleus’s chest, the fae holding you steady so you could gather your bearings.

You were now in the throne room.

The room always intimidated you. The long stretch of deep black carpet leading from the grand archway entrance to the gothic throne seemed to run for miles. Accents of green and hints of grey were the only flashes of color outside of muted shades of black. And granite carvings of gargoyles kept a watchful eye on the currently empty room.

“Mal, why are we here?” You ask.

Malleus takes your hand, gently guiding you towards the throne. He then gestures for you to sit. At your hesitation, he smiles. “Sit, dear.”

“B-but this is not my throne.”

“As the queen that rules beside me, this throne is equally yours as it is mine,” Malleus says, coaxing you to finally take a seat. “and no one shall tell you otherwise.”

The throne is cold to the touch. It’s much too large for you, so your smaller frame barely fills up the space. Your arms settle somewhat uncomfortably on the armrests as your heart begins to race.

“A beautiful ruler indeed,” Malleus muses. Despite how nervous you looked, you were as regal as ever in his eyes. The way your black gown hugged around your hips, the sheer sleeves teasing your smooth skin. And Malleus’s gaze couldn’t help but wander down the dipping neckline, not quite plunging, but still deep enough to be considered revealing. “You’re bsolutely stunning, my love.”

Your breath hitches.

The Malleus Draconia drops to his knees before you.

His hands trace down your waist and over your thighs, making you shiver. He bunches up the end of your gown, pressing a kiss against your bare knee. His green irises flicker with adoration as he looks up at you.

“I could worship you all day, Your Majesty.”

Your throat feels dry. “M-malleus, p-please touch me.”

A glimmer of wickedness flashes within his eyes and then he smiles. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

Malleus rolls your dress up to your hips then drags your lacy panties down your calf. He pulls you closer to the edge of the throne so that your legs could settle around his shoulders. You keep your arms glued to the rest, anxiously waiting for what your husband would do next. You let out a squeak of surprise when his breath fans against your pussy, but Malleus does not touch you right away. He places tantalizing slow kisses up your inner thigh, working his way towards the sensitive place you want to feel him most.

“I can smell your arousal already,” Malleus’s voice rumbles. “Do I satisfy you, Your Majesty?”

Feeling a little bit bolder now, you respond with, “put your mouth on me first and then I’ll decide.”

“As you wish.”

You immediately gasp out, hands clenching tighter around the rest as Malleus licks your folds. He’s gentle at first. You feel his tongue press in you, the forked tip making you shiver from delight. Malleus nearly groans at your taste, trying his best to keep some sense of composure, but it was proving difficult because the sight of you on the throne was all it took for his knees to go weak and for him to want to submit to you fully. You were his, mind, body and soul as he was yours. Anything you wanted, he’d provide within his power to do so. So when you expressed a hidden desire to christen the throne, who was he to deny such luxury? Especially seeing the way you flustered, chest heaving as your legs tightened around his neck in a not-so-desperate attempt to pull away.

“A-ah M-malleus-oh fuck!” You shakily reach out, needing something to steady yourself as your hips bucked upward. That something being Malleus’s horns.

A low, throaty growl resounded from the back of his throat when your cool hands grip the base of his extremities. His body jolted, feelings of jolting electricity surging through his veins from your touch. The growl melted into a groan, and he accidentally bites on your thigh to suppress it. The sound caught the both of you off guard. Malleus hadn’t realized that they were such an erogenous zone as most people wouldn’t dare to touch them. But now, he was craving the sensation more.

“S-shit,” you hiss, not necessarily from pain but the way Malleus seemed to tremble from your mere touch. His face and ears turn bright red and his cock nearly bulged out of the confines of his slacks, almost making you come on the spot. The sight was arousing to say the least. You let out a little giggle, hands wrapping around his horns firmly this time to pull Malleus back towards your dripping pussy.

“I didn’t say stop,” you command. “Keep going until I cum.”

“As you wish.”

Malleus is rougher, sucking on your sensitive clit and greedily tasting your sweet, addictive release. His nails dig into your thighs as he grips them to bury his face deeper between them. You feel your head spin as the overwhelming pleasure overloads your senses. Tears brim your lashes. Your back arches up, pressing yourself firmly against his face as you tug on his horns, making him groan. “Fuck, Mal, I’m close!” Your toes curl and the pressure coiling in your stomach snaps. Gasping out your husband’s name, you cum across his face before slumping back against the throne.

Malleus is briefly taken aback. He slurps up your remaining release, before pulling back to examine your expression. “Was that to your liking, Your Majesty?” He asks, playfully.

You smile. “It was, but, now I have another request.”

“Oh? Do tell.” Malleus’s breath hitches as you press your foot against his crotch. As you press harder, he lets out a shaky sigh, then a moan. His head bows, resting on your other leg while you continue to tease him. “M-my Love, please do not provoke me.” Malleus could feel himself throb as his cock swells within his boxers, begging for you to touch him directly instead of through his clothes. It presses up against his thigh, stretching the fabric when it can’t break free from the confines of the waistband. Your menstruations drive him closer to the edge, leaving him moaning and pleading for your mercy. “Dear, please,” Malleus whines. “You’re being unfair.”

“Ah, you mean “Your Majesty”, you taunt, thoroughly enjoying the sense of power and control you currently posses to make Malleus putty at your finger tips. “You’re not allowed to cum anywhere but inside me, for it?”

Malleus lets out a breathy pant, eyes scrunching shut as he tries to hold back. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

He suddenly pounces. Before you could register, Malleus pulls you up into his chest, your legs spread wide open before the invisible audience. If someone were to walk in at that moment, they’d see you spread bare and needy on the King of Briar Valley’s lap. The thought mortified you.

“Such a beautiful scene this is,” Malleus mumbled, trailing kissed down your neck. You whimpered. When you tried to close your legs, he keeps a firm hand to pry them open. His finger trails down your folds, collecting your slick on them. “My beautiful Queen by my side.”

“Malleus, w-what if someone walks in?”

“Hm? You weren’t worried about such trivial matters a moment ago?” He leans his head against your back, letting out a sigh. “You are my absolute everything, my treasure. No mortal has ever made me feel this weak and vulnerable. You command my entire heart, and with that, I will always serve you first and foremost. No one shall stop me from worshipping you like you deserve.”

Malleus rocks your hips against his, hands on your waist, making you feel his erection. It’s big, begging to be released. “Tell me what you want, Your Majesty, and it shall be yours.”

“I-I want your cock, Mal,” you whine, arching back to gain more friction. “Please, Mal, I need you inside of me.”

Your heart thrums in anticipation as you hear the sound of the zipper come undone. With a strong arm, Malleus holds you up to release his cock from the confines of his pants, a slight sigh of relief coming from his lips. You swallow nervously. His cock is long and thick, oozing with white pre cum. It rests against his abdomen, twitching with anticipation. You always have trouble taking him all the way from how big he was. Malleus knew that. And it was taking all his control not to rut into you like his instincts were screaming at him to and breed you over and over until the throne was painted with both of your releases.

“You never have to beg, dear. As I said before, whatever you wish is my command.”

You gasp, tears springing to your eyelashes as Malleus slowly inches in. “W-wait t-too much!” You try and fail to pull away. Your husband has one hand gripping your thigh while the other is secured around your waist. “M-mal! You’re too deep! Fuck!”

Malleus grunts as you grind against him. With one final push, he slams you down the rest of his length until he’s sheathed completely. He breathes heavily as he waits for you to adjust to his size. You squeeze around him so tightly and your walls seem to keep fluttering as you struggle to accommodate him. But the moment you start to sniffle, he’s immediately concerned.

“What’s wrong my love?!” He cups your cheek, wiping a stray tear.

You press your hand against your lower abdomen where the indentation of his cock stretches against your womb.

“I can feel you in my tummy.”

And with that, Malleus’s last bit of restraint breaks.

His eyes dilate, looking more reminiscent of a dragon’s. He hooks his arms under your thighs and pulls your legs back against your chest in one swift motion. You gasp out as his cock kisses your cervix followed by subsequently rougher and faster thrusts that have you seeing stars. Malleus’s growls are borderline animalistic as he pounds into you. His fangs grace across your shoulder blade, small bites left in their wake. The further he pulls your legs back, the deeper the stretch feels and you’re coming seconds later.

“Mal-wait! Fuck! I’m gonna cum again-n-no no!” Your head falls back as you cry out, but Malleus neither stops nor slows down. His veiny cock drags across your gummy walls, claiming every inch of you, marking you with his scent.

“You say stop, but you’re squeezing me so tight I can’t pull away,” Malleus pants. “Are you sure of your words, my love? Because your body is telling me otherwise.” His finger teases your clit. You whine as he lets out a hiss. “S-see? Your insides keep tightening every time I press my cock right around here.” To prove his point, he bullies his length against that sweet spot which has your toes curling and clenching around him just like he said. “I know your body better than anything, my love. You can’t lie to me about your desires.”

Malleus pauses just briefly enough to lift and turn you around. He slams you back on his cock and claims your lips in a kiss before you could scream. He sucks the air out of your lungs, relishing the way you taste. You grind down against him, the friction stimulating your clit.

“I-inside,” Malleus grunts. “Can I come inside? I have to…claim you entirely.”

“You’re not allowed to come anywhere else,”you whimper. Malleus’s pace falters slightly. He feels his balls constrict and his abdomen tightened. One, two, three more thrusts and he’s gripping you close to him when his orgasm hits hard. His fangs clamping down on to your shoulder as he fucks his cum deeper, gripping your hips with bruising strength. Your body trembles and all your energy disappears as you succumb to the euphoria induced lightheadedness, making you collapse against Malleus. You feel your stomach warm as your lover paints your insides white with his release. Between your thighs feels sticky as it drips down your legs.

Malleus brushes your sweaty hair out your face before kissing your forehead. “Are you okay, my love?”

“Mhm…” you nod sleepily as you lay against his chest. He continues to trace circles on your back. “I can’t feel my legs though.”

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to cause you discomfort.”

“No it’s okay!” You lean up to kiss him. “If I had known fucking on the throne would have gotten you this worked up, I’d have asked months ago.”

Malleus smiles, hugging you tightly. “You needn’t be afraid to ask me for whatever you want, my love. I would give you the moon itself if I could pry it from the sky.”

[luvyeni]

LOVESICK BOY 𝕼. ( 이동혁 )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이동혁 x fem!reader )  ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. unprotected sex , oral ( f )word count. 3.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

synopsis … haechan is completely lovesick … but you won’t give him the time a day , until chenle comes in and shows you what you’ve been missing

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ this is the one that i think was supposed to be a yandere but the person didn’t specify

you really couldn’t see the appeal; all he did was sleep around with other girls, party and never show up to class — so why couldn’t you stop staring at him?

“my god he’s so annoying.” chenle turned around to see who you were staring at. “and how is she even falling for that?” you watched donghyuck flirt with the 3rd girl this morning , the girls eyes shimmered with hope and joy. if only she knew she’d be severely disappointed in the end. “this is your third complaint about him today.” jeno smirked. “we’ll need to get a jar , every complaint about hyuck you’ll have to put a dollar in the jar.”

“hey maybe we will be able to afford a new game for the frat after all , give it a week.” jaemin teased , you scoffed. “with the way she talks about him , maybe will have a little left over.” the table laughed , while you just rolled your eyes. “haha very funny , im leaving.” you stood up ready to walk away when someone blocked your path. “lee donghyuck.” you sighed , the boy smiled in front of you. “hey my wife to be.” he smirked. “where you going i just got here.” he said.

“really because we all saw you flirting with that girl over there.” you didn’t even mean to sound jealous , but it came off like that. “you jealous?” he said , you stepped to the right , but he followed blocking you once again. “come on you know you’re the one that i want.” and he was serious about that , but to you it meant nothing. “yeah , how many people did you say that to today?” you pushed him out the way , walking away to your next class.

he waited until you were out of sight and earshot before he sat in the seat slumped. “and what’s got you upset today?” marked smirked , the guys groaning knowing the rant he was about to go on. “you got him started.” he sighed dramatically. “i just don’t get it , why won’t she take me seriously.” his friends shook their heads. “how many times do i have to confess for her to get it.” he said. “for starters don’t flirt with other girls in front of her.” renjun said. “but i wasn’t flirting , i only asked where she got her necklace from.” he said. “i wanted to buy it for yn , she said a month ago her favorite necklace broke and i wanted to get her a new one , that looked like one she would like.” he said.

“yeah but that girl looked like she wanted to pull your pants down and suck your dick in front of everyone and with how friendly you were, it looked like you’d let her.” chenle said. “this is driving me insane.” he tugged at his hair. he couldn’t get you out of his head, you consumed him entirely even though you barely gave him the time of day. he even enjoyed when you would insult him because at least you were talking to him. “you guys don’t understand.” he sighed. “you’ve explained it , many many many times.” jisung looked up from his phone. “we understand.”

“where did obsession even come from , she’s never given you any reason for you to like her like that.” jaemin said. “i don’t know , it’s just that every single thing she does makes me crazy, even now i feel sick that she isn’t here , i miss her and she doesn’t even know it.” his friends watch him pour his heart out. “i think i love her.”

“whoa calm down.” mark said. “at least get her to like you before you start talking fucking wedding bells , children and shit.” the table chuckled , but he was serious. “how can i get her to like me?” he said. “aren’t you supposed to be good at this?” chenle said. “aren’t you like known for getting girls out of their panties , this should be a walk in the park for you.” haechan knew his reputation ; and he won’t deny his freshman year he really was like that — but then he met you , and everything changed , he no longer wanted to be a player , he wanted you and only you… turns out his past did come with consequences , you hated him; you wanted nothing to do with him despite him telling you that he changed , you refused to believe him.

“that’s the thing , i don’t want to get her out her panties.” they all looked at him. “well not just that , i want to be her , go on dates , take her to the movies , hell sit in the park and have a picnic.” he said. “yeah but you also want to fuck her in these exact places and she’s aware of that.” jeno said. “it’s your approach bro.” mark said. “yn doesn’t want to know what you’d do to her if you were alone in her bedroom.” he said. “she’s probably heard that 1000 times already.” he doubled over with a groan , he couldn’t fathom another guy talking to you. “instead of approaching her like a jerk , ask her on a real date first; or at least say hello when you see her and not and this is a quote from you ‘hello mother of all 6 of my future kids.’

he thought about all the advice that he was giving; as he waited outside of your class. “don’t say anything stupid.” he said to himself , walking back and forth. “nothing stupid.” he said. “oh that must be hard for you.” he spun around upon hearing your voice. “you’re constantly saying stupid stuff.” he smiled , your upper lip curled up in annoyance. “hi yn.” he said. “what do you want lee donghyuck?” you walked , he followed behind you. “well to ask you a question.” he said. “no.” you said , he pouted , making you feel bad. “fine what is it , i have a class.” you said. “i can walk you.” he said walking next to you. “is that what you wanted? that’s not a question.”

“that’s not the question yn , please listen to me for a second.” he pleased. “what is is donghyuck?” you said. “let me take you out,” he said. “what?” you stopped. “let me take you out.” he repeated. “on a date , a real date.” he said. “and why would i do that?” you said. “because im trying to show you that im not a heartless bastard with no home training.” you stifled a laugh. “did you laugh?” he said. “no.” you deadpanned. “yes you did , come on it was funny , you can laugh.” he said. “haechan — oh my god , you called me haechan.” you stared at him. “i have class donghyuck.” you stopped outside the classroom. “then say yes; we’ll go see a movie.” he explained. “we can even go get ice cream , brownie your favorite.”

“how did you know that?” you asked. “just say yes , before you’re late.” he said. you thought about it for a second , no sexual jokes , no condescending smirk on his face , although sexy made you want to slap him — he was serious. “are you fucking with me?” you said. “yn i wouldn’t have walked you all the way to class if i wasn’t serious , my class is on the other side of campus.” he said. “im waiting and you know what i think i can miss a day of class , this class seems fun.” he tried to walk past you , but you stopped him. , hand on his chest. “no don’t do that.” you said. “i will go; so go back to your class , lord knows you shouldn’t miss a day.” he smiled , his hand coming to your wrist. “really?” he said. “i will meet you at the movie theatre , now go.”

he waited for you to go into the class; before bursting out in a fit of excitement; you said yes , he couldn’t believe you said yes.

“i can’t believe i said yes.” you slammed your vanity. “why did i say yes?” you complained to your friend on the phone. “because maybe you really like him and you let his reputation from freshman year determine your entire perception of him.” chenle said. “still , we both saw him flirting with those girls.” you said. “i won’t be another one of sexual conquests.” chenle spoke up. “be realistic who didn’t do dumb shit during freshman year? you ran topless down a busy street drunk and has haechan judged you for that?” he said. “no in fact he was the one who chased you down the street, shirt in hand , his shirt because yours was floating in our pool.” you cringed, remembering jeno and haechan dragging you back to the dorms as you screamed. “i genuinely believe that was the first time he actually realized he fell deep for you and not because you were naked and in his arms.”

“to be honest haechan hasn’t been with anyone since freshman year , im pretty sure he fucked himself into not wanting anything , but not only that , but because he quite literally doesn’t want anyone else but you.” chenle said. “and those girls , we know he’s friendly even the teachers think he’s flirting with them.” he said. “but he was touching her.” you said. “because she had a necklace that he wanted to buy you , he remembered you broke yours and he wanted to get you a new one.” he let it spill out; should he have? no , but with the new look on your face he knew haechan would thank him in the end. “i only mention that once , months ago.”

“and he remembered; just how he remembers everything you say , down to the name of your dead hamster you had when you were three.” chenle said. “i genuinely don’t think you understand how much he likes you.” he said. “and i think you’re letting your soulmate slip right from your hands.”

as you stood staring at the movie posters; everything was swirling around in your head as you tried to make sense of it… did haechan really feel this deeply for you? you’ve treated him so horribly for all these years for some stupid things he did when he was fresh out of highschool; and now chenle sprung this on you… you felt like shit. you hadn’t even realized that haechan was late. “yn!”

you were gonna kill him; you’ll never give him the time of day again, you’re gonna think he’s fucking with you. “calm down man , how were you supposed to know your car was gonna break down.” mark sat in the drivers seat. “call her , im sure she’ll understand.” he said. “she probably already went home , and blocked me.” he said. “well we’re here , so get out and hope she’s still there.” he hopped out of the car , running into the movie theaters. “please still be here.”

he saw you and let out a sigh of relief; your back was turned but he could tell it was you. he could pick you out of a lineup with his eyes closed; just by your scent alone. “yn!” he ran over to you. “im so sorry i didn’t hmph.” was he dreaming? this was a sick joke his mind was play; he was dreaming , you actually weren’t here and this was a dream he was having. he had to be — because there was no way you were hugging him right now. “um not that i don’t like this … but what is this?”

you were silent; no you sniffled. why are you sniffling? are you sick? “yn , this is weird, what’s wrong?” he pulled away; you were too ashamed to look him in the eyes. “please look at me , im sorry for being late.” he said. “why are you crying?” he said, worried even more now. “what happened did someone do something?” you shook your head. “then tell me please im dying.” he said, which made you laugh through your tears. “im so stupid.” you said. “please i’ve met stupid girls and you definitely aren’t one of them.” he said. “oh no that came out wrong i promise i haven't met any girls , it’s just me saying that i think you’re very smart.” he panicked. “please just tell me why you’re crying.” he said.

“because i’ve been so mean to you an-and all you’ve tried to do is be nice to me and i judged you for things you did years; even though you’ve never judged me even when i ran down the street topless— hey!” his hand came up to your mouth. “not everyone needs to hear that.” he said. “where is all this coming from?” he said. “im just sorry for everything.” you said. “every single thing i’ve done wrong.” his first instinct was to grab your face. “nothing could make me hate you okay?” he said. “i haven’t done much to prove how much i really like you; only how much i wanted to sleep with you — wait not that i want to sleep with you, why am i so bad at this all of a sudden.” he said. “let’s just go see the movie okay, we can get ice cream after and talk alright?” you nodded , he took his hands off your cheeks , taking one of your hands into his. “come on wipe those tears off your pretty face.”

haechan could barely watch the movie with the way your hand was gripping his. you wouldn’t let him go , and he wouldn’t have it any other way — if this was a dream he was scheduling an appointment for a therapist when he woke up because he would never mentally recover from this if it was fake. “why do you keep staring at my home like that?” you whispered with a smile. “because im trying to see if im dreaming or not,” he said. “you’re holding my hand.” he said. “you’re actually holding my hand.” he smiled. “you’re on a date with me, and you’re holding my hand.” he could’ve burst into excitement if he wasn’t in a quiet movie theater. “you’re not dreaming.” you kissed his knuckles and he almost passed out. “see.”

“maybe i still don’t believe it.” you giggled , before you reached over kissing his cheek, leaving the boy shocked. “do you believe it now?” he nodded. “good because i don’t think there was anything else I could’ve done here in public that would’ve made you believe me.” you said. “well maybe if there was less people.” did you really say that? what did you mean by that? now he was thinking about other stuff. would you have touched him? in public?

the movie soon ended and you still hadn’t let him go even as you made your way to the ice cream shop to get your ice cream. “sorry we’re out of brownie ice cream.” the worker said. “really?” you frowned. “maybe you can get chocolate?” he said. “it’s not the same.” you said. “well we can stop to get some food since you didn’t eat anything at the movies.” he said , he really didn’t want this date to end. “or..” you started. “we can go to my apartment and i can make ramen.” your house? you were letting him in your house? “what do you say?” why would he fucking say no? “okay.”

the walk back to your apartment wasn’t that long , nether was the elevator to your apartment; but he soon found himself in your space, surrounded by your scent and all things you — this was his heaven. “haechan.” he heard you call him , which made him turn to you. he couldn’t even react before your lips were on his. your kiss was something he dreamt about often , your soft pillowy lips on his; your fingers working their way through his neck hairs. “wa-wait yn.” he pulled away before he got carried away. “as much as i love this , i definitely don’t want to do this just cause you feel bad.” he said. “no-no i want this.” you said. “i want this so much.” you said , and that was all the confirmation he needed. “then let me do it.”

he picked you up; taking you to your room , kicking the door open. “wan’ you go sit on my face.” he said. “fuck i need you to sit on my face.” he groaned , laying back. “i don’t want to hurt you.” he didn’t care; dying with his face stuffed between your legs seemed like his dream way to go. “no , no you won’t please.” he begged , pulling your skirt down , along with your panties , your wet was right there , he could smell your scent as you dripped for him. “please sit , please im gonna die if you don’t.” he grabbed your thighs desperately. “sit please.” you finally gave in , lowering yourself down , you could feel his tongue. “oh-oh hyuck.” you moaned , yelping as he impatiently pulled you down. “fuck!”

he wasted no time licking your folds , holding you by your waist like you’d run away if he didn’t , your hips involuntarily moved against his tongue , your hands coming to hair pulling at it. “fuck keep going.” you moaned. “just like that , im gonna cum!” he sucked on your clit , sending you over the edge. “oh my god!” you gasped your legs began to shake. “im cumming!”

the boy below opened his mouth , allowing your juices to flow straight into his mouth; drinking everything you had to give him; his cock begging to be freed and touched — tasting you wasn’t enough, he needed to be inside you. “hyuck i can’t - too much!” he finally let up on your poor cunt , but that doesn’t mean he was done. “i need you.” he moaned, kissing your thighs. “you have me.” you said , he flipped you over. “I need to fuck you , pl-please.” he pressed himself against your bare lower half. “pl-please hyuck.” you reached down , pulling at his pants , undoing the buttons. “please fuck me.”

he stood up quickly; not wanting to be away from you much longer , pulling his pants down , along with his underwear. “i-i don’t have a condom.” he said , you didn’t care right now. “are you clean?” he nodded , his aching cock standing in desperate need of attention. “then please touch me , please.”

he climbed back in between your legs. “fuck.” he cursed the moment his hip touched your soaking cunt. he knew he wasn’t gonna last long , but he knew he didn’t want to let you down. “It-it’s okay.” you touched his cock , slowly guiding it inside you. “oh fuck you’re so tight.” he had to compose himself. “fu-fuck i don’t think I’m gonna last.” he fully stilled himself inside you. “can i move?” you moaned. “please move hyuck.”

he grabbed your waist; moving. “oh-oh fuck you’re so big.” he groaned. “faster hyuck.” you whined. “please go faster.” he hissed as he picked up the pace , feeling you clench around him repeatedly. “fuck if you keep doing that , im gonna cum.” he said , his movements still remaining strong and fluid as his tip kissed your cervix over and over. “fuck im cumming.” he groaned ,his cock twitching inside you before he shot his load inside of you. “oh fuck im sorry.” he pulled out , finishing on your sensitive cunt. “sh-shit it’s okay.”

he definitely wasn’t about to leave you hanging; pushing his sensitive cock right back inside you. “fuck hyuck!” you screamed , your neighbors surely won’t be happy with you in the morning. “wanna make you cum.” he said , his hands planted on both sides of your head. “fuck hyuck keep going.” you moaned. “right there , im gonna cum.” he kept up his pace , soon your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you came. “oh fuck!” he felt himself cumming a second time , this time he didn’t pull out.

“i didn’t pull out.” he said breathlessly. “th-that’s okay.” you said. “we-we need to clean up.” you sat up , but he wasn’t done , now that he finally got a taste of you , he wanted it again , and again and again. “not yet.” he kissed your stomach. “i wanna do it.” your eyes followed his dark ones as he kissed and bit at your thighs. “wanna clean your pretty pussy myself.”

it was truly gonna be a long night for your neighbors.

“there he is at it again.” jaemin looked past you , making you turn around. “he can’t read a single room can it.” you watch the girls face turn beat red as the boy in front of him start a conversation. “she can’t either , can she not tell he’s not interested.” chenle spoke up. “excuse me.” you got up , the table was confused. “class?” jeno smirked , you shook your head. “no.” you walked away , straight over to the boy. “oh hi , you see these earrings?” you nodded at the clueless boy in front of you. “our 5 months is coming up , wouldn’t you like these?” the girl finally got the hint walking away. “wait what brand are they?” you dragged him back to the table. “I’ll find you a better pair.”

“and he still can’t see why she hated him?” jisung said. “I don’t need anymore jewelry ; we’ve been together 5 months and you’ve given me way more jewelry than i’ll ever need.” you said. “you’re right , i’ll just get you flowers.” you smiled , giving him a cheek kiss. “if that’s what you want hyuck.” he still stared at you with the same love sick look.

he was clueless and couldn’t read the room at all ; but he was yours… and you wouldn’t change him for the world.

©️LUVYENI

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Saying this as someone who's 37, likes to read physical books when they can, and fully understands the criticism that modern media is expecting increasingly short attention spans from it's audience...

I'll be real with you I was in the world's worst fit of adhd when I first wanted to watch the flash tv series as it was coming out, but I figured 'it's the flash, it'd be hilarious to watch at 2x speed..."

I was right. My commitment to the bit was rewarded. It was easier to sit though. I had a great time.

Problem,

I got used to watching TV at that speed and even started talking faster. My partner was not impressed.

I eventually got back to watching everything at normal speed, I was in my 20's at the time forgive me, but to this day sometimes I'll occasionally remember, when there's something I want to watch, especially on youtube, that's just going a little too slow or has some pacing issues, or I am willing to watch it for 15 minutes but not a half hour... I'll remember I can literally just make it go faster...

And I will shamelessly do that.

But the thing is that it's a lot like speed reading. You do it when you want to absorb the content for yourself, all of it, but aren't looking to savour something. There are lots of reasons to do this. People speed watch for a list of similar reasons to why some people sometimes opt to speed read. I think it's important we try not to judge.

But I do find it a little head tilt inducing when someone habitually watches everything they watch for enjoyment at 2x speed like that's just how they prefer to consume everything at all times.

Like there is a certain percentage of stuff you might expect to consume for the cultural reference, or to try to get into it when you aren't yet, or for the information and visuals but not the whole experience of sitting with it... But at some point you have to just spend less time consuming things just to consume them rather than for enjoyment?

My excuse is I have adhd and other quirks and CAN'T be medicated for them... I'm not sure what they're doing or why.

"good enough to watch at 1x speed" is a thing i see people occasionally mention on social media and it's always like. oh okay your perspective here is completely alien to mine. okay

[staytinyweeniebeanie]

"Are You Blushing?" A SKZ Imagine

Pairing(s): bf!SKZ x reader

Content: Fluff, Established Relationship

Warning(s): 18+ (MDNI), tooth-rotting fluff, I’m talking MAJOR simp levels here (it’s mutual), explicit language, allusions to getting freaky, one (1) bulge mention.

Word Count: 2k

Summary: A snippet of how you fluster bf!SKZ 

A/N: This all started with a little thought about Felix and those damn freckles, but it quickly grew into this whole imagine! I hope you enjoy and let me know if any of these would make you blush~

Banner credit to @enchanthings 

Chan

~Is it hot in here, or is it just you?~

Barefaced, curly hair, and comfy clothes is your favorite version of Chan and you’re quick to let him know this fact. “You know if you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple Channie” you wink exaggeratedly and shuffle your laptop over when he cuddles up next to you on his bed for a movie night.

Chan shakes his head and chuckles, “What are you trying to butter me up for, babygirl?”. You bat your eyelashes and shrug, “Just stating facts my love, you’re so handsome I can’t help myself.” 

‘Time to kick things up a notch’ you think and pretend to fan your face “Is it hot in here? Or is it just you?”. You’re delighted by the red flush that’s steadily taking over Chan’s face as he giggles, and you rack your brain for another line that’s sure to make him squirm.

“If you look this good in these clothes, you must look even better out of them?” you whisper into his ear. The effect is exactly what you hoped for, Chan’s face is completely red now and he’s full on laughing which sends you into a laughing fit as well. “Baby where did you get all of these pick-up lines from?” Chans asks.

“That’s for me to know and for you to never find out, my love” you say and press your lips to his for a sweet kiss. Chan doesn’t miss the chance to deepen it, teeth nipping your bottom lip and tongue sweeping past to soothe the sting. He kisses you until you're breathless and then separates just enough to say, “Now, what movie should we watch?” 

Minho

~Hungry? I ordered your favorite~

‘It’s just been a rough day, Jagi’ 

‘I didn’t mean to snap over the phone earlier’

‘I’m sorry.’ 

You look up from the text thread you have with your boyfriend when you hear the door to the apartment close and the shuffling of keys and shoes. A minute later, an exhausted Minho slinks into the living room and stops in his tracks when he spots you standing there waiting for him. 

“Hey Min,” you start hesitantly, “I know today was rough, so I had Sungie let me in earlier so I could take care of you”. You rub the back of your neck sheepishly and continue, “It wasn’t much, I just folded some laundry and tidied up a bit.”

Minho just stares at you, unblinking as your nervous rambling continues. 

“Oh! And I picked up some dinner from that place you like around the corner! I wanted to make something, but you threatened to feed me to the cats the last time I tried to cook in your kitchen.” 

Feeling awkward with the continued silence on Minho’s end, you shuffle your feet and meet his eyes. You think you spy a sheen of wetness, but strong arms sweep you up into a crushing hug before you can double-check. You sigh in relief and squeeze back just as hard. 

The two of you stand there, wrapped up in the warm embrace for several minutes, until you feel every bit of tension leak from Minho’s frame and he strokes a hand through your hair. 

“Thank you, Jagi” he whispers and cups your face in his hands. His eyes are impossibly soft as they gaze at you and his cheeks are dusted with pink. “And you’re right, you’re not allowed to cook for me ever again.”

Changbin

~You look a little tense, want a massage?~ 

Changbin just got out of the shower after a morning gym session with Chan and you already have him pressed against the bathroom counter. Steam curls in the air around you and fogs the mirror a bit, but you can see the way his cheeks grow redder by the second as your hands snake their way up his sides and towards his chest. 

“L-Lovie, what are you doing?” Changbin stutters. You peek over his shoulder and watch your reflection as you squeeze his pecs, grinning when your dwaekki squeals. “I bet you’re sore, Binnie-baby, I wanna help you relax with a massage.” you purr into his red little ears. 

“I have been lifting heavier recently…” he murmurs. With a quick kiss to his hot cheek, you go back to your “massaging”. Changbin’s skin is still damp and slippery from the shower so your hands glide easily across his skin. You take your time, slowly kneading up his back while Changbin grunts and groans. You slip your hands around to his tummy and can’t resist grabbing and squeezing again. 

“Ah! What kind of massage is this?” Changbin whines loudly, but just as he’s opening his mouth to complain again, your sneaky fingers undo the towel that’s wrapped tightly around his waist and begin creeping south. 

“You don’t like it?” you pout and move as if you’re pulling away. Strong hands grab your wrists immediately as Changbin tugs your hands back to where they were, “Wait lovie, please! Keep going!” 

Hyunjin

~Can I do your makeup?~ 

Gentle music plays from your phone and the fairy lights strewn around your bedroom plus your favorite candle burning create an intimate and cozy atmosphere. You flutter around excitedly, gathering all the makeup items you need to give your boyfriend a makeover.

“I’m going to make you look like a fairy prince!” you chirp and climb into his lap, already reaching for a primer. “I don’t doubt it, my princess” Hyunjin smiles and rests his hands on your hips, eyes closing as he leans back against the headboard and enjoys your gentle touch. 

A comfortable silence follows, just the soft notes of your background music and the rustling of the sheets as you work your magic. You grab a colorful eyeshadow palette and grin, “Now for the exciting part! Look at me Hyunjinnie?” 

Hyunjin hums an affirmative and opens his eyes, making direct eye contact with you. This close, he can feel the soft puff of your breath on his lips, could count every eyelash as you concentrate on whatever you’re doing, and he feels his heart skip a beat. You’re just so pretty up close in this soft lighting, and the proximity plus your intense focus on him has his cheeks flushing. 

You take a moment to check your work but immediately throw your head back and laugh, “Hyunjin! I haven't even put any blush on you yet!”

Jisung

~How many licks does it take to get to the center?~

A crash can be heard from the other room, followed by a string of curses, then thundering footsteps rapidly draw closer. “Babycakes have you seen my-” Jisung trails off and his eyes widen as he takes in the scene in front of him. 

“Seen what, sweet cheeks?” You tilt your head and give him your best innocent look from where you’re sitting on the kitchen counter with your favorite flavor lollipop dangling from your mouth. You drag it out ever so slowly with a pop, then put it right back inside and swirl your tongue around the candy obscenely. You hum happily and admire your boyfriend’s dumbstruck expression.

Even from several feet away you can see the blush spread across his cheeks and a growing bulge in Jisung’s pants. ‘Hook, line, and sinker’ you smugly think to yourself, ‘The studio will have to wait.’

“Fuck babycakes, I don’t even remember what I was looking for,” Jisung groans and quickly makes his way over to you. In a blink his hands grip your thighs and he shoves himself between them. Big round eyes, half-lidded already, meet yours as he grabs the lollipop stick and tugs it free from your mouth. 

“Can I have a taste?”

Felix

~Did you know freckles are also called angel kisses?~

Shrieks and giggles echo around the apartment as you chase your boyfriend into the living room and tackle him onto the couch. “Just let me show you, Lixie!” 

“Never!” he cries and attempts to wiggle out from under you.

A short tickle fight ensues until, “Okay! Okay, I believe you, mercy please!” You grin triumphantly down at Felix and settle your weight on his hips to keep him pinned. Truthfully, he could get away if he wanted to, but you both know Felix loves when you manhandle him a bit.

“Stay still, I have to make sure I get every single freckle,” you say as you rain kisses across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, loud and obnoxious on purpose to make him giggle and draw that big toothy smile again. You move up to his forehead, followed by each eyelid gently, then the tip of his cute nose. Finally, you press your lips to his softly for a chaste peck once, twice, three times and his lips chase yours as you pull away.

“I think you got every one, angel,” Felix’s eyes shine with adoration as they look up into yours, his cheeks flushed the most beautiful shade of pink and his glossy black hair a mess on the cushions beneath him. 

But the longer you admire him, the more a devilish smirk starts to take over and he casts his gaze down his body slowly, “On my face at least. I think you might have missed a few down here though… Let’s check just to be sure.”

Seungmin

~Did you get my note?~

“How many of these did you hide in my room sweetheart?” Seungmin’s voice is muffled from where he’s digging through his closet. “This is the last one Minnie, maybe you should check the hoodie I left you?” you giggle and flip onto your stomach, stretching out across your hotel bed.

Sure enough, Seungmin pulls out a pink origami heart from the pocket. He comes back to his desk where his propped up phone displays your face, and rolls his eyes as he drops the note in front of you. “How can you be so annoying from so far away?” 

His grumpy act doesn’t last long, a small smile creeps onto his handsome face while deft fingers undo the heart. He reads the note slowly, then glances at you and reads it again. Your eyes are glued to the screen of your phone and you watch the prettiest pink blush spread across your boyfriend’s cheeks.

“All it takes is me confessing my undying love to make you blush, puppy?” you coo. “Shut it!” Seungmin groans and hides his face behind his hands. You can’t help but cackle at how shy your boyfriend gets when you’re being sappy. 

After a few moments Seungmin lowers his hands and reluctantly meets your eyes through the screen, “I love and miss you too, your flight leaves in the morning, right?”. 

“Yeah,” you sigh happily, “Can’t wait to see my puppy.”  

Jeongin

~Is that my shirt?~

Soft morning light filters through the curtains and as quietly as you can, you slip from the sleep-mussed sheets and look around for something to wear. You huff at the mess of yours and Jeongin’s clothes strewn around your room and just pull on the first shirt you see and some fresh panties. 

Jeongin is still snoozing away peacefully and you can’t help but take a moment to admire his fluffy hair and the marks you left on him after your wild night together. ‘A performance like that deserves a feast for breakfast’ you think to yourself.

You’ve only got the coffee started and the rice washed and in the rice cooker before your sleepy boyfriend shuffles into the kitchen. You turn away from the sink to find Jeongin, in just his sweatpants, frozen in place as he looks you up and down. Legs bare, hair messy, and he can make out the edge of his bite mark on your inner thigh where it’s peeking out from under the hem of his shirt.   

“Hey Honey-Bun, how’d you sleep- WHOA!” Jeongin has crossed the room and scooped you up into his arms before you can even finish. You scramble to wrap your legs around his waist as he quickly makes his way back to the bedroom. “What are you doing?!” you screech.

You’re tossed onto the bed and you stare wide-eyed as Jeongin’s flushed face and heated eyes come closer. “I think I’ll have breakfast in bed, baby…”  

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed my first SKZ fic, and happy birthday Yang Jeongin!

All writing content created here belongs to me (@staytinyweeniebeanie) and I do not consent to my work being reposted on other platforms without permission!

Reblogs and Comments are always welcome and highly appreciated!

[pbaz7]

FLIGHT 2136: PART 2

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content

word count: 12.8k

A/N: Whewww. This was a little fun but also a little stressful to write. It’s a little different from what I’ve done. I feel like I wanna make this a few more parts lowkey🫣. Please let me know what you think and leave live reacts if you can 🫶🏼🫶🏼 Also I rushed a little so let me know if I made mistakes lol

—————————————————————————

3rd Person POV - Thursday

The energy in the gym was steady, the familiar rhythm of shootaround settling everyone into their pregame routines. UConn’s team moved through drills under CD’s watchful eye, the absence of Geno noted but not dwelled upon much. It wasn’t unusual for him to step away, and CD kept everything running just as smoothly in his place.

Azzi focused on her shots, the repetition grounding her as she moved from mid-range to three-point territory. The sound of sneakers squeaking and basketballs bouncing filled the air, teammates calling out to each other as they cycled through drills. It felt like any other game day prep. The energy was great, everyone was excited. Then Geno walked in.

Azzi’s eyes flicked toward the entrance automatically, expecting to see him stride in alone. Instead, he wasn’t alone.

Paige was with him.

Azzi paused mid-shot, the ball bouncing off the rim as her brows pulled together. Across the court, Geno and Paige spoke casually, their body language familiar. They weren’t just exchanging pleasantries—this was a conversation that carried a purpose.

Next to her, KK caught the shift in Azzi’s focus and followed her gaze.

"Why is Paige Bueckers here?" KK asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

Azzi turned her head slightly. "You know her?"

KK gave her a look like the question was ridiculous. "You don't?"

Azzi’s expression remained blank.

KK scoffed. "Girl, boo. I forgot you don’t ever watch the sport we play.” She shook her head before continuing. “Paige was one of the top players in the country in high school. From Minnesota. She could’ve gone anywhere she wanted. UConn wanted her bad—but then she kinda just… disappeared. Didn’t commit anywhere on signing day.”

Azzi’s gaze was still locked on the other side of the court, where Geno and Paige had now settled onto the bench chairs, talking still. Paige was nodding at something Geno said as she stared ahead, seemingly just looking at the opposite wall.

Azzi shifted on her feet, arms crossing slightly. “And now she’s here. With Geno.”

"Right," KK echoed, before smirking. “Maybe she’s your competition.”

Azzi didn’t look away from Paige as she said, “If anything, she’s your competition.”

KK turned to her, eyebrows raising high at the comment. “What are you talking about?”

Azzi finally glanced at her. “She’s a point guard.”

KK gave her a look, silently asking how she knew that.

Azzi just shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips, as if she was saying, Don’t worry about it.

KK scoffed but didn’t press further, turning back to the drill as their turn approached. Azzi followed suit, refocusing on her shot, but the energy in the gym had shifted.

The rest of the team, while going through the motions, kept stealing glances toward the other side of the court. Even CD, usually unshakable in her focus, seemed slightly aware of the presence of Geno and Paige, though she didn’t acknowledge it outright.

Azzi stole one last glance toward the two of them. Paige was leaning forward slightly now, elbows resting on her knees, nodding along to whatever Geno was saying. There was something about her demeanor—poised but entirely at ease—that kept Azzi’s attention longer than she intended.

“Yo, Azzi pay attention,” Ice called, bouncing the ball toward her.

Azzi caught it smoothly, exhaling through her nose. “Yeah, yeah.”

Once shoot-around was over and CD finished speaking with the girls Geno walked toward them with his usual commanding presence, but this time, all eyes were drawn to the taller figure trailing just behind him. Paige moved with an easy confidence, hands tucked into the pockets of her sweats, her expression unreadable as she just stared ahead at nothing in particular.

Azzi barely registered the murmurs spreading through the team when her eyes locked onto Paige’s. And for the first time since their conversations, Paige didn’t wear that usual smirk. Instead, there was something quieter, more measured, in the way she held her gaze. Azzi could practically see the questions flying through her own mind reflected back at Paige—What are you doing here? Why didn’t you say anything?

The confusion hung in the air until Geno cut straight through it. “Paige is here unofficially on a visit,” he announced, his tone gruff, leaving little room for argument. “She’s just here watching the game today since we can’t do anything official with her during the season.”

A ripple of uncertainty moved through the team. Visits happened, sure—but not like this. Not during the middle of the season. And definitely not for someone with the kind of presence Paige had just walking into the gym.

The silence stretched before Nika finally spoke up, respectful but with a tinge of frustration. “Coach, we already have a point guard for next season.”

Azzi’s eyes flickered back to Paige just in time to see her take a deep breath, her shoulders squaring as if she had already braced herself for this exact reaction. She didn’t look surprised though. God Azzi hated how stoic she could be, she can never get a good read on her.

The tension in the gym thickened slightly as Nika’s words settled. Some of their glances jumping between Nika and KK. Paige stayed composed, her expression not changing much, but Azzi noticed the way her fingers twitched slightly in her pockets, as if resisting the urge to react or say something.

Geno didn’t miss a beat in his response. “Nika’s leaving after this season,” he stated plainly, his tone making it clear this wasn’t about to be a conversation up for debate. “We need an older guard to help guide KK next season because she isn’t where we need her to be just yet.

Azzi’s eyes immediately flickered to Nika, whose jaw tensed at the comment. She didn’t say anything—didn’t need to—but the slight shift in her stance spoke volumes. She prided herself on being KK’s mentor, on leading the backcourt the best she could. The idea that Geno thought they needed someone else didn’t sit right with her.

But before anyone could voice anything further, Geno sighed, sensing the weight in the room. “Look, nothing is official,” he added, glancing around. “South Carolina, LSU, USC, Minnesota, and a few others all want her to visit, too. They all jumped at the chance once they heard she was transferring.”

That got a reaction. Some players exchanged looks, while others side-eyed Paige, as if reassessing her entirely. It wasn’t just UConn she was considering—it was powerhouse programs across the country.

Paige, for her part, remained unreadable, her expression neutral as she took the reaction in stride. Her not saying a word the entire time only fueled people’s confusion. But Azzi wasn’t confused. She actually found it kind of funny that Paige had this whole silent thing going on. There was something deliberate about the way Paige stood there, hands still in her pockets, gaze steady.

Geno had a small grin as he glanced at Paige before turning his attention back to the team and let out a clap. “We’ll talk more later,” he said simply. “For now, go do what you need to do.”

Despite the dismissal, the tension lingered. Eyes darted between Paige and Geno, and then toward Azzi, as if searching for some kind of answer from their leader.

Paige, still unreadable, finally exhaled through her nose before offering the team a small smile.

The team started dispersing, but the tension still lingered in the air.

Behind them, Nika scoffed under her breath. “We don’t even know if she’s as good as she used to be,” she muttered, just loud enough for those nearby to hear.

Azzi’s head snapped in her direction, her eyes sharp as she simply said, “Nika.”

It wasn’t loud, but the weight behind it was enough. A quiet warning. A reminder of how they were supposed to carry themselves.

Nika’s jaw tightened, and for a second, it looked like she might push back. But then, she exhaled through her nose, muttering a half-hearted, “Sorry,” before turning and heading toward the locker room.

Azzi watched her go before glancing toward Paige again. If she had heard, she didn’t show it. Her hands were still tucked in her pockets, her posture still easy, but there was something in her eyes—something flickering beneath the surface as she looked around the gym.

Azzi wasn’t sure why, but she felt the need to say something. Instead, she just pressed her lips together and turned back toward the court.

Azzi felt Paige’s gaze linger on her, but she didn’t turn back. She could still feel the weight of it, like Paige was trying to piece something together—trying to figure her out the same way Azzi had been doing since the moment she sat next to her on the plane.

Paige didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. There was a moment, brief but charged as they made eye contact again before Geno clapped a hand on her back, breaking the silence. Without hesitation, Paige stuffed her hands back into her pockets and followed him, her steps unhurried as they made their way toward the tunnel.

Azzi finally let out a slow breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

She wasn’t sure what had just passed between them.

After shooting around a little more Azzi sat alone in the locker room, earbuds in, her mind wasn’t really on the upcoming game. The energy with the team had been a little off ever since Paige showed up, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that things were shifting in a way she didn’t quite understand yet.

She barely noticed when the door to the locker room opened, only looking up when Geno took a seat in the empty locker next to hers.

Azzi hesitated for a moment before pulling out her earbuds. “What’s up, Coach?”

Geno didn’t waste time. “I need you to make her feel comfortable on this visit.”

Azzi blinked, sitting up a little straighter. She gave him a nod, but Geno could tell she wasn’t fully processing what he was saying.

So he continued. “Look, Azzi. You came here to win a championship right?…We’ve come up short, and I know injuries and everything else have played a part in that. But I think Paige is the piece we need.”

Azzi stayed quiet, her expression unreadable.

“And Lord knows,” Geno added with a gruff sigh, “if one of those other schools gets her, it’s gonna be hell come March for us next season.”

Azzi chewed the inside of her cheek, finally breaking eye contact. She knew he was right. She’d seen how close they’d come before, only to fall short. And she wasn’t interested in going through that again.

Still, she wasn’t oblivious. She knew this wouldn’t go over smoothly with the whole team.

Geno, as if reading her mind, continued, “Some feelings are gonna be hurt. Someone will probably get pushed to the bench. That’s just how this works. But if you want to win.”

Azzi took a deep breath before nodding again, this time with more certainty. “I got it, don't worry about it.”

Geno studied her for a second, making sure the words actually sank in. She met his gaze, and there was something there—understanding, maybe even acceptance.

“I mean it,” he said, his tone softening to the best of his abilities. “She’s been through a lot, and this isn’t exactly an easy situation for her either.”

Azzi exhaled, rolling her shoulders before leaning back against the locker. “I got it, Coach.”

Geno gave a small nod and stood up, but before he left, he paused. “And Azzi?”

She looked up.

“You’re a leader on this team. People follow your lead more than you realize. If you’re welcoming, they’ll follow.”

Azzi let that sit for a second before nodding again.

Geno didn’t say anything else. He just patted her shoulder before walking out, leaving Azzi alone with her thoughts.

Some time later a few players were scattered around the court, lounging around and talking to one another as they passed the time before tip-off. Azzi sat near the baseline, stretching absentmindedly, when her eyes landed on Paige.

Paige had just settled behind the team’s bench, scrolling through her phone, seemingly completely unbothered by the noise around her. She looked comfortable, her posture relaxed, legs spread open as her fingers idly flicked at the screen.

Azzi watched for a moment before making a decision. Pushing herself up, she made her way toward Paige, hands tucked into the pockets of her warmups. She wasn’t sure why, but she wanted to talk to her again. Maybe it was because of what Geno had said earlier. Maybe it was simply because Paige intrigued her.

Whatever it was, Paige must have noticed her approaching because she locked her phone and slid it into her pocket before looking up. She smirked slightly.

“Paige Bueckers, huh?” Azzi said, settling into the seat next to her.

Paige’s smirk grew. “So you know my last name now.”

Azzi shrugged. “You could’ve just told me.”

Paige let out a small chuckle. “Your coach didn’t want me to. And where’s the fun in that?”

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully but didn’t push it. Instead, she leaned back, her tone turning casual. “So, Minnesota, huh?”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you’re leading with?”

Azzi shrugged again. “Just putting the pieces together. KK told me you were one of the top players in the country.”

Paige hummed. “She say anything else?”

Azzi smiled a little. “She said you fell off the face of the earth.”

Paige chuckled, nodding slowly. “I guess that’s not entirely wrong in a sense.”

Azzi studied her for a moment before speaking again. “So, why now? Why transfer?”

Paige exhaled, glancing down at her hands before looking back at Azzi. “I just… needed a change. And your coach thinks UConn might be the right fit.”

Azzi didn’t push for more. Instead, she shifted slightly, her voice lighter. “You know, some of the girls aren’t too happy about it.”

Paige smirked. “Yeah, I picked up on that. He warned me though.”

Azzi gave her a look. “You don’t seem too worried.”

Paige leaned back, mirroring Azzi’s posture. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

Azzi couldn’t help but grin at that. “Cocky.”

Paige’s smirk deepened. “Confident.”

Azzi shook her head but didn’t argue. Instead, she glanced toward the court, watching some of teammates mess around before looking back at Paige. “You’re gonna have to prove yourself, you know.”

Paige met her gaze, something unreadable in her expression. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Azzi held her stare for a moment longer before nodding in approval. “Good.”

Just as she was about to stand, something clicked in her mind. “Wait,” she said, tilting her head. “Didn’t you say you’ve always been a South Carolina fan?”

Paige chuckled, seemingly amused that Azzi remembered. “I did.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “So, are they in the lead?”

Paige hummed, leaning back in her seat. “I wouldn’t say so.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes slightly. “Why not?”

Paige shrugged. “Probably won’t be the best fit for me.”

Azzi crossed her arms, intrigued. “But UConn is?”

Paige, still a woman of few words, simply smirked. “Guess we’ll see today.”

Azzi chuckled at that, shaking her head. “The pressure’s on now.”

Paige lifted an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. “I didn’t know you needed to make a good impression.”

Azzi met her gaze, her smirk matching Paige’s. “I don’t.”

Paige held her stare for a moment before letting out a soft laugh. “Touché.”

Azzi smirked, leaning back slightly in her seat. “So, what I’m basically hearing is… UConn has the lead?”

Paige exhaled a small laugh, tilting her head. “I never said that.”

Azzi raised a brow. “Didn’t deny it either.”

Paige shook her head, amusement filling her eyes. “I think you just like hearing what you want.”

Azzi grinned. “Maybe. But I’m just good at reading between the lines.”

Paige hummed, as if considering that before saying. “Or you just like making assumptions.”

Azzi gave a casual shrug. “Only when I think I’m right.”

Paige scoffed playfully, but before she could fire back, Aaliyah’s voice rang out from the court.

“Azzi! Come here for a sec!”

Azzi exhaled through her nose before standing, shooting Paige one last smile. “I’ll find you after the game.”

Paige met her gaze. “Don’t lose.”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head as she started walking backward toward the court. “Not an option now apparently.”

Paige simply smiled, watching her go.

…

The game was everything UConn had hoped for. From the moment the ball tipped, Azzi was on fire, playing with a confidence that had been building all season. Notre Dame threw everything they could at her, doubling her, trying to trap her at every turn—but Azzi was always one step ahead. She made the right pass every time, finding the open player, setting up easy shots. The crowd at Gampel Pavilion was electric as they watched it unfold.

Azzi’s movement on the court was effortless, weaving between defenders with a fluidity that made it look like the game was moving in slow motion for her. She was every bit the player UConn had hoped she would be when they recruited her, and more. The more Notre Dame scrambled to contain her, the easier it seemed for UConn to build momentum.

Paige, perched behind the team’s bench, watched intently. Her expression remained calm, the competitive fire inside her barely visible. She was invested in every play, every pass, but she kept her reactions minimal, only letting a subtle smile flicker across her face when Azzi nailed yet another perfect assist or hit an impossible shot.

The contrast between the intensity of Azzi on the court and Paige's quiet focus off it. Azzi was in her element, dominating, and Paige was soaking it all in, her quiet appreciation almost as loud as the roars from the crowd. She wasn’t cheering, she wasn’t jumping out of her seat like everyone else, but her eyes—watching Azzi—told a different story. As she watched though, there was no doubt in her mind that UConn needed another leader. Needed a point guard. Bad. If Azzi wasn’t in the game the ball was stagnant, and the offense was choppy. Paige could tell Geno saw it too because within a minute or two he was always pushing Azzi back to the scorers table to check in.

When the buzzer sounded, securing UConn’s win, the crowd erupted into cheers. Azzi’s performance had stolen the show, and as she jogged off the court, a smile tugged at her lips.

After an on court interview Azzi walked over to Paige, her usual confidence still evident, but there was a slight hint of curiosity in her voice as she leaned in. “So?” she asked, arms casually crossed as she leaned against one of the chairs.

Paige glanced up at her, offering a playful chuckle. “You were good.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, clearly looking for more than just a simple acknowledgment. “Good?”

Paige nodded, her smile never quite leaving her face. “Good.”

Azzi, sensing she wasn’t going to get much more than that, gave a small laugh. She leaned back a little, changing gears. “Alright then. You should come out with us tonight to celebrate.”

Paige hesitated. “That’s not really my scene,” she replied, shrugging slightly.

Azzi didn’t let up, her gaze soft but persistent. “You don’t want to get to know the team?”

Paige still wasn’t convinced, and Azzi could see the indecision on her face. She leaned in a little, her tone coaxing. “Come on. If you're genuinely considering coming here, they have to see that you aren’t as bad as they think.”

Paige’s eyes narrowed, picking up on the subtle words at the end. “What’d they say?”

Azzi shook her head, brushing it off quickly. “It doesn’t matter, it isn’t true.”

Paige raised an eyebrow at her, unconvinced. “Is it?” she asked.

Azzi gave a slight, dismissive shake of her head. “No. Not at all. And they can find out if you come out with us tonight.”

Paige let out a soft exhale, thinking it over. Finally, she gave a small nod. “Alright.”

Azzi grinned widely at her success. “Perfect. You can meet us at our dorm when you’re ready.”

Paige chuckled, glancing away. “I’ll just meet you wherever we’re going after I stop by my hotel.”

Azzi squinted playfully, not fully trusting the plan but deciding to go along with it. “Fine, but give me your number so I can text you when we’re heading out.”

Paige gave her a bemused look. “You can just give me yours.”

Azzi shook her head firmly. “Nope.”

Paige laughed. “Why not?”

Azzi's grin widened. “That gives you too much control over the situation. If you’re going to be on my team, you need to learn to let that control go... just a little bit.”

Paige’s laugh was warm, a little more genuine this time. She grabbed a piece of paper off of the scorers table writing her number on it before handing it to Azzi. “There. Happy?”

Azzi took it, her smile broadening. “Very. See you later.”

Paige just chuckled as she watched Azzi walk away.

…

Azzi was sitting at her desk, applying a little mascara in front of her mirror, the quiet buzz of her room filling the space when Caroline’s voice broke through the stillness.

“So, how do you know Paige already?” Caroline asked.

Azzi didn't look up, focusing on her lashes, but her answer was casual. “I don’t... well, not really. She was on my flight from DC.”

Caroline’s gaze flickered a little with suspicion. “On your flight? You guys talked a lot today, though.”

Azzi shrugged nonchalantly. “Geno told me to make her feel comfortable. He wants her to come here.”

Caroline gave a knowing glance, her eyebrow arching. “That’s all?”

Azzi shot her a look, but still replied with a quiet, “Yeah, pretty much.”

Caroline didn’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh. Sure, that’s all.”

Azzi chuckled lightly, shifting in her seat. “What do you mean Car?”

Caroline grinned, crossing her arms. “I mean, you were talking to her a lot today…and she’s your type.”

Azzi turned a gave her a pointed look, shaking her head. “I don’t have a type. I barely even talk to girls these days.”

Caroline raised an eyebrow at her, clearly unconvinced. “That’s because you’re particular. Still, the few you do talk to...you like tall blondes Azzi. Especially ones with the kind of vibe Paige seems to give off.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, trying to brush it off, but didn’t offer a rebuttal. Caroline smirked as she pressed, “You aren’t denying it.”

Azzi took a deep breath, trying to hold back her smile. “She’s just... interesting. That’s all. I’m trying to figure her out.”

Caroline leaned in a little closer. “Yeah, because you want to sleep with her.”

Azzi’s jaw dropped, her face incredulous. “I do not.”

Caroline simply shrugged as her smile grew. “Yes, you do.”

Azzi sighed, exhaling slowly. She opened her mouth to say something but then stopped herself, unsure of what to say next. There was a moment of silence before Caroline spoke again, this time a little more matter-of-fact.

“Look, if you’re going to sleep with her, just do it before we officially maybe become teammates with the girl.”

Azzi was about to respond when the door to her room cracked open, and Aaliyah’s head popped in. “You guys ready?” she asked, clearly eager to get going.

Azzi immediately stood up, thankful for the interruption. “Yup, let’s go,” she said, flashing a grin at Caroline as she grabbed her jacket.

Azzi quickly shot a text to Paige, her fingers flying over the screen. As she sent the address and a simple We’re heading out. She hit send, not thinking much of it, but Caroline caught a glimpse of her phone screen.

"Do it before she's your teammate," Caroline simply said again.

Azzi immediately pushed her playfully, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “Shut up,” she mumbled, shaking her head.

Caroline only laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, it’s not like you’ll get another shot after this.” She wiggled her eyebrows, but Azzi rolled her eyes again, determined to ignore her teasing.

“Seriously, shut up,” Azzi repeated, trying to keep her composure, though there was a hint of color rising in her cheeks.

Caroline chuckled but said no more, knowing she was getting a rise out of Azzi. “Alright, alright. Let’s go,” she said, grabbing her keys and heading out of the suite.

Azzi followed behind her, her phone vibrating in her back pocket. She pulled it out seeing a simple bet from Paige.

…

Later that night when Paige walked into Ted’s, Azzi immediately noticed the change in her. The sweats and hoodie she’d worn earlier were gone. She wore bright yellow pants that caught the light and a slightly oversized black t-shirt. The simple glistening chain with a cross around her neck caught Azzi's eye, and the silver rings on her fingers and tennis bracelet on her wrist added to the look. Her hair was pulled back into a bun.

Azzi swallowed a little too hard, her gaze lingering on Paige's figure as she took in the transformation. It was like the girl who had been sitting behind the bench earlier had completely disappeared. This version of Paige was undeniably captivating, and Azzi felt a tightening in her chest she couldn’t quite explain.

Caroline, standing next to Azzi, seemed to notice her moment of hesitation and leaned in with a whisper-sung tease. “Just get it over with.”

Azzi shot her a look, eyes narrowing, but Caroline only grinned, clearly entertained by her friend’s unease. Before Azzi could respond, Paige approached, and the air between them shifted instantly.

Azzi’s smile widened, trying to hide her discomfort. “You made it,” she said warmly.

Paige smiled slightly, that same quiet and mysterjous energy radiating off her. “I did.”

Caroline cleared her throat, catching Azzi’s attention and prompting her to step back into the moment. “Oh, sorry,” Azzi mumbled before gesturing to the two women. “Paige, this is Caroline. Caroline, Paige.”

Paige extended her hand to shake Caroline’s. “Nice to meet you,” she said, her voice smooth.

Azzi suddenly became hyper-aware of the exchange, watching the way their hands met, the simple contact sending a jolt through her. Something about seeing them shake hands, so effortless, so casual, made her realize just how little physical contact she and Paige had shared. It wasn’t like it mattered—it wasn’t like she wanted to initiate anything—but the realization sent an odd feeling coursing through her veins. Something about the way their hands lingered for just a moment too long in the handshake.

Azzi quickly shook the feeling off, pushing it down, forcing herself to focus on the rest of the group gathered around the bar and away from the tension she felt creeping up between her and Paige. She was overthinking this, wasn’t she?

After the introduction with Caroline, Azzi led Paige around the room, introducing her to some of the team. It was a quick but necessary round of introductions, and the rest of the UConn players seemed to size Paige up in their own way, each offering their hand or a warm smile. Most were welcoming, eager to make her feel part of the group.

First, Azzi introduced her to Aubrey, who gave Paige a friendly nod. “Good to have you here,” she said, her voice upbeat, as she shook Paige’s hand.

“Thanks,” Paige replied, returning the handshake with ease. Her smile was soft but genuine, and Azzi was hoping this would make her a little less tense.

Next up was Nika, who eyed Paige cautiously but still offered a handshake. She didn’t say much, just a short, “Nice to meet you,” before looking away, clearly trying not to make the encounter too awkward. Paige caught the tension, but she didn’t let it faze her. Instead, she just gave Nika a polite smile, nodding.

Azzi caught the brief exchange and couldn’t help but notice the slight distance between the two.

As Azzi watched Paige interact with the rest of the team, she couldn’t help but notice something else—Paige smelled incredible. The subtle yet unmistakable scent of jasmine and vanilla mixed in the air every time Paige moved. It was the kind of fragrance that lingered just enough to be noticed but not so much that it was overwhelming to someone’s nose. Azzi took a deep breath, trying to focus on something else, but it was hard not to be aware of the way the scent seemed to wrap itself around her, settling into her senses in a way that made her feel just a little warmer.

After the introductions were done, Azzi led Paige over to the bar. She glanced at Paige, who was walking beside her with that effortless cool she always seemed to radiate.

As they approached the bar, Azzi’s thoughts were interrupted by Caroline who whispered, “Just get it over with” as she walked by. Azzi shot her a warning look.

“Shut the hell up,” Azzi muttered back, before turning her attention to Paige, who was already ordering a drink at the bar.

Azzi leaned against the bar, the dim lighting of the room casting soft shadows over her face as she watched Paige closely. There was something different about her tonight—something that Azzi couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Azzi leaned in just slightly, her voice carrying over the light music that was playing. “So, what’s been the most interesting thing you’ve seen here so far?” Azzi asked, trying to get Paige to open up, sensing that Paige didn’t volunteer information without being nudged.

Paige, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass, shrugged just slightly. “Not sure. Everyone’s... a lot different than I expected.” Her voice was softer than usual, but it was clear she wasn’t uncomfortable. She was just more observant, taking everything in around her.

Azzi smiled, her eyes narrowing playfully as she took in Paige’s response. “Different how?” she pressed, wanting to hear more.

Paige glanced over at her, her lips curling into the slightest smile. “They’re... more relaxed, I guess. You’d think they’d be more intense, you know? I mean, I know they’re all good, but...” Her words trailed off, her voice almost contemplative. She didn’t finish her thought, leaving it hanging between them as they settled into silence for a second.

Azzi took the opportunity to study Paige a little more closely, sensing that something was off. There was a quiet intensity in her, like she was letting everything wash over her without reacting.

Azzi couldn’t help but feel drawn to it, but there was still something about it that made her curious.

“So,” Azzi said after a beat, breaking the silence that had settled between them. “I feel like you’re a little more hesitant tonight. What’s that about?” Her tone was teasing, but it was laced with an underlying curiosity.

Paige, who had been lost in her thoughts, snapped back to the present moment and glanced at Azzi. There was a flicker of a smile on her lips, but it was subtle. “I’m just listening to what you’re saying,” she responded with a quiet chuckle, her gaze meeting Azzi’s for just a second before looking down at her drink.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a little taken aback by the response. She wasn’t used to Paige being so... still. There was always this confident energy about her, even when she was quiet. But tonight, it felt like Paige was holding back just a little bit. It wasn’t discomfort—it was something else.

Azzi chuckled softly. “Ah, so it’s all about me, huh?”

Paige smirked, but there was something in her eyes, something that Azzi couldn’t quite place. “I wouldn’t say that,” Paige replied, her tone barely audible, but there was an edge to it—something that felt almost playful, despite the calm exterior.

Azzi leaned back, still studying Paige. “Hmm... well, you’re still quieter than usual,” she said, her smile softening, though her eyes remained curious. “Which, considering you're already a woman of few words, says a lot.”

Paige smiled a little, a flicker of humor in her eyes. “I promise I’m just listening to what you’re saying,” she said again, as though it were a simple explanations

Azzi wasn’t buying it. She noticed how closed off Paige was tonight, at least compared to what she was used to. She leaned in a little, her voice turning more serious. “Can I ask you something?” Azzi’s tone was more purposeful and she watched Paige closely.

Paige glanced at her, a silent invitation to continue.

Azzi hesitated for a brief moment, then spoke, her voice quieter now. “It’s a little personal.”

Paige met her gaze and gave a small nod, giving Azzi the unspoken go-ahead. “Go ahead,” she said, her eyes steady on Azzi’s.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But what happened during your senior year? You kind of…”fell off the face of the earth” in KK’s words.” Her tone wasn’t judgmental, just curious, like she was trying to understand a part of Paige that remained untold.

Paige chuckled lightly, her eyes shifting away as if she were weighing the decision to answer. For a moment, she studied Azzi, considering whether or not to open up. Then, with a quiet breath, she simply replied, “Car accident.”

Azzi’s eyes softened immediately. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice laced with genuine concern.

Paige gave a quick shake of her head, brushing it off. “It’s fine. I’m alive, aren’t I?” she said, her words light, almost like she was trying to ease the heaviness of the moment. She let out a soft chuckle, her eyes flicking to the side briefly.

After a pause, she continued, her voice quieter now, almost reflective. “It wasn’t bad for me. I just needed to stay close to home to help my family out.”

Azzi hummed thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing in admiration. “That’s sweet of you,” she said, her voice softening with a touch of warmth.

Paige picked up her drink, taking a slow sip as she looked over at Azzi with a faint smile trying to shift the conversation. “Is that what I am now? Sweet?” she asked, her tone teasing Azzi a little.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I don’t know... are you?” she replied, leaning back just slightly, her eyes locking with Paige’s.

Paige smirked, her lips curving slightly. “Maybe sometimes,” she replied, the words filled with a touch of intrigue, leaving just enough unsaid to keep Azzi on her toes.

The two of them stood in that quiet moment, the subtle tension between them hanging in the air. Neither of them looked away, letting the silence linger.

Just as the moment grew heavier, a burst of energy interrupted, as KK bounded over to Azzi, her arm instantly slinging around her.

Azzi laughed, shaking her head as she looked away from Paige with a slight smile. “Hi, KK,” she said.

“You over here chatting up my replacement?” KK’s voice was full of playful accusation, but everyone could tell she was joking.

Azzi playfully rolls her eyes as she looks at KK. “She’s a little too quiet to be your replacement KK.”

KK raised an eyebrow and looked over at Paige, her gaze scanning her briefly before she leaned in with a grin. “You quiet Bueckers?” she asked.

Paige let out a soft laugh, glancing at Azzi before meeting KK’s eyes. “I can be. Depends on the person I guess” she said, her tone carrying a hint of amusement, as though suggesting there was more to her than met the eye.

KK smiled, satisfied with the response. “Well, looks like you two are chatting just fine so I’m gonna leave you to it,” she remarked, giving Azzi a wink before moving off to talk with the others.

Azzi turned back to Paige, the energy between them shifting again now that KK had left. Paige took a sip of her drink, her fingers absentmindedly spinning the glass against the bar top. Azzi watched her for a second before tilting her head.

“So, is this what you’re like on a night out?” Azzi asked, leaning against the bar with a grin. “Quiet, mysterious… just sitting there looking pretty in your own head?”

Paige huffed a small laugh, shaking her head as she set her drink down. “Maybe,” she said, glancing at Azzi. “But I think you just called me pretty.”

Azzi smirked. “I did.”

Paige held her gaze for a moment before nodding slightly. “Good to know,” she said simply.

Azzi laughed, the sound warm. “You’re a little hard to read, you know that?” she said, studying Paige like she was trying to figure her out.

Paige shrugged, her expression still tinged with amusement. “Maybe you’re just bad at reading me Azzi.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. “Oh, I don’t think that’s it.” She let her eyes briefly flicker over Paige slowly before meeting her gaze again. “I think I’m figuring you out just fine. Slowly but surely.”

Paige held her stare, her own smirk forming. “Yeah?”

Azzi nodded. “Mhm.” She leaned in just slightly. “Like, I think you like the attention more than you let on.”

Paige’s lips pressed together like she was trying not to smile, but the amusement was evident in her eyes. “That so?”

Azzi’s gaze stayed steady. “Yeah. You pretend to be unbothered, but you’re not as unaffected as you want people to think.”

Paige chuckled at that, shaking her head slightly. “And what makes you so sure?”

“Because,” she said, tapping her fingers against the bar. “You’re still sitting here talking to me.”

Paige exhaled a soft laugh, her eyes flickering down for a second before she looked back at Azzi. She leaned in slightly herself, her voice dropping just enough.

“And you’re still talking to me,” she pointed out.

Azzi felt a small rush at that, the way Paige’s words carried that same challenge had grown accustomed to before tonight. She grinned, tilting her head. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Paige hummed, taking another sip of her drink before looking back at Azzi, a glimmer of something playful—something interested—settling behind her gaze. “Good to know,” she said again, repeating her words from earlier, but this time, her voice was just the slightest bit lower.

As the night carried on, Azzi and Paige eventually drifted back toward the rest of the team. The atmosphere was lively—laughter, drinks clinking, the steady hum of conversation filling the space. Paige found herself next to Ice, who was mid-story about something that happened during practice earlier that week.

Paige listened, offering small nods and the occasional chuckle, but it was clear she wasn’t as engaged as she had been at the bar with Azzi. She was friendly, polite, but there was a noticeable shift—her responses shorter, her posture a little more reserved. She wasn’t standoffish, just… quieter.

Ice noticed. She squinted at Paige, tilting her head. “You always this quiet?” she asked.

Paige sipped her drink before shrugging. “Most times.”

Ice gave her a once-over, a look creeping onto her face before she glanced past Paige—right at Azzi, who was talking to Nika a few feet away. A slow smirk tugged at Ice’s lips as she looked back at Paige.

“Huh,” Ice mused, taking another sip of her drink. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Paige furrowed her brows slightly. “What do you mean?”

Ice smirked. “Nothing,” she said, but the way she dragged out the word made it obvious that it wasn’t nothing. She took another sip before nodding toward Azzi. “Just saying—you seem to talk a little more when you’re over there.”

Paige’s lips pressed together, her grip tightening around her glass just slightly. “Do I?” she asked, her voice neutral.

Ice grinned. “Mhm.” She leaned in just a little. “Don’t worry, though. I think she likes it.”

Paige exhaled a small laugh before shaking her head. “You’re reading into things.”

Ice just smirked wider. “I’m definitely not.”

After a while it had gotten pretty late. Paige exhaled softly, setting her drink down on the nearest surface before turning to Azzi. “I think I’m gonna head out.”

Azzi, who had been mid-conversation with Caroline, instinctively paused, her head turning toward Paige. “How’re you getting back?” she asked, brows slightly furrowed.

Paige gave a small shrug. “I was just gonna Uber to my hotel.”

Before Azzi could respond, Caroline wordlessly grabbed her keys and pressed them firmly into Azzi’s hand. “Azzi can take you,” she said.

Azzi blinked, caught off guard. She shot Caroline a look, but the girl just grinned wider, clearly pleased with herself.

Paige hesitated, her eyes flickering between them before shaking her head. “No, it’s cool, I don’t wanna—”

“I don’t mind,” Azzi finally cut in, her voice coming out a little too smooth, a little too sure. She adjusted the keys in her hand, turning toward Paige now.

Caroline, visibly enjoying every second of this, shoved Azzi’s jacket toward her. “Perfect. Drive safe.”

Azzi exhales, shaking her head slightly before turning her attention back to Paige. “Well,” she says, tilting her head toward the door, “guess you’re stuck with me.”

Paige huffs a small laugh, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Guess so.”

There’s a beat of silence, the air between them charged. Then, without another word, Azzi gestures for Paige to follow her, leading the way toward the exit.

As soon as they got in the car, Azzi adjusted her seat and started the engine, but for the first time that night, she wasn’t sure what to say. Paige had already given her the address when they were walking towards the car. The silence between them wasn’t awkward—at least, not for Paige. She looked completely at ease, her body relaxed against the seat as she gazed out the window. The glow from the streetlights cast soft shadows across her face, highlighting the sharp angles of her jawline and the way her silver rings caught the light whenever she shifted her hand.

Azzi stole a quick glance at her before finally breaking the silence. “So, Ice thinks you only talk to me.”

Paige turned her head slightly, a small smirk playing at her lips. “That’s what she said.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, keeping her eyes on the road. “And what did you say?”

Paige exhaled a quiet laugh before looking back out the window. “Didn’t say anything.”

Azzi hummed at that, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel. “Interesting.”

Paige tilted her head slightly but didn’t say anything, letting the silence stretch between them for another beat.

Azzi smirked, finally glancing over at her again. “That means you didn’t deny it.”

Paige smiled a little as she looked over at Azzi. “Didn’t feel the need to.”

Azzi grinned at that, her grip on the wheel loosening as the conversation found its rhythm again. “So you like talking to me too, then?”

Paige looked at Azzi, her eyes unreadable, but her lips curved just enough. “I didn’t say that.”

Azzi scoffed, shaking her head as she turned her focus back to the road. “You like being difficult, don’t you?”

Paige smirked again, settling further into her seat. “Maybe sometimes.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe sometimes,” she repeated, stealing another glance at Paige. “You know, for someone as quiet as you, you sure know how to keep me on my toes.”

Paige smirked, her fingers idly playing with the rings on her hand. “That a bad thing?”

Azzi scoffed. “Didn’t say that.”

Paige huffed out a quiet laugh, the air between them was light despite the weight of whatever was lingering beneath the surface.

Azzi tapped her fingers against the wheel, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. “So, if you didn’t say you like talking to me… and you didn’t say you don’t… what am I supposed to do with that information?”

Paige glanced at her, the corners of her lips curling just slightly. “Figure it out.”

Azzi let out a low chuckle. “Oh, I see how it is. You like making things difficult for me.”

Paige tilted her head, pretending to think about it. “Maybe sometimes.”

Azzi groaned dramatically. “Alright, you can’t keep using that answer. It’s a cop-out.”

Paige grinned this time, the most open she’d been all night. “Seems to be working just fine.”

Azzi shot her a look, playful and exasperated all at once. “What makes you say that?”

Paige shrugged. “Because you’re taking me back to my hotel.”

Azzi exhaled a laugh, shaking her head as she made a turn. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

For a moment, there was only the hum of the engine and the quiet city around them, the comfortable silence settling between them again.

Then Azzi glanced over, her voice dipping slightly, her tone laced with something else. “You sure you don’t like talking to me?”

Paige studied her for a beat. Then, with a small smirk, she turned back toward the window.

“Maybe sometimes.”

Azzi’s jaw dropped at this and Paige just chuckled at her reaction as she went back to looking out the window.

A bit later Azzi pulled into the hotel parking lot, shifting the car into park as the engine settled. The quiet between them stretched, not uncomfortable, but filled with something unspoken. The streetlights cast a soft glow over the car’s interior, highlighting the subtle tension that had been building all night.

Azzi was the first to break the silence. “When do you leave Connecticut?”

Paige kept her gaze forward for a moment, her fingers idly tapping against her knee before she answered. “Tomorrow night.”

Azzi hummed in acknowledgment, nodding slightly as she processed that.

The silence returned, heavier this time, until Paige exhaled quietly. She glanced over at Azzi, studying her for a moment before finally speaking again. “You wanna come upstairs?”

Azzi’s first instinct was to hesitate, to say it probably isn’t a good idea, but Caroline’s voice echoed in her head—do it before she’s your teammate—and before she could second-guess herself, she found herself nodding. “I do.”

Paige’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before she simply nodded back. “Cool.”

With that, she pushed open the car door, stepping out into the night without looking back, leaving Azzi gripping the steering wheel for half a second longer before finally following.

The two of them walked through the hotel lobby, the quiet padding of their footsteps echoing against the polished floors. Azzi glanced around, taking in the sleek, modern design. “This is nice,” she commented, her eyes sweeping over the dimly lit lounge area.

Paige chuckled, slipping her hands into her pockets. “Courtesy of your coach.”

Azzi smirked at that, shaking her head as they stopped in front of the elevator. As they waited, she pulled out her phone, sending a quick text to Caroline telling her she was fine before tucking it back into her pocket.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, and they stepped inside. The ride up was… a little awkward—not bad awkward, just thick. The tension from earlier hadn’t disappeared, just shifted into something more present, lingering in the small space between them. Azzi found herself hyper aware of Paige standing beside her, close enough that she could catch the subtle traces of her scent again.

Before she could think twice about it, she blurted out, “What kind of perfume do you use?”

Paige turned her head, smirking as she chuckled softly. “Dolce & Gabbana.”

Azzi hummed at that, but didn’t say anything back.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Azzi hesitated for half a second before shrugging. “No reason.”

The elevator doors slid open and the two of them walked down the hallway before Paige stopped at her door. She swiped her keycard against the lock, the green light flashing as the door clicked open. With a small glance back at Azzi, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

As Azzi fully stepped inside, she immediately took note of how clean the room was. Sure, the hotel staff had probably stopped by, but there was something about the way Paige’s things were neatly folded, her shoes lined up on the wall, her duffel bag zipped up in the corner, that made it clear she kept it that way herself. It didn’t smell like a hotel room either—it smelled like her. That same mix of jasmine and vanilla that had been lingering in Azzi’s head all night.

Paige walked over to the mini fridge, casually pulling it open. “You want a water?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder.

Azzi nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Paige grabbed two bottles, tossing one to Azzi before twisting the cap off her own and leaning against the desk. The silence that settled between them wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it carried a weight, like they were both aware of something neither of them wanted to address just yet. Azzi took a sip of her water, eyes flickering around the room before landing back on Paige.

Azzi rolled the bottle of water between her palms, glancing over at Paige, who was still leaning against the desk, watching her with that same unreadable expression she’d had in the car. The silence stretched for another beat before Azzi finally spoke.

“So…” she started, tilting her head slightly. “Why’d you invite me up?”

Paige smirked a little at that, as if she’d been expecting the question. She took a sip of her water before responding. “Did you not want to come?”

Azzi let out a chuckle, shaking her head. “That’s not what I asked.”

Paige hummed, setting her bottle down on the desk behind her. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice light. “Seemed like you weren’t ready to say goodnight yet.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Oh yeah? And what gave you that impression?”

Paige didn’t move, but her smirk deepened just slightly. “I got a vibe.”

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head. “You got a vibe?”

Paige hummed in response, her gaze steady as she just looked at Azzi, unreadable yet somehow still saying something.

Azzi tilted her head. “What goes on in your head all day?”

Paige took a sip of her water before simply replying, “Thoughts.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh. “Well, that’s a miracle.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “You got jokes, huh?”

Azzi smirked, repeating Paige’s own words from earlier. “Maybe sometimes.”

Paige let out a chuckle, shaking her head slightly as she played with her water bottle. “Alright, I’ll give you that one,” she admitted before taking another sip.

Azzi smirked, leaning against the wall now, mirroring Paige’s casual stance. “I’ll take it.”

A brief silence settled between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was charged—like they were both waiting to see who would say something next, who would push the moment just a little further.

Paige finally broke it as she looked at Azzi. “You never answered my question.”

Azzi lifted an eyebrow. “Which one?”

Paige gave her a pointed look. “Did you want to come up?”

Azzi let the question hang in the air for a second, her smirk fading into something softer—something just as teasing but a little more honest. “I think you already know the answer to that Paige.”

Paige held her gaze, her lips twitching slightly like she was fighting back another smirk. “Yeah,” she mumbled, voice just a little lower than before. “I think I do.”

Azzi shook her head as she took a sip of her water. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Paige smirked. “That a good thing?”

Azzi tilted her head, considering. “Most of the time.”

Paige huffed a soft laugh. “And the rest of the time?”

Azzi shrugged. “Jury’s still out.”

Paige hummed at this, licking her lips as she looked at Azzi. The thoughts behind her eyes clear for the first time.

Azzi looked down for a second before meeting Paige’s gaze again. “Can I ask you something?”

Paige nodded and Azzi watched her closely, trying to gauge her reaction. “I’m going to be a little bold with this, so if I have the wrong idea, please tell me.”

Paige chuckled, a glint in her eyes as she motioned for Azzi to go ahead.

Azzi hesitated for only a second before asking, “How many people have you slept with?”

Paige didn’t flinch, didn’t seem caught off guard. Instead, she answered smoothly, “Six.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Recently?”

Paige shook her head. “No.”

Azzi hummed at this, nodding slowly, taking in the way Paige seemed completely unfazed, as if this kind of conversation didn’t rattle her in the slightest.

Then Paige moved. She pushed off the desk, stepping toward Azzi with an almost lazy confidence, the gap between them shrinking. Azzi could feel the shift immediately.

Paige stopped just in front of her, close enough that Azzi caught that familiar mix of jasmine and vanilla. She tilted her head slightly, her voice low, smooth.

“Why do you ask?”

Azzi let out a soft breath, lips twitching. “Just curious.”

Paige hummed, her gaze locked on Azzi. “You always this curious?”

Azzi smirked. “Depends on who I’m talking to.”

Paige’s lips quirked slightly, but she didn’t respond right away. She just held Azzi’s gaze, the space between them thinning ever so slightly, a silent conversation playing out between them.

Azzi swallowed, her voice quieter now. “And?” she asked. “Did I have the wrong idea?”

Paige exhaled softly, her eyes flickering down to Azzi’s lips again before meeting her gaze again.

“No.”

Azzi’s gaze flickered down to Paige’s lips for just a second before meeting her eyes again. “So… when’s the last time?”

Paige let out a quiet breath, something amused crossing her face. “You ask a lot of questions.”

Azzi smirked. “Only when I actually want to know the answers.”

Paige studied her for a moment, then tilted her head deciding to ease her mind. “It’s been a while.”

Azzi let that sit between them for a second before she asked, “Why’s that?”

Paige exhaled a soft chuckle, the corner of her mouth lifting like she found the conversation entertaining. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Azzi didn’t blink. “You could.”

Paige didn’t back down either. “Would you answer?”

Azzi took a small step closer, her voice dipping lower. “Maybe.”

Paige hummed at that, her fingers trailing idly against the rings on her finger. “Maybe I’m just waiting.”

Azzi’s eyes searched hers. “Waiting for what?”

Paige held Azzi’s gaze, her voice smooth as she said, “That depends on you.”

Azzi’s brow lifted slightly. “How so?”

Paige exhaled softly, tilting her head just a little. “We’re probably going to be teammates.”

Azzi tucked that knowledge away as Paige unknowingly let that slip. “We’re not teammates yet,” she countered, voice lower now. “And it’s just one night.”

Paige chuckled, the sound quiet, knowing. “It’ll be more than just one night.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes, intrigued. “You seem confident.”

Paige leaned in just enough that Azzi could feel the warmth of her breath. “You seem too interested for it to be just one night.” A pause, then a smirk. “And I think everything in life happens for a reason.”

Azzi hummed, considering that before simply saying, “You think too much.”

Paige chuckled again, softer this time. “You’re probably right.”

Azzi’s eyes darkened just slightly as she searched Paige’s face. “I want us to stop talking,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, only inches from Paige’s lips.

Paige held her gaze. Slowly, she gave a small nod, her voice just as quiet. “Then let’s stop talking.”

Azzi didn’t need any more convincing. The space between them disappeared in an instant as their lips finally met—slow at first, testing the waters, before deepening. Paige’s hands instinctively found Azzi’s waist, fingers pressing into the fabric of her shirt, while Azzi’s arms wrapped securely around Paige’s neck, pulling her in closer.

It wasn’t lost on Azzi that this was the first time they had ever really touched—no casual brushes of hands, no lingering grazes—just this, a full embrace, lips slotting together like they had been waiting for it. And maybe they had.

Paige’s grip on Azzi’s waist tightened, a subtle squeeze that sent a thrill down Azzi’s spine. In response, Azzi deepened the kiss, tilting her head slightly, allowing their lips to move in perfect sync. They breathed through their noses, neither of them willing to pull away just yet, as if letting go would break whatever spell had settled between them.

Azzi could feel the warmth of Paige’s skin beneath her fingertips, the firm muscle beneath her grip. The moment was thick, charged, and she was already losing herself completely in the way Paige kissed her

Azzi barely pulled back, her lips still ghosting over Paige’s as she murmured, “You’re not gonna ask me?”

Paige’s hands slid over Azzi’s waist, guiding them slowly toward the bed. “Ask what?”

Azzi smirked, her breath warm against Paige’s lips. “How many people I’ve slept with.”

Paige didn’t hesitate. “Doesn’t matter,” she said simply, her tone steady as she guided Azzi back until the bed hit the back of her legs.

Azzi let out a small, surprised breath as she lost her balance slightly, but Paige caught her with ease, steadying her before laying them down gently. The moment stretched between them, thick with something unspoken, as Paige hovered over her, her fingers still resting lightly against Azzi’s waist.

Azzi met her gaze, her smirk forming into a soft smile. “No?”

Paige shook her head, her thumb brushing absentmindedly over Azzi’s hip. “No,” she murmured, eyes flickering between Azzi’s lips and her gaze.

Azzi didn’t let Paige linger too much. She reached up, fingers slipping into Paige’s bun, working it loose until blonde strands cascaded freely around her face. A satisfied smile ghosted Azzi’s lips as she pulled Paige back down, kissing her slowly.

After a while, Paige broke away, standing up as she reached for the hem of her shirt. Azzi pushed up onto her elbows, watching as Paige peeled it over her head. Her gaze naturally traced the lines of Paige’s toned stomach, but then her eyes caught something else—a scar along the side of her torso.

It wasn’t massive, but it definitely wasn’t small either.

Paige noticed where Azzi’s eyes had landed, so she spoke before Azzi could ask. “Car accident,” she said simply, her voice unreadable.

Azzi just nodded, not pressing.

Paige didn’t give her the chance to linger on it. She was back over Azzi in an instant, her hands pressing into the mattress on either side of Azzi’s waist. Their eyes met again, and whatever weight the moment held dissolved as Paige leaned back in, her lips capturing Azzi’s once more.

Azzi let out a slow breath, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair as Paige’s lips trailed down her jaw, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. Paige’s hands were steady, pushing Azzi’s shirt up inch by inch, her fingers grazing over smooth skin, mapping out the new territory.

Azzi tilted her head instinctively, offering more of herself, and Paige took her time, pressing kisses along the curve of her neck, her breath hot against Azzi’s skin. Azzi’s own breathing grew just a little heavier, her body reacting to each kiss.

Paige lingered there for a moment–kissing, nipping, sucking–reveling in the way Azzi’s body responded to her before murmuring against her skin, “You wanna take this off?” She punctuated the question with a gentle tug at Azzi’s shirt.

Azzi nodded, lifting her arms slightly to help Paige pull her shirt over her head. As the fabric was tossed aside, Paige’s eyes roamed over Azzi’s exposed torso and chest, a slow, almost dazed smile spreading across her lips. She shook her head slightly, a quiet chuckle escaping her.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Paige just licked her lips, her gaze dragging up to meet Azzi’s as she murmured, “You look good.”

Before Azzi could respond, Paige leaned down, pressing soft, lingering kisses against her stomach. The warmth of her lips mixed with the faint scrape of her teeth made Azzi’s breath hitch. Paige took her time, sucking lightly against her skin before trailing back up, her mouth exploring, savoring the taste of Azzi’s skin.

Azzi let her head fall back against the pillow, her fingers instinctively threading through Paige’s hair. She wasn’t sure if she meant to pull her closer or slow her down, but Paige didn’t give her a chance to decide.

By the time their lips met again, the kiss was deeper, slower, like neither of them were in a rush to let go.

Paige’s fingers played with the button of Azzi’s pants, her touch light but teasing. When she heard Azzi’s breath hitch, she pulled back just slightly. “You good?”

Azzi nodded quickly, voice a little breathless. “Yeah.”

Paige smirked. “You sure? ‘Cause for a second there, it sounded like I did something to you.”

Azzi scoffed, her grip tightening on Paige’s bare shoulders. “Shut up.”

Paige chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss just below Azzi’s jaw. “That’s not a denial.” Sucking slightly after she asked.

Azzi exhaled sharply, tipping her head back against the pillow. “You really think you’re something, don’t you?”

Paige hummed against her skin, the vibration making Azzi swallow. “No, I know I am.” She nipped at Azzi’s collarbone before pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “And based on the way you’re looking at me right now… you know it too.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, though the effect was ruined by the way she was gripping Paige’s waist, pulling her back down. “This is probably the most you’ve talked.”

Paige chuckled, finally undoing the button. “Guess you just bring out the best in me.”

Paige started trailing her lips down Aziz’s body again, nipping at the skin and sucking here and there.

Once she reached Aziz’s waist she looked up at her expectedly as her fingers wrapped around the waistband of Azzi’s pants. Azzi lifted her hips making it easier for Paige to slide them and her underwear down Azzi’s legs smoothly. Taking her own pants off when she discards Azzi’s.

Paige settled between Azzi’s legs, her hands trailing slowly against Azzi’s thighs as she hovered over her center. The air between them was thick making it hard to think straight. Still Paige paused before she brushed her lips lower.

She lifted her head slightly, her gaze locking onto Azzi’s. “This okay?”

Azzi, already breathless, nodded immediately. “Yeah.”

Paige didn’t move, just studied her for a second longer, her fingers still tracing slow, aimless patterns along Azzi’s thighs. “You’d tell me if it wasn’t, right?”

Azzi exhaled. “Of course.”

Paige held her gaze for a beat longer, studying her, then nodded, the corner of her mouth tugging into something softer than a smirk. “Good.”

Then Paige was dipping her head between Azzi’s legs and Azzi immediately sighed at the contact, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair.

Paige switched between licking and sucking as she paid close attention to Azzi’s reactions. Azzi wasn’t outwardly vocal yet. Her breath had grown uneven and her chest rose and fell a little quicker but she hadn’t let out any outward indication of her feelings as she bit down on her lip.

Paige used both of her hands to pull Aziz’s hips closer to her, pressing herself further into Azzi as she put Azzi’s legs over her shoulders.

Azzi’s fingers curled tighter in Paige’s hair, her breath hitching as she let out a quiet, unsteady sigh. “You feel so good,” she murmured, her voice coming out softer, more breathless than she intended.

Paige didn’t respond with words—she didn’t need to. Instead, she hummed against Azzi’s center, the low vibration sending a jolt through Azzi that pulled a quiet moan from her lips. Paige smirked at the sound, her hands gripping Azzi’s waist a little firmer, holding her steady.

Azzi swallowed, her breathing uneven. “You—” she started, but then Paige flicked her tongue making Azzi exhale sharply, her body reacting. Her head fell back against the pillow, her fingers tugging at Paige’s hair, needing something to hold on to. “God, Paige…” she sighed, her voice just above a whisper.

Paige still didn’t say anything, but the way she moved, the way she responded to every little sound Azzi made, was more than enough of an answer. Azzi bit her lip, trying to steady herself, but Paige was making it impossible. “You’re—” Azzi��s breath hitched again, her voice catching. “You’re too good at this.

Paige finally lifted her head just slightly, just enough for Azzi to catch the amused glint in her eyes and the wetness coating her lips before she murmured, “I know.” Then, just as Azzi was about to say something back, Paige was gone again, her actions cutting off whatever thought Azzi might’ve had, replacing it with another soft, shaky moan instead.

After a few minutes Paige pulled back slightly, replacing her mouth with her thumb as she traced deliberate circles against Azzi. She smirked as Azzi shivered beneath her, fingers still tangled in her hair.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” Paige murmured, pressing a slow kiss just above Azzi’s hip. “That’s not like you.”

Azzi let out a shaky breath, her grip tightening. “Shut up.”

Paige chuckled, circling her thumb in a deliberate, lazy motion that made Azzi’s stomach tense. “That’s not very nice,” she teased. “I was just trying to have a conversation.”

Azzi exhaled sharply, her voice unsteady. “You—you’re making that really hard right now.”

Paige hummed, satisfied. “Yeah?” she mused, tilting her head. “You usually have a lot to say. What happened?”

Azzi groaned, her head falling back against the pillow as she tried to collect herself. “Paige.”

Paige smirked, lifting her gaze, her chin resting just barely above Azzi’s hip as she watched her struggle. “Yeah?”

Azzi forced herself to look down at her, her breaths uneven. “You know what you’re doing.”

Paige grinned, adding another finger to her circular motions. “Maybe,” she admitted, her voice smooth, confident. “But I like hearing you say it.”

Azzi exhaled a shaky breath, her fingers tightening in Paige’s hair as she tried to steady herself. Paige watched her eyes dark in a way that made Azzi’s stomach tighten as she had grown used to Paige’s usual light blue eyes.

“You’re…” Azzi started, but her breath hitched as Paige pressed another slow, deliberate kiss to her skin.

Paige hummed, barely glancing up. “I’m what?”

Azzi swallowed, her voice coming out softer than she intended. “You’re—”

Paige dragged her lips over the same spot, teasing as she pressed her fingers more firmly against Azzi. “Come on,” she coaxed. “You’re usually so good with words.”

Azzi let out a quiet, breathy laugh, though it quickly turned into another sigh as Paige traced her tongue along her skin again. “You feel good,” she admitted, her voice nearly a whisper.

Paige smirked. “Yeah?”

Azzi just nodded, her fingers flexing where they rested against Paige’s scalp.

Paige tilted her head slightly, pressing another slow, lazy kiss. “Good enough to make you forget how to talk?”

Azzi let out a shaky exhale. “Paige.”

Paige chuckled against her skin, taking her time. “That wasn’t a no.”

Azzi groaned, her head falling back against the pillow. “You want me to admit it?”

“I just wanna hear you.”

Azzi sucked in a breath as Paige found the perfect pace, her words getting caught in her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut for a second before forcing them open, looking down at Paige, her expression unreadable.

“Ask me in a few minutes,” Azzi finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige smirked against her skin. “Mmm, ok.”

Azzi barely had a moment to gather herself before Paige was moving back near her lips, a knowing smirk playing on her face.

Azzi huffed, her breath still uneven. “Suddenly, you’re Chatty Cathy.”

Paige chuckled, tilting her head as she watched Azzi’s every reaction. “I usually just don’t have much to say.”

Azzi gave her a look, her lips parting slightly as she caught her breath. “You do now, apparently.”

Paige didn’t answer with words this time. Instead, she leaned in, nipping at Azzi’s neck, her teeth grazing just enough to make Azzi feel it.

Azzi inhaled sharply, gripping Paige’s arm.

Paige smirked against her skin. “Seems like you do too.”

Azzi was about to roll her eyes, ready to fire back, but the second Paige eased her fingers inside of her, her breath caught. Her lashes fluttered closed, her body reacting before she could think, and Paige caught it immediately.

She pulled back just enough to watch Azzi’s face, her smirk deepening. “That’s what I thought.”

Paige worked her fingers in and out, her head resting in the crook of Azzi’s neck as Azzi fought to keep her composure. Paige hovered just inches from Azzi's ear, her lips brushed against the delicate skin, whispering words that sent a wave of heat across Azzi’s neck. "You feel so good," Paige murmured softly.

"Can you feel how much I want you?" She drew her words out, the vibrations of her voice making Azzi’s pulse race in time with her breaths.

Azzi’s body responded before her mind could catch up, pulling Paige closer as she tried to ground herself in the feeling of her. Paige’s lips brushed against her ear again, the gentle heat of her breath making Azzi shiver. “You don’t have to say anything, just feel it,” Paige whispered, the words hanging in the air between them.

The way Paige’s breath mixed with her words, combined with the pressure of her body and the way she was working her fingers at the perfect pace, kept Azzi on the edge.

When Paige easily added another finger, Azzi’s breath caught, her chest rising and falling faster. She couldn’t help but let her hand drift down, grazing over the soft skin of Paige’s side until her fingers brushed against the scar near her torso.

At the contact, Paige sucked in a small breath, and without a word, she gently took Azzi’s hand, guiding it back up to her shoulder. The subtle movement was almost instinctive, a silent message that carried no discomfort—just a quiet assurance.

Azzi, realizing what she’d done, let out a breathless apology. “I’m sorry.”

Paige didn’t say anything immediately. She simply shook her head, the slight smile on her lips reassuring and seemingly tender. “It’s fine, pretty.” Her voice was soothing, like a calm after the storm, and it melted any hesitation Azzi had.

The words made Azzi’s breath catch, her eyes barely open as they met Paige’s gaze—deep brown eyes locking with Paige’s steady blue ones. Azzi’s voice barely broke through her breath, whispering, “I’m close.”

Paige nodded, her heart quickening, her breath steady as she stayed close, hovering just above her. Her lips brushed against Azzi’s ear as she whispered back, “I got you.”

Azzi’s grip tightened around Paige, her nails curling into Paige’s skin, pulling her even closer. “Can you kiss me?” Azzi asked breathlessly, her voice nearly a plea.

Without hesitation, Paige leaned down, her lips capturing Azzi’s in a passionate kiss. As soon as their mouths met, the kiss deepened, and Paige’s senses swirled—Azzi’s breath, the taste of her lips, the way her body moved beneath hers.

As the kiss grew more intense, Paige found herself swallowing Azzi’s gasps. Azzi was shaking beneath her, the tension building in her stomach. Paige could feel it, her own body responding instinctively, but it was Azzi’s trembling that made her want to hold on tighter. She kissed Azzi even deeper, feeling her tremble and pull at Paige’s shoulders. With every second, the heat between them seemed to double, and Paige couldn’t get enough of Azzi’s lips—of her sounds—of the way she reacted to her touch.

Azzi’s body arched beneath her, and Paige felt the moment before Azzi released over her fingers, her hands tightening once more around Paige. She didn’t break the kiss, her lips staying connected, savoring the moment as Azzi shuddered underneath her, the sounds she made muffled by their kiss that neither of them seemed inclined to stop.

After a few minutes the kiss finally broke, they were both breathless, but Paige stayed hovering above Azzi, her heart still racing.

After giving her a moment Paige moved off of Azzi and settled beside her, she could feel the soft heat of the moment still lingering between them. Azzi, though clearly trying to regain her energy, looked at her with a slight grin as she took slow, steady breaths, still adjusting to the aftershocks of what she felt.

Paige smiled a little, her voice. "Don't worry about it. You can get me next time," she said, her eyes filled with the playful confidence that Azzi had come to expect from her.

Azzi, barely opening her eyes, let out a small laugh, the remnants of pleasure still evident in her expression. "Who said anything about next time?" she asked, her voice light but laced with a hint of challenge.

Paige raised an eyebrow, giving her a look—one that was knowing, confident, and just a touch teasing. Azzi saw the look and didn't bother arguing, instead rolling her eyes as she closed them, her body still trying to find its calm.

Paige got up and walked to the bathroom, the soft click of the door closing behind her was the only sound in the room. She stood in front of the sink, running the water to wash her hands. Her eyes caught the faint scar near her hairline in the mirror, a reminder of a past she usually kept tucked away. The scar wasn’t large, but it was there and she noticed it every time she looked at herself.

Paige sighed softly, her reflection in the mirror a quiet reminder of everything she carried with her. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let the moment pass, focusing on the present instead. The warm water running over her hands brought a sense of normalcy, something she could control in a world that often felt unpredictable.

After drying her hands, Paige stood still for a moment, giving herself a final glance in the mirror before turning to head back to the bed. The weight of everything was still there, but it was lighter these days, fading into the background as her mind shifted back to the room she was in—and the woman she had just met, someone who felt entirely familiar.

When Paige returned to the bed, Azzi was still lying there, her eyes closed, her breath steady but soft. The moment between them had settled into a comfortable quiet. Paige walked back to her side of the bed, her gaze lingering on Azzi for a moment longer before she sat down next to her.

Azzi opened her eyes, meeting Paige’s gaze, her lips curving into a small smile. Paige gave her a soft smile in return, one that said everything without words. The air between them felt oddly still.

Paige settled into the bed, pulling the covers up over both of them, her body still warm from their earlier closeness. She could sense Azzi hesitating, her body almost stalling before she moved toward her. Paige chuckled softly, the sound slightly affectionate as she spoke. “We just had sex, Azzi. I can hold you.”

Azzi didn’t say anything at first, but Paige felt the shift in the mattress when Azzi finally moved closer. She rested her head against Paige’s chest, letting out a small sigh as she cuddled into her side. It was as if the world outside of the room didn’t exist anymore, the quiet intimacy settling between them. Azzi’s hand found its way across Paige’s stomach, her fingers gently brushing over her skin.

For a moment, Paige tensed as Azzi’s hand grazed over the scar on her torso, a small but noticeable part of her that she had learned to live with but never truly embraced. Paige’s breath hitched ever so slightly, but she didn’t pull away. She flicked her fingers lightly against her side, a small but intentional movement as she fought her body not to react too strongly.

She willed herself to stay still, to just let Azzi be without any hesitation. Paige took a steady breath, tightening her other arm around Azzi, pulling her in just a little closer. She closed her eyes, letting the weight of the night, of their connection, wash over her as she allowed herself to slowly relax into the comfort of the moment.

Azzi’s breath evened out against her chest, signaling that she was starting to drift off, and Paige willed herself to follow shortly after, the steady rhythm of their breathing a lullaby that eased her into sleep.

[bbokicidal]

Can I request Felix who is usually a sub leaning/vanilla and wants to dom reader for the first time, and Bangchan is there to help teach him what to do.

Idk if it makes sense but I love your work sm💕

-👩‍💻

[Drabble] Just A Little Help | Felix x Reader [+ Chan]

Felix loves when you take control, don't get him wrong. He likes the feeling of you being on top - hovering over him, sitting in his lap, riding him until his thighs push together and his knees knock against one another, shaking as you milk him dry. Those times are the best for him because it lets him relax, lets someone else take control so he doesn't have to worry about how he's doing, if he's doing it right, if he should do something different;

But he wants to try something new. He wants to try being dominant with you, but he isn't really.. sure where to start. It isn't the same as you being dominant so he can't really just think back and retrace your steps before following them himself, so he tries to do some research. But even then, he's a little nervous! Videos only show so much and so many of them are staged, even some of the amateur stuff (which is also filmed at shitty angles.)

Videos didn't help, articles didn't help - and his confidence is beginning to dwindle so much that he's debating just giving up and letting you dominate him like usual tonight. But then Chris sends him something - it's a meme, though it's sexual in nature, a clear innuendo that Chris is laughing at over text.

And so Felix decides to ask his Hyung for help.

It's a little embarrassing at first, but Chris seems to take it seriously. He understands why Felix is asking and offers up front to help the younger Aussie with his wants. He comes to the house in the evening and greets you with a polite smile.

When the time comes, you expect Chris to take his leave and head home. Only, Felix informs you that he wants Chris to stay, asking for your permission to keep him in the room. You're surprised, but if it's something they both want then you suppose it's alright - And you're only further surprised by the way your boyfriend initiates everything first. He's the one to kiss you, to gently guide you to the bed, to grind down against you and have you squirming beneath him in need. You're confused, but wildly aroused, and peek over at Chris only to see him gently nodding at Felix who was also glancing over.

Chris is there to guide him.

You've caught on, but stay quiet. Bringing it to their attention might only embarrass Felix and he seems to be in the groove right now, so you simply hum and moan and nod along as Chris comes closer to the bed to tell Felix what to do verbally. No more hints - simple, crisp, clear instructions. When to take off your jeans, how to pull down your panties with his teeth. Felix's tongue meets your clit and you gasp out, use to sitting on his face and having it all at once; But the gentle teasing he ensues when he's in control is enough to drive you mad - No tongue burying in your pussy, no suffocation of your poor sweet boyfriend beneath you. Instead it's little kisses peppered inside your thighs, the tip of his tongue flicking over the bundle of nerves he seemed to locate so expertly.

Chris watches the way your body shifts and uses your body language to decipher whether or not Felix needed to do more. He stays quiet until Felix comes up, hastily pushing his boxers down his thighs and crawling onto the bed between your legs. He doesn't need help with this part, sinking into your walls and whimpering at the way you seem to swallow him whole. Felix had to admit, the moment he started moving he almost regretted being on top - because he knew as soon as your thighs locked around his waist that he was going to become addicted to the feeling.

He's fucking into you just fine, and you seem to be pretty content with it - moaning, whining into the space between you - but Chris suggests Felix could take it a little further. Chris hums out that Felix could choke you, but the younger of the two quickly shakes his head. He isn't sure about it, is a little too shy to do such a thing just yet, and instead opts to lean down over you and cage you in with his elbows pressing just above your shoulders. It allows him to kiss you but still gives you the feeling of being held down, trapped beneath him.

Felix is exhausted by the time it's over. He isn't use to doing more of the work so he just lays atop you and lets you card your fingers through his hair while Chris sits aside quietly, waiting until someone got up to take his leave. He shifts when you get up first, rolling so Felix laid on the bed and you could get up and off of him.

Chris gives you time to get dressed, meeting you in the kitchen shortly after. He asks how it felt, if it was okay with him there - and when he hears that you actually liked having someone else in the room, Chris asks if he could potentially come back another time. Maybe be involved more.

Though, he has to warn you; He isn't as gentle as Felix is.

[gf2bellamy]

hiii!

i was wondering if you could write spencer x reader, where she’s having a really bad day but spencer is coming home from a case and is exhausted, mentally and physically so she feels guilty that she would bother him with her mood

So she just hides away and is on the verge of a panic attack and spencer finds her and is all “you save me, so pls let me save you” and just comforts her (and calls her angel because 🫠)

thankyouuu so much (you dont have to do it if you dont want! no pressure at all!) i love your writing, it’s so incredibly cute and endearing <3

exhaustion — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: reader crying a lot , reader feeling guilty / tired / exhausted, spencer calls reader angel a/n: hii thank you so much for your request !! i hope you like this <3

The apartment was quiet—too quiet. You sat on the couch, curled up in one corner, staring blankly at the empty space in front of you. The TV was off, the big overhead light was off, and the only light came from the small lamp on the side table.

You hadn’t moved in what felt like hours, your mind swirling with the events of the day. It had been one of those days—the kind where nothing went right, where every little thing seemed to pile up until you felt like you were drowning under the weight of it all. 

You missed Spencer. A lot. Especially right now.

He had a way of making everything feel better. You longed for his comforting hugs and the way he’d listen to you ramble about your day.

But he wasn’t here. He was at work, buried under mountains of paperwork and case files.

The sound of keys jingling in the lock snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped up from the couch, your heart leaping in your chest as you hurried to the door.

Spencer stepped inside, looking disheveled and exhausted. His tie was loosened, his hair was a mess, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He dropped his bag by the door with a heavy thud, and before you could say a word, he pulled you into a tight hug. 

You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face in his shoulder. He smelled like coffee and faintly of paper. For a moment, you just stood there, holding each other.

“I missed you,” Spencer mumbled into your hair, his voice muffled but sincere. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t want to let go, but after a moment, he pulled back slightly, his hands moving to cradle your face. His thumbs brushed gently over your cheeks.

“Today was horrible,” he said with a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he let go of you to shrug off his jacket. He ran a hand through his hair, looking more tired than you’d seen him in a long time. 

You bit your lip, hesitating. “What happened?” you asked softly, following him as he moved further into the apartment. 

He sighed again, sinking onto the couch and leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Just… paperwork. So much paperwork. And then Garcia’s computer crashed, so we lost half the files we needed, and Hotch wanted everything reorganized by tomorrow morning…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It was just one thing after another.” 

You sat down next to him, your heart aching as you watched him. He looked so drained, so unlike his usual self, and you felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about burdening him with your own problems.

Today had been hard for you, but it sounded like it had been even harder for him. The last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. 

So instead of talking about your day, you reached out and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “That sounds awful.” 

He gave you a small, tired smile, his fingers intertwining with yours. “It’s okay. It’s just… one of those days, you know?” 

You nodded, your throat tightening. You did know.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Instead, you shifted closer, pulling him into another hug. He leaned into you, his head resting on your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his hair. 

“How was your day?” Spencer mumbled, his voice soft and drowsy as he leaned back against the couch, pulling you with him.

You settled against his side, his head still resting on your shoulder as your fingers continued to gently card through his hair.

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated for a moment, your hand stilling briefly before you forced yourself to keep moving. 

“It was… good,” you said, your voice carefully neutral. You tried to inject a note of cheerfulness into your tone, but it came out sounding hollow, even to your own ears. 

Spencer hummed against your shoulder, seemingly too tired to notice the slight falter in your voice. “I’m glad,” he murmured, his words muffled as he nuzzled closer to you. His warmth was comforting, but it did little to ease the tightness in your chest. 

After a moment, he shifted, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before slowly sitting up. “I’m going to get changed,” he said, his voice still heavy with exhaustion.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze before standing and heading toward the bedroom, leaving you alone on the couch. 

As soon as he was out of sight, the lump in your throat returned, thicker and more suffocating than before. You bit your lip hard, trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill all evening.

But it was no use. The dam broke, and before you could stop yourself, you were on your feet, hurrying toward the bathroom. 

You shut the door behind you with a soft click, leaning against it as the first tear slipped down your cheek. Then another. And another.

Soon, you were crying , your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape. You muttered curses under your breath, frustrated with yourself for not being able to hold it together. 

“Get it together,” you whispered harshly, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. But the tears wouldn’t stop.

The tears kept running, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape.

You felt like a mess, your face hot and your chest tight. But just as you were about to try to pull yourself together, you heard footsteps outside the bathroom door, followed by a soft knock. 

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice came through the door, gentle and concerned. “Can I come in?” 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t know what to do. Part of you wanted to tell him to go away, to spare him from seeing you like this, but another part of you desperately needed him.

You muttered a curse under your breath, wiping at your face with the back of your hand before slowly getting to your feet. 

You opened the door just enough to peek out, your eyes meeting Spencer’s. He was standing there, his expression soft but worried. His hair was still a mess, but his eyes were focused entirely on you. 

“Hey, hey,” he said immediately, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?” 

You sniffled, your throat tightening as you tried to find the words. “I—” you started, but your voice broke, and you shook your head, unable to continue.

How could you even begin to explain? Everything was wrong. The entire day had been wrong, and now you felt like you were falling apart. 

Spencer didn’t push. Instead, he reached out, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek, wiping away a tear. His touch was so tender that it only made you cry harder.

“Come on,” he said softly, his hand slipping down to take yours. He gave it a gentle squeeze before pulling you with him, leading you out of the bathroom and down the hallway. 

You followed him numbly, your fingers intertwined with his as he guided you to the bedroom. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and knelt in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. 

“Talk to me, angel,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on?” 

The nickname made your heart ache, and you shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “You had such a bad day, and I didn’t want to make it worse.” 

Spencer’s expression softened, his hands moving to cradle your face. “You could never make my day worse,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And you’re never a bother. Not to me. Not ever.” 

You shook your head again, your hands gripping his wrists as you tried to steady yourself. “But you were so tired, and I didn’t want to—” 

“Hey,” he interrupted gently, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “You save me, I save you. That’s how this works, remember?” 

You nodded slowly, your breath hitching as more tears spilled over by just hearing those sweet words. Spencer leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms.

You went willingly, burying your face in his shoulder as he held you close. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back, and you felt some of the tension in your chest begin to ease. After a while he slowly let go, but his hands remaining on your arms.

“Tell me about your day,” he said after a while, his voice soft but insistent. “What happened?” 

You hesitated, but the way he was looking at you—so patient, so understanding—made it impossible to hold back. So you told him. You told him about everything that had gone wrong.

And he listened, his hands never leaving yours, his eyes never wavering from yours. 

When you were done, he pulled you into his arms again, holding you tightly against his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. But I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.” 

You nodded, your face buried in his shoulder as you clung to him. For the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again. Like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his shirt. 

Spencer pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “Always, angel,” he said softly. “Always.” 

[enwoso]

hey i absolutely love the lovie fics and i had a request for a fic about lovie getting into alessias make up or one about her as a newborn and meeting alessias family at her parents house

DAB TO FAR | alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

the faint hum of the hairdryer had been the background noise for most of the afternoon for alessia's as she was preparing for the fifa awards in london.

the award show being a significant event, her and a few of her other teammate's nominated for the fifa best XI and alessia wanted everything to be perfect.

she tasked her brothers, luca and gio the job of baby sitting you for the night. admittedly they were not the blondes first choice — that would have definitely gone to her mum and dad. but they were out of town choosing to extend their winter holiday in the sun.

so her brothers would have to do. but while alessia was getting her hair and makeup done. it had been surprisingly quiet in her home, too quiet.

her hair stylist, louise finishing up her curled bun as she quickly excused herself telling the girl she should probably check up on you in which she just laughed waving the blonde off to do whatever she needed to do.

alessia's gut twinged as she walked up the stairs, her hair styled perfectly with each hair having a place. but something wasn’t right.

you weren't exactly known for being silent, especially when you were at home. alessia had a hard time getting you to be quiet in the comfort of your own home. you were more of a constant giggler, singer or babbler.

alessia slipped the salon cape on the banister at the top of the stairs, "guys?" she called out.

walking into the room where she could hear gio screaming at what she discovered to be the tv, as he was glued to the gaming console, headset on, controlled in hand as he sat on the edge of the bottom of the bed.

luca was sprawled out on the spare bedroom bed, sound asleep over the noise of gio, his mouth slightly open. typical.

gio was too immersed to even notice her approach. "gio," alessia said, hands on her hips.

he jumped, scrambling to pull one side of the headset off as he noticed his sister with a not too impressed look on her face.

"oh, hey less. your hair looks nice, louise's has done a grand job!" gio smiled as he tried to waver the unimpressed look of his sisters face.

"where's lovie?"

gio face went blank, then turned to mild panic before he stuttered out a response, "uh- i..i thought she was with you?"

alessia's sharp inhale could have rivaled a gale-force wind, "you thought she was with me?"

"well, yeah, she was here a second ago-"

"giorgio!" she groaned, cutting him off as she spun on her heel to try and find you, she didn't have time to lecture him right now. her mind raced as she checked the kitchen and the backyard calling out for you.

"lovie, baby where are you?"

but i wasn't until she was doing the second check of the the upstairs when she passed her room that she noticed something odd. the door was slightly open, and alessia could distinctly remember shutting it earlier.

she gently pushed it open and froze as she poked her head into the room.

you perched on the vanity chair, one leg swinging back and forth as you were surrounded by an explosion of makeup.

eyeshadow palettes were wide open, power dusted across the table and floor like a multicoloured snowstorm. lipstick tubes uncapped and their contents smeared across your tiny face in bold streaks of red and pink.

alessia's blush brush clutched in your tiny hand, its bristles now dipped in an alarming mix of colours.

noticing your mummy in the mirror stood behind you a small wince on her face as you turned and look to her with wide innocent eyes.

your lips - mostly your chin - coated in a sticky uneven layer of alessia's favourite lip gloss.

"mummy! i pretty like you" you declared proudly holding up the brush as if it was a magic wand.

alessia bit back a laugh, she wanted to cry over her ruined makeup but the sight of you so proud of your work melted away any frustration that was building.

"lovie," alessia said crouching down to your level as you sat on the vanity chair, "what have you done?"

you big smile faltered slightly, "i getting ready for the awards.. like you!"

alessia let out a small sigh, softening her tone, "lovie, you know you can't play with mummy's makeup like this. it's special to me and not for little girls"

your bottom lip trembled and alessia quickly reached out to wipe a bit of lipstick off your cheek. "it's okay but we're gonna have to clean this up together alright?"

you nodded solemnly your hands still clutching the brush and a half melted lipstick tube.

after cleaning up majority of the mess - and giving your face a thorough wipe, alessia was matching back into the guest room as you sat downstairs in the living room watching a programme in a fresh pair of pyjamas.

walking into the room, alessia flicked off the tv in the middle of the game gio was playing as she stood blocking the view of the tv.

"hey! alessia!" gio protested, glaring up at her as the gaming controller fell from his hands to his lap.

"don't you 'hey' me. you and him are supposed to be watching her" alessia gestures to downstairs. "you know where i found her? covered in my makeup! luca's asleep and your here playing a game i know you spent more than 12 hours a day playing!"

gio winced, sensing the slight frustration in his younger sisters tone, "she was quiet so i thought.."

"exactly! she was quiet that should have been your first clue!"

alessia didn't spare him any more words as she moved over to were luca lay sprawled out asleep on the bed. jabbing him slightly hard in the shoulder causing the boy to jolt up.

luca rubbed a hand over his face as he blinked groggily, "what's going on?"

"you're supposed to be helping watch lovie, not napping!"

"she's fine" luca mumbled defensively as his eyes fluttered closed again.

"erm she's wasn't actually, she was busy picasso-ing herself with my makeup in my room!"

luca groaned but alessia was already on her way back downstairs knowing her the makeup artist here to do her makeup would be waiting as she muttered under her breath about her useless brothers

as the makeup artist did the finishing touches as you sat comfortably in your mummy's arms getting your hugs in before alessia left as alessia couldn't help but chuckle at the memory of your colourful face.

you may have made a mess and ruined a bit of her makeup that she would no doubly have to replace but there wasn't anything she would trade it for then to have those memories with you.

she would however think twice about trusting her brothers with babysitting duties again...

[suiana]

thinking of a guilt ridden reader and a silly manipulative yandere who looks exactly like someone from reader's past.

maybe you did something bad to a friend, perhaps ended a relationship on bad terms with someone who never deserved to be treated badly. whatever it is, just the mere thought of that person causes you to physically curl up and pray for forgiveness.

so you spend the rest of your days like a dead man walking, the guilt of your actions clawing at the depths of your heart. it makes it hard to do anything, let alone think. because when you are left alone with your thoughts, all you can imagine is their expression when everything went wrong. oh how you'd give up anything just to change the past and your actions.

as if your guilt wasn't enough, he just had to skip into your life looking exactly like that person. like them.

at first, you thought of this as a curse. this... this stupid guy? looking exactly like them? then as you sort of warmed up to him, you still think it's a curse. because what gave him the audacity to come into your life, looking like them, and telling you how much he wants you? especially claiming that it was love at first sight and that you two were fated to be?

"i love you."

"can i be yours?"

"we'd be so good together."

you keep pushing him away. you know how this will end up, with you messing up just like last time. wouldn't it be better to just keep him at a distance? unfortunately for you he doesn't seem to think so. and it's like a curse. a demon from your past coming back to haunt you in the form of your greatest mistake.

if anything, your costant rejections only seem to keep him wanting... more?

"please, just one chance. that is all I'm asking for."

"no? you don't want to entertain me even the slightest bit?"

"how cruel, i never realised you were this heartless."

you eventually end up giving in. he just has that sort of effect you suppose. or maybe it's the guilt that's constantly eating you alive that's causing you to make this decision. after all, he looks so much like them and... you don't know what you'd do if he looked at you like that. not ever, not again. maybe this would be your way of making up for your wrong doings.

he couldn't be happier obviously. finally! the person he's been pining over finally accepted his confession! even if it took a long time, it all worked out. you're happy, his happy, everyone's happy!

until he found out you're not actually happy and you're just doing this because you feel guilty.

"what do you mean? am i just a replacement to you? a way to correct your mistakes?"

"hah! you're so- ugh, I don't even want to think about you anymore."

"save it, those are just excuses."

he's always been a manipulative person. he knows. and he knows that you know it too. yet he continues to manipulate you through it all. i mean, it's your fault for even treating him like a second option in the first place! what? he's the one that's been pestering you? no no, you could've just rejected him. it's not his fault, it's yours. you're not stopping him anyway so like, you're basically admitting you're in the wrong.

"yeah you should be sorry. how mean do you have to be to think of me just as someone you've hurt? I'm my own person too."

he says that but continues to use the fact that his familiarity elicits something in you. and he'll continue abusing it, continue taking advantage of your weakened state. why? because he can and because he wants to.

plus, it's amusing in it's own right to see you bending head over heels just to appease him. huh, guess the guilt runs deep, doesn't it?

oh it's whatever. he'll slowly condition you to start showing him the affection he so desperately craves anyway. he just needs to hold on a little longer. break you down a tiny bit more and then you'll be all his. he can feel it.

you two will be truly happy together. no other people, no guilt in your heart. just you and him, alone and content with one another.

that would simply be salvation, wouldn't it?

[woso-dreamzzz]

Loud II

Mapi León x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: You really need to stay quiet

*TW: light sexual content*

You whine into Mapi's mouth as she kisses you, tongue slipping into your mouth easily as you try to get even closer to her, sat atop her lap and rocking.

"Don't be too loud," Ingrid warns from her sport on the armchair in the corner, a light flush to her cheeks as she watches, chest heaving with pants," Or we'll have unwanted visitors."

You and Mapi don't really listen though.

You're usually good listeners, to Ingrid at least, but your noise levels can never be policed.

Especially if you're unbuttoning Mapi's shirt and gently running your fingers over her bare skin.

She gasps into your mouth, head tipping back to moan when you move to attach your lips to her neck.

"Another hickey?" Ingrid asks from her spot watching you both, legs thrown over the arms of the seat casually like she's watching her favourite show.

She probably is.

"Make sure to really mark her up," She continues," So she remembers what's going to happen tonight."

Mapi's hips jerk upwards when you suck at a particularly sensitive part of her neck. Her moans turn more into a whine, high pitched and loud as you bite down with a smug smirk.

"Don't make me come over there and gag you," Ingrid warns, eyes flashing with something deliciously dangerous at the threat.

It wouldn't be the first time she'd threatened to do that. It wouldn't be the first time she'd followed through either.

She'd have to be creative though. She certainly hadn't packed what she usually uses at home for this trip but you'd always enjoyed when Ingrid got a bit creative.

Especially when you could watch her get creative with Mapi, who threads her fingers through your hair to keep you at that sensitive spot.

"You...You try to be quiet when you've got an angel sucking at your neck," Mapi pants out, whining when you grind more firmly onto her lap.

"An angel?" You grin against her skin," Clearly, I'm not doing this right if you think I'm an angel." You look into her eyes and wink. "After all, I'm just warming you up for Ingrid."

You go back to sucking on her neck, littering Mapi with hickeys as her head raises to look at Ingrid, completely relaxed and only a little flushed from her seat in the corner watching.

"I-"

She's cut off though by the sharp rapping of knuckles on the door and you both freeze, heads trying to strain around the corner like you suddenly gained x-ray vision to see who could be waiting on the other side.

"Why did you stop?" Ingrid asks, elegantly getting to her feet with a smile.

"We..." You say," There's someone at the door..."

"Yes. That doesn't explain why you stopped."

"But the door-"

"I'll get the door," Ingrid waves a dismissive hand. "And I want you both suitably warmed up for me by the time I'm back." She winks. "You two will just have to be very quiet."

It doesn't sound like a difficult task but the moment Mapi's lips are on yours again, you know both of you are struggling to choke down the moans and whines threatening to spill out.

"Ingrid." It's Alexia's voice that you hear when the door is finally swung open.

"Alexia?" Ingrid replies and you can just tell she'll be wearing that confused face that she's perfected so well just for situations like these. "What is it? I thought we were done for the day. Have we missed a meeting?"

"No," Alexia says," No, nothing like that. Listen, I have no issues if you're going to let Mapi and y/n play cards but, please, can you tell them to quieten down?

You clumsily grind down against Mapi and she bites at your lip to force herself not to let a moan slip out.

"I can try," Ingrid lies," But you know how they get when they're playing cards. I can't always keep them quiet."

"So long as you try," Alexia agrees," Even just a tiny bit quieter? The walls are thick so it's not terrible but even just a little less noise will be appreciated."

"I'll make sure they're quieter," Ingrid promises, drumming her fingers on the door just as you drag Mapi into another heated kiss," Is that it?"

"That's it," Alexia says," Thanks."

"No problem."

The minute you hear the door swing shut, Mapi moans into your mouth, hands on your hips trying to guide your grinding exactly where she needs you.

"So," Ingrid says as she crawls onto the bed behind you, hooking her chin over your shoulder and pushing you and Mapi a tad more firmly together," It looks like you two might really get gagged after all."

[gabseyoo]

FIFTEEN SECONDS — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: female reader, friends to lovers, love confession, fluff, bit of comedy. word count: 1,2k.

note: here’s a little something for valentine’s day, hope you like it!

What should I say?

“Here.” No, too dry.

“Here, it’s for you.” Shit, still too dry.

“I bought this for you, I hope you like it.” Okay, that one wasn’t so bad. 

For the past ten minutes, Kiyoomi had been locked in a brutal staring contest with the small black box sitting on the café table. The thing wasn’t even looking at him, and yet he was the one losing.

This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

He had bought the damn gift two weeks ago. Two weeks of overthinking, of waiting for the perfect moment, of nearly shoving it to the back of his closet out of sheer nerves. But then Valentine’s Day crept up on him, and he thought—maybe this was fate giving him a chance.

Or setting him up for humiliating rejection.

Kiyoomi had rehearsed this moment in his head. And still, here he was, breaking into a nervous sweat over a bracelet. What if you didn’t like it? What if you thought it was stupid? What if you liked someone else?

Then, in the middle of his internal crisis, a familiar voice nearly made him jump.

“Hey, Kiyoomi.”

He looked up so fast he almost knocked the gift off the table. There you were, standing in front of him with that impossibly pretty smile, your presence alone enough to make his pulse go haywire.

“Did you already order, or should I—?” You asked as you sat down in front of him. 

“I already did.” He forced his voice to stay steady. “Iced latte with two shots of vanilla, right?”

Your smile grew. “You know me so well.”

Yeah, because I’m hopelessly in love with you.

The words were right there. On the tip of his tongue.

Relax, Kiyoomi. Ease into it.

That was the smart thing to do. You didn’t just shove a confession at someone out of nowhere—there should be a conversation first, something natural.

“So, uh…” He wracked his brain for something—anything—normal to say. “How’s work?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “It’s fine?”

What the hell was that, Kiyoomi? It was comical how his calm and collected personality seemed to disappear at this moment when he needed it most. Was love always this complicated? Or was it because it was about you?

You tilted your head. “Are you okay?”

No. No, he was absolutely not okay. His fingers tapped anxiously against the small box. The longer he waited, the worse this was getting. His nerves were eating him alive. He could already feel the impending doom of chickening out.

Screw it.

With zero transition or warning, he grabbed the box and shoved it across the table. “Here.”

Goddamn it. 

You blinked in surprise. “For me?”

A stiff nod. This was fine. You’d open it, love it, and then he’d tell you. Smooth. Simple. Foolproof.

Except…

You were taking your sweet time untying the ribbon.

Kiyoomi clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to do it for you. Why were you so slow? Was this some kind of test? Did you already know he was panicking and just wanted to see him suffer?

Finally, you lifted the lid. Your lips parted as you took out the delicate silver bracelet, the small star charm catching the café’s warm light.

“Oh, Kiyoomi…” You breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

His fingers twitched under the table as your eyes widened slightly. “Wait… this is—”

Kiyoomi looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the café menu on the wall. “Yeah.”

Your fingers traced the charm, realization dawning. “This is the bracelet from that shop at the mall, isn’t it?”

He cleared his throat. “Maybe.”

You turned to him, eyes suspiciously bright. “You went back for it?”

Kiyoomi picked up his coffee, taking a slow sip as if that would somehow make this moment less humiliating. “You wouldn’t stop staring at it.”

“I looked at it for like, five seconds.”

“It was at least fifteen.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

This was it. The perfect moment.

He took a breath, preparing to say the words that had been stuck in his chest for way too long.

“I—” He began, but the words he had rehearsed for days were interrupted when a waiter appeared at the table.

“Here’s your order! One vanilla iced latte and one black coffee.”

Kiyoomi clenched his jaw so hard he thought he might crack a tooth. Not now, man. 

He nodded stiffly as you thanked the waiter. Okay, fine. Minor setback. 

“What were you saying?” You asked after the guy turned around, taking a sip from your drink.

His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Now. Now is the time. Just say it: I like you.

Kiyoomi opened his mouth, determined to do it, but then— 

“Do you need any sugar?”

Oh my god.

Kiyoomi glared at the waiter. Who was back. Did this man have a vendetta against his love life?

He mumbled a half-hearted, “No, thanks.”

“Cream?”

“No, thanks.”

“Any appetizer? We have a special red velvet cake because of Valentine's Day.”

Was this a joke?

“We’re fine.”

“Actually, I want a slice of cake.” You said.

Before the waiter could leave, Kiyoomi muttered, “Make that two.”

The guy finally left, and he was beginning to get irritated by his bad luck.

Just do it now! He scrambled at himself mentally. 

“Y/N, I bought–” He hurried to say, but then the loud hiss from the blender machine drowned out his voice.

Was this the universe making fun of him? 

By now, he was one more interruption away from actually losing it. So, ignoring the annoying noise, he decided to just keep going, “I bought this because–”

“Oh! Look at that dog outside.”

Kiyoomi stopped mid-sentence as you turned to the window, grinning at a fluffy golden retriever wagging its tail on the sidewalk. Are you serious?

But, when he turned back to you, you were watching him with amusement.

You two made eye contact for a few seconds, he blinked, you blinked, and then— you laughed.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What?”

You smirked. “Kiyoomi, don’t be so shy.”

His stomach dropped.

“I like you too.”

For a full three seconds, his brain just ceased to function.

You… what?

His ears burned. His grip tightened on his cup. His entire soul left his body. “You knew?”

You giggled, tapping his hand lightly. “Of course. I actually got something for you too.”

You reached into your bag and pulled out a small gift box, setting it on the table in front of him. Kiyoomi tried—really tried—not to look too eager as he picked it up and carefully lifted the lid.

Inside was a watch. The watch. The one he had lingered on in the mall that day.

“You looked at it for at least fifteen seconds.” You teased, a knowing smile playing on your lips.

Kiyoomi froze. His fingers tightened around the box as the realization sank in.

You had noticed. Just like he had noticed you staring at the bracelet. You both had thought of each other.

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. His throat felt tight, his chest oddly warm. He looked up at you, something soft, something real in his gaze.

“This is—”

“Here they are! Two slices of red velvet cake!”

Kiyoomi visibly twitched.

Oh, come on!

[ddejavvu]

Sugar daddy Hotch!!! I feel like he'd be the type of person to be like "Honey, I know that that's what these kind of relationships tend to be based on, but you absolutely don't have to have sex with me... I know there's an age gap, so if you don't feel comfortable..." and you're just standing next to him like. "Huh? Sorry I wasn't listening, I was too busy thinking about climbing you like a tree. Can we fuck now please?"

well i think realistically he wouldn't have sought out a sugar baby unless he wanted to have sex w them so i don't think he'd just give you free money but he absolutely is willing to let you get settled before you ever do anything. he'll start you off on a weekly payment and tell you to enjoy the first few and get comfortable with him, he promises he's not gonna show up at the door and take you on the couch before you're ready. meanwhile the first time you spoke on the phone with him you were ready, god you almost stuck your hand down your pants just hearing his deep, smooth voice.

the first time you meet he offers you wine and he promises that he won't do a thing if you end up getting tipsy and you don't even have to drink in the first place if you don't want to. you're more than happy to sip for some courage and you end up draped all over his lap on the couch. you're not even drunk you just want to be there. he thinks you're buttering him up because you think that's what gets you the money, and i mean, eventually yeah, but he's pretty content with taking it slow. he puts one of his big hands on your face and thumbs at your chin to hold it in place while he murmurs, 'you don't have to do this, y'know. the money is yours, just get comfortable for now'.

all you're hearing is 'blah blah blah, proper name, place name, backstory stuff'. it's right then and there that you lean up to kiss him. maybe a bad time considering the fact that he's trying to ease you into things but you've wanted to take this man to your penthouse and freak it for WEEKS NOW. you'd admit that you'd have sex with him for free but you do also kind of need the money so you're at least going to make sure he gets what he's paying for.

[imsofreakingtired]

I am so so so so sorry if this is too close to nsfw (in my head it's very fluff/comfort but I apologise if it makes you uncomfortable bc I'm not sure), but thinking about Sevika w/ a partner who's been pressured by their ex's into doing things like sexually and her just reassuring them that like no baby I wanna hold you what r you talking ab I've been here all of 15 seconds I'm not tryna fuck calm down

And her partner who is so so surprised wdym ??? You just wanna spoon me isn't this the part where you grope my chest and Sevika is like BABY NO

I don't know I'm using her to cope this is so self indulgent I just wanna hear your thoughts on it

i love this idea, thank you for the request anon...and shitt this one was so personally relatable to me 😔

things i wanna say to you

content warning(s): mentions of trauma from past relationships, angst, hurt/comfort

"there's things i wanna say to you, but i'll just let you live like if you hold me without hurting me you'll be the first who ever did."

~~~

“Your beauty…it’s a blessing.”

It’s a sentence that returns and returns to you. It’s a truth you hold in your hands, or wear on your shoulders like a mantle you can’t take off. You have heard it, in one form or another, from the lips of lover to lover. They whispered it to you in the heat of sex, like a special confession only for you, and then vanished like a vapor. 

Your body is like a hotel, you think—a pretty room that people pass through and love only in the moment. When was the last time you were held without the other person’s hands hungrily seeking your breasts? When was the last time you were kissed without their hands roaming your body like an impatient, starved animal? 

Once, you had worked up the courage to confront them. You told them, “hands off.” You don’t exactly remember how the conversation went. But you know that it ended in them laughing in your face, suggesting you work at Babette’s if you wanted compensation for your body. 

When they were gone, you stood in the silent room and wondered if they were right. You wondered if it was your fault. If your body was the only good thing, the only worthy thing about you. If you were nothing more than a pretty face and a blank canvas waiting to be ruined. If you were asking too much when you asked for even just a shadow of respect. 

You stopped speaking after that. 

~~~

Shortly after you began to work for Silco as his record scribe, you met his henchwoman, Sevika. Immediately you knew she was different. She didn’t look at you the way others did—in fact, she barely looked at you at all. When she spoke to you she looked down at you over her hooked nose, her handsome, perfect nose, in a way that made you feel both insignificant and the only woman in the entire world. She didn’t give you flattery about your appearance, spoke bluntly when you made mistakes. 

Still you caught her staring at you from time to time when she thought you were too immersed in work to notice. But her face betrayed nothing. Her brows were always drawn together as if everything in the world annoyed her. You assumed she was only scrutinizing the way you worked. You wondered if Silco had ordered her to monitor you, assess your performance. You worked harder as a result, feeling oddly gratified to be watched for a reason other than your appearance. 

So one could imagine your shock when Sevika strode up to your desk one morning and said, “get your coat. Walk with me.” 

From that day on, you were hers. 

~~~

The first night you moved into her apartment had been a hard day at work. You had been at the desk all day without a single break, trying frantically to keep up with the endless flow of Shimmer shipment records and orders. Sevika had been on her feet from dawn to dusk—you hadn’t seen her for two consecutive minutes even though you worked in the same building. 

The night had deepened, the sky outside dusted with faint stars. You were undressing for bed. If you were tired, how exhausted must Sevika be? You paused in front of the mirror before you slipped the nightshirt over your body. Maybe she would want to let off some steam. Maybe she expected it from you. Hesitantly, you put the nightshirt on. You didn’t want to, but you felt like you owed it to her. Like she deserved it.

Sevika came in, her mechanical arm detached and water glistening on her face from a quick wash. She smiled slightly when she saw you waiting on the bed. “There’s my girl. C’mere.”

She sank into the bed you now shared with her, and obediently you crawled over and folded yourself into her embrace. Her right arm curled around you protectively. Her warmth, her strength, the tautness of her muscles against your skin. It was heavenly. 

She sighed into your neck, and it made you shiver slightly. The question tiptoed to the end of your tongue: can we…can we maybe just stay like this? 

But you feared she would say no. You feared she would be mad. And leave you. 

You waited for her to make the next move, to start pulling the shirt over your head, or turn you around so she could grope between your legs. When several seconds passed and she did nothing, you realized that maybe she was waiting for you. 

Reluctantly, you pulled yourself away and began to take off your shirt. 

Sevika sat up, confused. “What are you doing?”

You freeze in your movements. Your shirt falls back down over your chest. “I—you don’t want to…?”

She shook her head, lips curling in a bemused smile. “Baby, relax. I’ve been here fifteen seconds.”

Slowly, you returned to her, and she pulled you close once more. Sevika felt the shudder of relief that went through your body. Though you didn’t see it, her face creased with concern. She had noticed the apprehension in your eyes, nearly bordering on fear. And she made a mental note to herself to find whatever fucker had hurt you and made you so scared. 

~~~