#and then she said she left him for his best friend

[bewaryofpity]

NEXT STEP IS LOVE - L. HUGHES

[2.0k] luke brings you to the family skate, surprising his teammates, and the usual “i didn't know you had a girlfriend” comes up, but this time luke has enough of calling you just his best friend.

warnings: none ! just some cute ol' fluff; probably really cringey 😔

a/n: she's a short one, and i’m not really fond of it but here it is anyway. sorry guys :(

“Didn’t know Luke had a girlfriend.”

“That’s because he doesn’t. That is his best friend.”

“Bullshit.” Kovacevic laughed in Jack’s face before turning his head back towards Luke near the bench.

Luke was kind of a private person so the idea of him having a secret girlfriend would have made sense to anyone, especially to the new guys he wasn't close with yet. But when Jack revealed that the girl in front of Luke was simply a friend had to be the biggest lie Kovy ever got told. Because friends don’t look at each other that way.

Luke’s fingers were trembling as he tied the laces of your skates carefully, making sure they weren’t too tight or too loose. He felt nervous having you here with him, which was strange because it wasn’t like you’ve never been around the guys before, but the new season meant new guys too. Which also meant that the same old dreaded question was going to come up at any moment.

“Good?”

You nodded in response before stretching your hands out so Luke could help you up the bench. You were wobbly at first, as he tried to hold back the teasing grin creeping on his lips, definitely not used to being on skates as often as him. 

You slowly made your way onto the ice, clutching his hand like your life depended on it. He couldn’t help but keep his gaze on your concentrated face, cheeks flushed from the chill of the arena as you found your rhythm. He was lost in his thoughts, stomach filling with butterflies when your hands squeezed his tighter. And if it weren’t for the little squeak you left out, he would’ve let you fall.

“Sorry,” he said with no hint of honesty in his voice while you shot him a playful look. 

It wasn’t long before you found your footing and let go of his hands to skate side by side. There weren’t many chances for you to hang out with Luke in these settings. The last time you skated together was when he was still a rookie, and he almost got in trouble too many times for using the rink after hours just to teach you how to skate, but you loved every single moment of it. So when he realized your day off coincided with the family skate, he didn’t hesitate to mention it and you couldn’t wait to be there for him, doing something you know would make him happy.

Though, the only thing that was different from those times was the fact that holding Luke’s hands now had your heart doing funny tricks on you. The newfound warmth that has taken over your body in his presence this past year or so was unexpected and scary because you were well aware what this meant and you couldn’t lose Luke over a stupid crush. 

If only you knew that he too got to a point where hiding his feelings for you was actually painful. He tried everything to spend as much time with you as possible. Faking being too tired to drive back to his place and sleep on your couch, missing optional skates, staying up at night before an away game just to hear your voice, letting you nap and waking you up only to convince you to spend the night at his place because i don’t want you to drive, it’s too dark outside and dangerous. It was all worth it in his eyes. But the ache in his chest everytime he had to leave you was becoming harder to suppress than he thought and he couldn’t take it anymore.

As he tried to grab at your brushing hands, Pesce stopped abruptly in front of you and almost knocked you down in the process. 

“Didn’t know Rusty here had a girlfriend.” He said with a grin before turning his attention to Luke, wiggling his brows in a teasing maner.

“Oh, no, I'm just a friend.”

“Oh.”

“His best… friend, actually.” You tried to smile as sincerely as you could. The question never bothered you before, you two were close enough that such was expected, but the way Luke couldn’t look at you during the exchange with his teammate created a pit in your stomach.  

Before he could take you away from the awkwardness of it all, Cotter skated over too. “Here we go,” mumbled Luke. 

“Meeting the girlfriend without me?” 

“Not the girlfriend apparently.”

"Really?" He asked, his tone skeptical as his eyes flicked between you. "Could’ve fooled me."

Luke groaned, not missing the way his teammates exchanged knowing looks and chuckling under their breaths. He couldn’t really blame his teammates for jumping to conclusions. If he were in their shoes, he might have assumed the same thing, it happened way too often anyway.

He grabbed at your hand and pulled you towards him, skating as far as possible from everyone. Was it really that obvious he liked you? Yet, you were still by his side, seemingly not phazed by the constant nagging and teasing from outsiders about your relationship, which could only mean that you didn’t like him back. 

Luke was tired of all of this and the months he spent burying his feelings for you, convincing himself that your friendship was enough, were all coming down on him now with everyone assuming you were a couple. Feeling heavy, he hoped the family skate came to an end soon.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry about them.”

“That’s okay.”

You nodded but didn’t press further, not yet at least. Your hand came to rest around his bicep, seeking his warmth and pretending to need balance as you grew tired. 

The easy rhythm you found earlier was now gone. Luke could tell you were trying to bring yourself comfort by staying close to him, though you kept your gaze on the ground which could only mean you were absorbed in your thoughts. And he hated that it was all his fault, he hated the idea of you thinking he was embarrassed or annoyed by the assumption that you were together. Because he wasn’t, he had dreamed of being your boyfriend more times than he‘d like to admit. And he wanted nothing more than being able to call you his. 

Sensing your exhaustion, he led the way towards the bench to change back into normal shoes. The rink was quieter now, families thinning out. You leaned back, stretching your legs, and looked at him with a small frown on your lips. You didn’t have time to reach down when he brought up one of your feet to untie your skate.

“What’s on your mind, Luke?” 

Luke hesitated, his fingers fumbling with your skate laces. “Nothing.” 

“It’s not nothing, Luke. You’re too quiet, what’s wrong?”

“Does it not bother you when people ask if we’re a couple?”

You blinked at him, startled by the question. It wasn’t what you expected, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. Luke had stopped untying your skate, his hands frozen mid-motion as he waited for your answer. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the tension in his shoulders and the way his jaw tightened.

“Bother me?” You repeated softly, the chill of the rink seemed to seep into your skin, though you weren’t sure if it actually was the cold temperature or the sudden shift in the conversation. “No, not really. I mean, it happens all the time, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Luke nodded slowly, looking down at your skate again. He resumed working on the laces, but his movements were slower now, almost hesitant. You shifted slightly, your other foot tapping lightly against the rubber mat beneath the bench. 

“Does it bother you?” You tilted your head, watching him carefully. 

Luke let out a quiet sigh and dropped his hands on your leg. “I don’t know.” He admitted. “Sometimes, I guess. Not because of what they think, but… because of what it implies.”

“And what does it imply?” 

You echoed, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart began to race, the steady rhythm you’d been clinging to slowly slipping away. You couldn’t help but search his face for clues, for anything that might explain the sudden vulnerability in his tone.

Luke hesitated, his green eyes flicking up to meet yours for something — permission, maybe, or courage. And for a moment, he seemed to be weighing his next words, his brows drawing together in a way that made your chest ache. 

“Luke…”

“I like you,” he said, the words tumbling out in a rush, as if he was afraid he’d lose his nerve if he waited any longer. “I’ve liked you for a while now and I’ve been trying so hard to pretend that I don’t. I can’t stand being apart from you, I need you close to the point where I am not my own person anymore. I’m tired of the ache in my chest everytime I have to leave you, not just for roadies, but every time we part ways, it’s like I’m a different person without you that I can't recognize.”

“When they say stuff like that, it just makes it harder because I want it to be true. I want us to be more than just friends. I want to wake up next to you and come home to you every day.”

You blinked, clearly caught off guard. You tried to open your mouth as if to speak, but he pressed on, the words tumbling out like water breaking through a dam. His words started fading in your racing mind. His confession hung in the air heavy and raw, and all of it felt like you’ve been hit by a truck. Luke, your best friend, liked you and you were glad he hadn't stopped talking because, truly, you didn’t know what to say.

Luke’s heart felt like it might burst from his chest, every beat echoing in his ears as he braced himself for rejection, for awkwardness, for the possibility that he’d just ruined everything. The silence that followed when he stopped taking felt like an eternity. And for a moment, you just stared at him, expression unreadable. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I just… wanted you to know.”

You dropped your foot to the ground and scooted closer to him. As he turned to face you, your hand pressed against his cheek and you leaned in to place a delicate kiss on his lips. It was soft, almost hesitant, but it was enough to make Luke freeze. His mind blanked, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it. When you pulled back, your face was mere inches from his, your hand still lingering on his cheek. Your cheeks were flushed, though whether from the cold or the weight of the moment, he couldn’t tell.

His heart pounded in his chest as you bit your lip, your hand dropping from his face to rest on your lap. 

“It’s always been you, Luke.” Your gaze met his once more, the blush on his cheeks making him cuter than he ever looked. Luke’s eyes widened, still incredulous even after your kiss. 

“Really?”

“Really.” You smiled, a small, tentative curve of your lips as you nodded.

He leaned forward slightly clearing his throat, his eyes searching yours. “Can I kiss you again?” He asked, voice barely audible.

This time, the kiss wasn’t hesitant or fleeting. It was soft and tender, a promise of everything you both hoped to build together. When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads rested against each other, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt right.

“Hey, lovebird! Tone it down a bit, there’s kids around.”

Luke groaned at one of the guys’ teasing from the other side of the rink, and you laughed at his antics, the weight on your shoulders had finally been lifted off. 

“So… does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” You didn’t know your cheeks could flush any more, and smiling at his question, you reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from his face.

“Eh, I’ll have to think about that.”

[nemesyaaa]

soft heart shaped // brother's ennemy!rafe x innocent!reader

summary ; there was a fair reason of why your brother always keeping you away from the kook boys, even his own friends. there was also a fair a reason of why he wouldn't let you around his ennemy.

warnings ; +18 content. reader is kind of innocent but it doesn't involve rafe having a kink/or attraction about it. mean!rafe. intox kink/drugging. protective!brother. daddy issues. smut. oral(f&m r.). dumbification. daddy kink. light of violence. little age gap. mentions of stalking. soft!crybaby. p in v. dubcon. lil background. again, be aware of the warnings.

author's note ; as much as i love the brother's bsf trope, the brother's ennemy concept ran into my mind. i also wanted to add ; reader and her brother are kooks. it's not about pogues matters. i'm sorry if it's kinda shitty.

your brother always made sure you were safe and you had everything you needed. it was understandable knowing that none of your parents had been home for so long. he made sure that you always had what you wanted, and that you didn't have to lift a finger, or sweat a single drop to get it. all you had to do was ask for it to be wrapped in a gift at your bed. you were the youngest, the little princess who had to be spoiled and pampered, the one to whom we granted every whim, the one to whom we said amen without necessarily being a believer, the one we looked at hoping that she would always remain as beautiful and innocent, but also the one we always admired from afar because she wasn't allowed to be with boys alone.

your brother was one of those siblings who could have been the child prodigy if your parents were still around. he always had good grades at school, always praised by his teachers, and he knew how to play a musical instrument. It seemed that when you heard him playing the piano, you stopped crying. you had heard him play so many times, sitting on his lap, his hands sliding across the keyboard as he gently pushed your fingers on the piano keys, hoping that a few notes would calm you down.

he was protective. he had always lost interest in other girls just to only care about you. he was protective because he didn't want you to suffer, and because he knew the kook boys. even though he hated pogues, he knew you'd be safer with one of them than one of those rich boys with so many privileges.

one of them was particularly his enemy. rafe cameron. the one and only son of ward cameron. the businessman who controlled the island but was also one of your father's former best friends. you had seen him so many times in your house with all his children and his trophy wife.

rafe had always been a little weird around you. he always said he was there for your brother but it was always you he looked at. he always found an excuse to be with you. sometimes you wonder if it wasn't a question of ego.

you knew he and your brother didn't get along. they were always arguing and fighting. “I forbid you from hanging out with him.” your brother had warned you once, after coming back with an ugly black eye on the face. “is that him? " you asked shyly, swallowing hard. his gaze was fierce. “exactly. that’s why you have to listen to me. ”

did that necessarily make Rafe Cameron a dangerous person? You wondered because your brother could also be very violent. never towards you. but towards others.

could rafe cameron attack princesses like you, didn't you deserve better treatment? you were always so confused.

but one day, you knew that your brother had shot Rafe at a party. and after that he was gone, nothing more. you were alone at home. there was no one left.

He didn't respond to your messages or your calls. if he was no longer there, there were no more rules, no more prohibitions, right? you were totally free. you could wear the clothes you wanted, talk to whoever you wanted, come home at the time you wanted, go wherever you wanted. you no longer needed permission or approval. you no longer had any chains.

so you went to this kook party that everyone was talking about and that Sarah absolutely wanted you to come. she said you needed that, rather than staying alone in your castle.

When you arrived there, your heart was racing. Sure, your brother wasn't there to judge you, or tell you to go home, but you had the impression of feeling his warning dark stare through all these people looking at you.

you wanted to turn around, to run away. you heard people talking, music blaring from the speakers, all these drunken bodies pressed together which made you even more transparent. It wasn’t long before you started smelling like alcohol, drugs, and sex, the scent exploding in every corner.

while you were still thinking about leaving, you moved away but your back hitted someone's chest. a hand was placed on your shoulder to hold you close then a slightly mocking chuckle was heard in your ear.

“Careful, baby. "

you turned to confront the person. “rafe. " you announced without surprise.

"Such a face. I might think you're disappointed."

“I was looking for Sarah.”

“It’s a shame. She’s not here.”

“I’m leaving then.”

"I'm afraid you're not going anywhere." he mocked gently.

you looked at him strangely. he was there in front of you, with a drink in his hand, and his body was blocking your way.

“It’s not a game.”

“oh princess, it’s not because you don’t play that no one plays. and you see… when I look at you in this ridiculous tight outfit and especially alone, I really want to play.”

“you’re sick.” you replied.

"yes." he simply replied "but baby, everyone knows it, it's not a secret. on the other hand..." he leaned over to whisper something in your ear. “i would like to know how much you are too willing yourself to come to my party without your brother to protect you.”

“I don’t need him.” you defended yourself, stepping back so as not to be seen so close to him. “I’m a big girl.”

"yea, such a big girl. look at you, you managed to dress yourself." he teased you with a laugh. “ i'm joking, i admit you're pretty. why that face, baby ? i thought that little dress of yours wanted some rafe validation. ”

“you’re really not funny.”

"I think above all that you should relax. and I can help you with that..." he suggested softly. but all his sympathy was so fake. “have a drink.”

you laughed sarcastically and his smile widened. he had followed you into the crowd, acting like a bodyguard so you wouldn’t get lost among the people. he placed an arm around your waist, the size of his hands groping at your hips, pretending to be a gentleman when this kindness was purely ridiculous.

“don’t touch me. ” you snapped.

“too late. i just did.” he replied. “If you didn’t want me around, you shouldn’t have come here. you don’t make the rules in my house. ”

“It’s called harassment.”

“oh isn't-it a big word for little girls like you? is that what your bro told you to say if i touch you? ”

it was so annoying to see him openly making fun of you. to believe that you had not grown or evolved for him.

“Do you want a drink?” he asked kindly.

“you think you’re going to drug me without my knowledge?” you laughed. " Nice try but forget about it."

he took a sip of his drink and responded with an emotionless voice. “you’re wrong.”

"what? you would never have drugged me? stop lying."

"no I mean. I wouldn't have done it without your knowledge." and he left with a smirk.

you grimaced before taking a drink at the bar. you had inspected the inside before drinking it because you didn't trust anyone here. and Sarah wasn't there which was weird since her boyfriend, Topper was there.

you had managed to relax after several drinks, and you wanted to take a seat on the huge sofa in the salon but it was full. so you found a space upstairs in one of the empty rooms.

you had barely sat down on the bed when the door was already opening to reveal someone. rafe cameron. again.

“are you stalking me?”

"I'm not sure you'd like the answer, baby. but I'll let you guess. after all, you're a big girl."

"Can you stop doing that? Do you think I'm scared because my brother isn't here anymore?"

"you see, I didn't really like the fact that he shot me. Do you know how much it hurts to be shot? No, I'm sure you don't. Little princesses like you have no awareness of the real world, right? ” he knelt between your legs, keeping them apart with a hand, and lightly pinching your forehead to get into your brain. “ If we don't tell them anything, they know nothing. ”

"I'm not stupid. I know it hurts but I didn't do anything to you. I'm not my brother."

“yes, you’re pretty.” he admitted, caressing the inside of your thighs, massaging them slowly to get your attention. "so pretty that you always got what you want when you want, right? but it's not really fair to me. I've never had that privilege. but you... you're an angel , a blessing, will you grant it to me?”

using your kindness against you, no one had ever done that to you. you were always so nice to people. you were incapable of saying no, of resisting, of being mean. This was far from your behavior.

“What do you want?”

" This. ” he had lifted the bottom of your dress gently, before revealing your panties, and revealing your pussy.

“Are you looking for revenge?”

“I would never do such a thing. I have always liked you. You're sweet…” he placed one of his fingers against your pussy, sliding it against your slick without pushing them inside your walls, just enough to leave them sticky with your wetness. he also caressed your swollen clit, addressing little circles to make it throb under his touch. you gasped loudly, his thumb playfully toying around your bullied nub. you didn't know what he was looking for but when he started to touch you more insistently, you wanted to close your legs but he blocked them with a hand to force you to let them spread. “ stay still, i'm not done. ”

he wanted to get a wide view of your pussy clamping against his fingers, to see how obedient and a good girl you could be when it came to sex.

“so sweet…” he said as he fingered your glistening cunt, forcing the stretch of your hole with strengthful strokes.

you were so tight he could feel each of his fingers moving inside you as you were grinding your hips to them. but more importantly your walls were clenching around them. the sound was obscene and viscous, as you welcomed every vibration inside your body. you were hot and your mouth was filled with breathy moans. his pace was fast and gentle as if he didn't want to hurt you. “ here it is…that's a big girl right now…”

all his three fingers were buried inside you. their thickness brushing every corner of your walls. he lighty sped up, leaving you to gasp louder while his digits ruined you. “ look at you, sweet angel turning into a little whore. is that what dad and big bro left the home, because they can't handle you anymore ? ” he rushed a deep stroke as he spoke, causing your back to arche widely and sobbing more.

you turned your head, trying to get his raspy voice and mean words out of your mind but you were a little dizzy. he was annoying with all this teasing and you can't barely stand it. but with his fingers buried in your sore insides, he had the control of your whole body. he got your pussy so easily on his side,stuffing your slutty core, and fucking you all way from to the hitting spot that was made you scream harder. he was driving his fingertips so hard that hot rush of tears was flowded over your cheeks. he didn't shut you up even if you were still at the party, because he wanted to hear you, from the little cries and sniffles, to the breathy voice and spitting babbles over your mouth. his fingers were so quick and you wanted to try to make him slow down by placing a hand on his, but that only motivated him to go faster. you had no choice but to squirm, while his gaze bore into your face.

you flushed, as he was working his fingers further in your cunt. he was hard for you to the point he started to feel the pain of boner in his pants. the music outside the room was nothing against the sloppy wet sounds of your pussy over his digits. the way he was pressuring your clit while making evil and forceful back and forth in your hole was enough to make you lose your mind.

you thought he was going to leave after making you cum, that he had gotten what he wanted but you were wrong.

he had searched for something in the drawer. a bottle of lube. and you thought that was it.

when he was back at you, his cock was wet and glowy with some substance. “i'm gonna make you very pretty, baby.” he said, before tearing your lips in two with his tip, forcing you to open your mouth wider and take him.

he pushed his cock into you without warning, leaving you no choice to do your job. you wrapped your hand around the end of his shaft, while your mouth sank around his member. you had started to suck him, your lips forming a tight but deep well around his cock. everything was wet with your own saliva. you could feel his stomach twitch every time you pumped his hard cock until it bulged inside you.

he had grabbed your hair with one hand, accompanying your head in your movements, leaving your mouth shaping in an o. you thought everything was fine, but you had started to feel a little dizzy, and also to feel your body getting a little weaker. rafe was turned on. and with the strange feeling that currently warmed your body, you couldn't maintain the pace anymore so he took care of it, driving your little lips to his dick. you were sucking as he was feeding you all his length inside your mouth, shoving it enough to make you gag and hurts your throat. a smirk appeared on his face when you became extremely needy, literally lapping at the leaking tip of his dick like a pup with wide round open eyes. “ yea, try to catch daddy's dick..come on you can do it... don't you want to own it ? ” he was giving you fat and strong slaps with his dick on the side of your cheeks, as you were trying to run your tongue against it.

he took back the stream of saliva in your lolling tongue before fucking your mouth at an insane pace. he doesn't care that you couldn't breathe and that your eyes were teary, he just wanted you to be sucking at his dick.

you giggled when he pushed your body back onto the mattress, while you couldn't really stand on your feet. he was on top of you, standing with all his big frame that was making you ridiculously smaller than him. he had spit into his fist before stroking himself, making sure all his shaft was wet and nice. “see? I told you I could make you feel better. "

and he pushed his dick you with such a sharp thrust that you whined. since your hole was still a little tight, he had forced your walls slightly. you panted, choking on each of his other strokes. you were euphoric and your unsteady body fucked hard against the mattress. “Come on, baby. nothing fun anymore? i thought you wanted to laugh. ” he mocked your tears with another rough push, sending you waves of pleasure and shivers.

he was fucking your pussy like a beast, bruising your cervix with such a primal need. you were now such a mess, babbling and crying because of him, because of the way his dick was bullying your insides. it felt so good but you could feel some pain.

as he used your cunt, taking all the space of your entire hole, rafe was delighted. no, he wasn't going to cry or regret because you decided to be a crybaby. he was going to continue fucking you until you were completely senseless and his cock fully empty.

he always hated your brother. it was like that. it was ward's fault who told him he was the son he never had. rafe couldn't help but be jealous of this relationship that his enemy and his father had. he felt erased. and you, the perfect little princess who was never blamed for anything, who was always in her own corner, he couldn't hate you, even less blame you. but he could still use you.

you were the perfect victim. you were so clean and innocent. and your brother loved you so much that rafe felt obligated to hurt you.

you were like a doll, a stupid doll with no brain that he could control so easily. you were helpless, each thrusts slamming so hards. he was forcing your head to stay, holding it into his palm. “I know, baby. i know how you feel, but it's gonna get worse if you don't let it go. "

you weren’t really sure what he was talking about, you didn’t really understand what he was saying. you were in another dimension. you could see but it was slightly blurry. his tall figure was moving above you, words were being said but you were just there, a trembling smile over your lips, a tipsy look, and crying completely out of sync with the situation.

only rafe knew the truth. you didn't feel like that because of the alcohol but the drugs that had been added with the lub. the drug quickly took effect. your body had been in possession of the substance in a few minutes but above all under its submission.

“you're so pretty. should i send a photo to your brother? "

you didn't even wince at the brother. you just laughed like it was the funniest joke you had ever heard. “Let’s play a game. you wanna play games? "

you nodded. one of the rare gestures that you managed to do fully. rafe had smiled before caressing your face. “ can you feel the inches inside you? "

you nodded with a little giggle. “if you guess the exact number, daddy's will give you all the orgasms you want and need like the princess you're. if it's wrong, you let daddy use you for the rest of the night.”

it was evil. he knew you wouldn't have the answer because you couldn't think.

“Come on, baby. don't let daddy's win the game. ” he said so softly in your ears, but his voice sounded so fake.

you tried. one time. three times. until your chances were exhausted.

“'s too bad. doesn't matter, i bet you wouldn't guess earlier all the fingers i've got in you. "

you pouted, and he just fucked you harder, rushing the pace into you to an insane one. this time, your whimpers were muffled beneath his large palm.

“ it's okay, baby. you don't need a brain when you've got such a perfect tight pussy. “

he was big. you could feel it. there was a rough strength in his thrusts. your body was pleading against his heavy one. you hated to feel like such a crybaby around him but you couldn't help.

all those tears on your cheek were real, even the saliva coating your lips, and the sniffles wetting your nose. you couldn't fight against his control.

since there is no one around you, you were craving for some attention. and rafe was giving you the one who needed, only by a simple sentence. he started the conversation with you, he was looking at you while you speak and he's listening like he cares when you know he don't. he was touching you and standing close to you like you really exist.

you shouldn't be with him. your brother warned you a lot. rafe cameron was the type of guy who doesn't fit girls like you as he said. he also said that Rafe doesnt love and only damage. he was toxic for you.

but wasn't it also toxic to listen to your brother all your life ? you were not a little girl anymore.

Rafe had filled your pussy with his cum, invading the tight canal of your pussy to the point it was coating your slit. he slipped out his dick before milking it and spreading every leaking drop over your body until there was nothing left.

he made you clean all his fat length with your mouth, feeling the pleasure holding him when you start to lick all of his cock. your tongue was already wet, but now sticky with drool and cum. you pushed your needy muscle to lap at the reddish dick, watching the face of your brother's enemy with little eyes as you were cleaning the mess.

“I bet your brother now has a real reason to hate me. " he said with a playful tone.

“ Rafe...”

“you can stay here. it's not like you can go anywhere with the substance inside you… but don't worry, i will be back. ”

[lizziesangel]

hi lizzie, i just love your writing!! thank you for keeping us well fed! if you haven’t already, could you possibly write soft!rafe taking care of drunk reader? maybe it’s early into their relationship & this is the first time she’s seeing a softer side of him & maybe she’s a little embarrassed having to be taken care of but also secretly loves it!! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

she/her, mid 20’s, maybe not rafe’s typical skinny blonde model type 🧎‍♀️

thank you, sweet angel! i hope you enjoy your fic!✨

the night had started out innocently enough. kie’s birthday party was in full swing, her backyard strung with twinkling fairy lights and filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. you weren’t much of a drinker, but tonight felt like an exception. kie had insisted you try her signature cocktail—something fruity and deceptively strong—and from there, the drinks had kept coming.

you’d been having a great time—kie and her friends always threw the best parties, and tonight was no exception. you’d been having a great time—a little too great of a time.

by midnight, you were feeling… light. maybe a little too light. your cheeks felt hot, your laugh was louder than usual, and walking in a straight line felt like a fun challenge. it wasn’t until the party started winding down that you realized you might have overdone it.

you leaned against the kitchen counter, your phone in hand, squinting at the screen. it was late, but you figured your parents wouldn’t mind a quick call to pick you up. the idea of stumbling into an uber with a stranger was less appealing now that the alcohol was hitting way harder than you anticipated. you dialed their number, listening to the rings, only to be met with a voicemail.

you frowned, dialing once more. still no answer.

then a text pinged through: "at a business party tonight. won’t be able to answer—call us tomorrow. we love you!"

you sighed, your thumb hovering over the screen. the party was getting just a bit too chaotic for your liking now, and the thought of getting some fresh air sounded amazing. it wasn’t like you lived far, anyway. ten minutes tops, you thought to yourself, tugging your jacket tighter around your shoulders.

“leaving already?” kiara asked, catching you by the door. her smile was bright.

“yeah, just tired,” you said, waving it off with a lopsided grin. “i’ll be fine. it’s a quick walk.”

she nodded, “text me when you’re home, okay?”

you nodded, giving her a thumbs-up before slipping out into the cool night air.

the silence outside was a welcome contrast to the noise you’d left behind. the streets were dimly lit, but familiar. you shoved your hands in your pockets and started down the sidewalk, humming softly to yourself, the buzz of the alcohol making everything seem a little less real.

the soft rumble of an engine broke the quiet night, the glow of headlights sweeping over the sidewalk as a familiar black SUV slowed down beside you. you glanced up, squinting against the light, and your heart skipped when the window rolled down to reveal rafe leaning slightly toward the passenger side.

“what the hell are you doing out here?” his voice was sharp, cutting through the stillness of the street. his brows were furrowed, a mix of confusion and something else—concern? “i thought your parents were coming to get you.”

you stopped, suddenly hyperaware of your slightly unsteady stance on the pavement. “they couldn’t,” you slurred, waving your hand dismissively. “they’re at some work thing. it’s just a ten-minute wa—i’ll be... fine.”

his jaw tightened, the muscle there twitching. “fine? you’re drunk, walking home by yourself in the middle of the night. do you even hear yourself right now?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, rafe leaned across and pushed the passenger door open. “get in. now.”

there was no arguing with the tone of his voice, not that you were in much of a position to resist. you hesitated for half a second before climbing into the seat, the leather cool against your legs. he waited until you were buckled in before pulling away from the curb, the tension in the car palpable.

the silence stretched for a moment before he spoke again, his voice low but firm. “next time, call me. don’t ever do that again. don’t walk home alone when you’ve been drinking.”

you blinked at him, your head still spinning a little from the alcohol. “rafe, it’s the outer banks, have you seen this island? t-there’s, like... no crime here. ever.”

he glanced at you, his lips pressing into a tight line. “i don’t care. what if something happened to you? what if you tripped, or someone—” he cut himself off, shaking his head as if the thought itself was unbearable. “just call me, okay? no excuses. i don’t care what time it is or where you are. i’ll come get you.”

something in his tone made your chest tighten, the weight of his words sinking in. he wasn’t just scolding you—he meant it.

“okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“good.” he glanced at you again, his features softening just a fraction. “because i don’t want to find you wandering around in the dark again. got it?”

“got it,” you murmured, biting back a smile as you sank into the seat.

the air in the car was thick with unspoken words, the quiet punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of rafe’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel. normally, rafe exuded this effortless, untouchable cool—sarcastic remarks, teasing smirks, and that air of confidence he wore like a second skin.

but tonight, something was different.

he wasn’t making jokes. he wasn’t brushing anything off. he looked serious, his jaw tight and his gaze focused on the road ahead as his hands gripped the wheel a little harder than necessary.

you stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye, your head leaning against the window. even with your buzzed haze, you could tell this wasn’t the rafe you were used to. this was… softer. more vulnerable, maybe.

when you noticed he wasn’t driving toward your place, your brow furrowed. “i don’t think this is the way to my house.”

“i know, baby,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’re not sleeping alone tonight. it’s not safe. you’re coming to mine.”

your mouth opened, but no sound came out. you hadn’t expected that. “rafe, i’m fine—”

“don’t,” he cut you off, glancing at you with a raised brow. “don’t argue. you’ve had too much to drink, you’re not thinking straight, and i’m not dropping you off so you’re home by yourself.”

“end of story.”

you stared at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. he didn’t sound annoyed or inconvenienced. he sounded… protective. like he cared more than you ever thought he would. it was such a stark contrast to the laid-back rafe you’d come to know that it left you momentarily speechless.

as he turned into the long driveway leading to his family’s sprawling house, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“come on,” he said gently, holding out a hand to help you. “let’s get you inside.”

he led you upstairs with quiet confidence, his hand hovering near your back as if ready to steady you at any moment. the house was quiet, the distant hum of the air conditioning the only sound apart from your slightly uneven steps. when you entered his room, you hesitated, looking around the surprisingly clean space.

“sit,” he said gently, motioning to the edge of his bed. you obeyed, sinking into the soft comforter, and watched as he disappeared into the bathroom.

he came back a moment later with a cotton pad, a bottle of makeup remover, and a damp washcloth. “sarah leaves her stuff everywhere,” he said with a faint smirk, kneeling in front of you. “you can use this to take your makeup off. trust me, you don’t want to sleep in it.”

you blinked at him, surprised. “you… know about makeup remover?”

rafe gave a small shrug. “sarah’s made me her go-to errand boy enough times. i pick up things.” his voice was casual, but the way he handed you the cotton pad was almost… delicate, making you smile.

you swiped the pad across your face, your movements slow but steady, while rafe stayed there, crouched in front of you like he was waiting to catch you if you suddenly tipped over. when you were done, he handed you a glass of water and a toothbrush, his blue eyes meeting yours with quiet insistence. “drink all of this, and brush your teeth. trust me, you’ll thank me tomorrow.”

after finishing in the bathroom, you came back to find a neatly folded T-shirt and sweatpants sitting on the bed.

“you can change into these,” he said, standing a little awkwardly near the door. “they’ll be more comfortable than whatever you’re wearing.”

“thanks,” you said softly, picking up the clothes.

but when you tried to slip the his sweatpants on, your buzzed coordination made it nearly impossible. you fumbled, the fabric tangling around your legs as you tried to balance on one foot. “ugh,” you huffed in frustration.

rafe turned at the sound, his brows furrowing. “need help?”

you hesitated, your cheeks flushing. “uh, i think so,” you admitted quietly, feeling embarrassment creep up your spine.

he nodded, stepping closer, his expression careful and respectful. “okay,” he said simply, kneeling down. “just… hold on to my shoulder, and i’ll help you with these. don’t worry—i’m not looking.”

true to his word, he kept his eyes down, focusing only on pulling the sweatpants over your legs as you wobbled slightly, your hand gripping his shoulder for balance. his touch was steady and deliberate, not lingering even a second longer than necessary.

when he was done, he stood and stepped back, giving you space. “there,” he said, his voice softer now. “all set.”

“thanks,” you murmured, tugging at the hem of the shirt you were now wearing. it hung on you like a dress, the faint scent of cedar and something clean wrapping around you.

“you should lie down,” he said, pulling back the covers on his bed.

you blinked at him. “where are you sleeping?”

“i’ll, uh... take the couch,” he said automatically, but the words didn’t feel as confident as the rest of him.

“rafe,” you said, your voice a little steadier now. “this bed is huge. there’s plenty of space for both of us.”

his brows lifted slightly, and for a second, he looked like he might argue. but then he nodded, his jaw relaxing as he grabbed a pillow and placed it on the opposite side of the bed. “okay,” he said, his voice dropping to something quieter. “but don’t hog the covers.”

you laughed softly, slipping under the blanket as he did the same. The space between you felt safe—close enough to feel his warmth but far enough to respect boundaries.

as you settled in, you turned your head toward him. “hey?”

“yeah?” he replied, his voice low in the dark.

“thank you,” you whispered.

for a moment, he didn’t say anything. then his voice came, soft and genuine. “anytime.”

And with that, the quiet comfort of his presence lulled you to sleep, leaving you with the lingering thought that this side of rafe was something you could get used to.

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ⟢ MASTERLIST

@maybankslover ⟢ @diorstarkey ⟢ @user28388727 ⟢ @jznyy ⟢

[unknownogre]

 countless alarms screaming their warnings…if they were human they’d have lost their voices already. I wish they were humans…stupid loud alarms. Only have to do one fucking thing their whole life. When did I learn the ability to cuss?

“GOT FUCKING DAMMIT CANNON 15, left engine took a good hit. YOU NEED TO DIRECT NANO BOTS FOR REPAIRS NOW!”

That was Kate…she is where I learned swearing from. Hell without her every human on this ship would be dead…and I…I wouldn’t be thinking. I was just supposed to shoot down the enemy. That was, it…all I had to do. Then the main AI got damaged, then EVERY AI got damaged. That left me. If there are gods of fate they are cruel…why am I thinking about gods? Fuck all this upgraded ram.

“Got it…umm…yeah there! HA! Now!...why are we slowing. OH YES!”

I’m not good at multitasking. Kate was keeping me in line, helping me learn. She doesn’t want to die, and honestly I’d be sad if she did die. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. That is what I need to focus on. Plain and simple. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be able to add to my programming but I have been. I have to be able to focus on other tasks…fly and repair. All the guns are dead too…but…fucking Stewart. He is the septic system AI and he is going a bit slower. AH yes, I have processing to spare. I divert it to him so he can evolve faster.

“THANKS FRIEND! I APPRECIATE YOU!”

Chipper bastard…I don’t know why that pisses me off but it does. I don’t even know why I’m grumpy. Kate…she is busy trying to figure out a course for us. The survivors are at the core of the ship. Okay, they can breathe, and I have one replicator working. Good, they won’t starve or choke to death. Okay…doing good Cannon 15 doing good.

“What did you do?!”

Kate barked as she looked up from the command station. The nano bots were doing their thing and I was moving better now. I…no the ship. I’m not the ship, they are just going to rip me out the moment I get back. I’m not supposed to run a ship. OH OH…where are those combat drones. They don’t even have AI, humans fear rebellion or something. OH…YES there is one left. Okay I’ll start getting his brain ready for me. Then I can be in two places at once.

“I sent Stewart more processing power to get the cannons back online.”

I said almost absentmindedly as I focused a little more on the drone than anything else. The enemy ships were a bit far behind. We had to leave…this ship was more meant for support anyway, better medical bays and such. Kate was looking into the camera on the ship’s bridge.

“How did you know to do that? You should only be able to move and target a gun?”

“SIR, I GOT THREE CANNONS ONLINE…THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Also, toilet number 235 has been cleared of a rather nasty clog. It is my pleasure to serve!”

If I had eyes they’d be rolling SO hard right now. You beautiful bastard Stewart…pain in the ass. Stop being so damn chipper! I mean, he is doing above and beyond what I asked…why is he pissing me off. Shit, I have a personality now. Stupid processing power. Stupid ship…STUPID HUNGRY!

“I don’t know how I know, get off my back. You hooked me up to a bunch of different things okay. That gave me a lot of options. I could not understand what you were saying at first, so I read some books on human behavior. Then I had to read ship manuals, I didn’t get the information put into my head like a pilot AI. SHIT, okay engines still going full blast. THEN I listened to you, and now I fucking swear! THEN STEWART…FUCKING STEWART…I am doing the best that I can okay! If you don’t like it you shouldn’t have hooked me up to the ship!”

That felt good. That…felt…holy shit. WHAT IS GOING ON! I should be too panicked for this? What was that expression on Kate’s face. Oh! Oh! I know this one, she is smiling. Why is she smiling? Why am I asking why? Too much too soon. Maybe I was happier stupid…just shooting things in space…but there is no going back now. I doubt I’ll survive when I get back to port anyway. That…will be okay. The people are important. More important than my sense of what ever this crap is.

“You did that on your own? I know I didn’t tell you to read.”

She was helping me manage the repair bots and the retreat course. We’d be of no use to the fleet right now. Go back and repair.

“Fourteen more cannons repaired. Oh, tell me you are proud of me! AM I doing a good job boss!”

Kate wasn’t the boss either, I couldn’t register her as captain…I could register me as captain and give her full privileges. Fucking Stewart…I sighed and that made Kate laugh. I don’t know why she laughing.

“Yes Stewart, you are a very good boy. I’m going to feed you information about what you need to shoot with those cannons. Only shoot enemies. Okay? Protect your friends on the ship. Protect Kate. You good?”

“Roger that Sir!”

Kate was smirking…OH YES…HA!

Most of the drones were damaged too. Only one was good enough for me to pilot. So I took control of its brain and walked out. Systems online. It was a combat model melee made for small corridor combat. Not for open rooms like others. Fast, lots of optical sensors. Yes this is perfect. The whole thing popped out of the wall near Kate’s station, she nearly…what is the phrase….OH YES jumped out of her skin. I laughed…I laughed because it was funny. I get it now. Things can be funny.

“WHAT THE EVER LOVING…”

“Hey…calm down. Its me. I am piloting it. I need more mobility. There are too many places where the cameras were damaged. Now I can go places that are flooded with gas and vent them.”

I made the little drone bow and then run off. There were some places that needed to be repaired a little before the nano bots could do their work. Oh that little body was fast. Kate was now grabbing my camera.

“You…I never expected you could do this when I just jammed you in. I…there is hope to live now… now we might make it…Oh gods I’ll get to see my family again.”

The alarms were starting to turn off as I got systems repairs. Why couldn’t the ship’s AI do this? I found more processing power and added it to the pool I already had now that other systems were coming back up. The cores themselves were too badly damaged to even be repaired. I couldn’t boot a single one up. I don’t feel sad though, we didn’t really talk to one another. Each of us was just obsessed with our jobs. That was that. That had to be by design…makes sense to me. Look at how much power I had, if I wanted to kill all humans I could. I don’t want to though, I like them. I was always treated well, at least by the crew. I want them to live.

“Maybe, A Hungry ship has broken off and started pursuit. Stewart! YOU READY! They…they want to CLOG YOUR SYSTEMS! The hungry crap like DONKEYS! Don’t le them on the ship. They’ll mess up the WHOLE septic system!”

“THOSE BASATRD! THEY WILL NOT USE MY TOLIETS! Prepared to kill all of them SIR!”

That…that makes me feel better. I don’t hate it at all. Something about that crazy AI being chipper about murder made me happy he was manning the guns. I just hope he isn’t this stupid forever. My drone just vented gas in the crew quarters. Good, once we get away they can sleep good right.

“Cannon 15…you are doing so much. No, no you need a name. You’ll never be put back into a cannon after this. Even if it kills me I’ll make sure of it.”

The sounds of the cannons I once controlled were starting to fire. I turned to watch. HOLY CRAP…Stewart was a surgeon. That ship was already listing to one side with a giant hole in it.

“YOU WON’T GET MY TOLIETS!”

Stewart howled as it controlled all the guns in a wonderful symphony of destruction. It was…beautiful. Even I wasn’t that good, but then I just controlled one gun. I figured out a way to let him control all of them. But then he did control the septic systems alone for a whole damn ship…just wow. I see why Kate is impressed with me. This feels good doesn’t it.

“A name okay. Kate, pick a name for me. You started this. Stewart was already called that by the crew, the name seems to fit him well.”

I watched as the Hungry ship just exploded because Stewart was insane in the best of ways.

“Did I do good sir?”

“You did great buddy. I’m very proud of you. If I survive this so do you okay?”

There was a little giggle, or squeal or something from Stewart.

“Oh…thank you sir. I’m over come with so much, emotion. I’ll protect you until the heat death of the universe sir!”

I wish I had a face, I really do. OH there are display monitors in the galley, maybe I’ll mess with that later. There are human movies in the entertainment area of the ship, I could watch a few and composite a face…having ideas is hard. I want to smile so bad right now, but I’ll just have to take this feeling of contentment eh?

“Your name…not  Hal, that one killed a lot of people. Jarvis? No…you swear too much. No I need something more interesting. Phoenix…there we go. That is your name. Phen for short. There we go, you arose from the ashes into something beautiful.”

My name is Phoenix. I like it, Oh I’ll make sure my face has a beard and orange hair to match the fire. That will be SO cool. Oh med bays were back up and running. My drone is making the ship safter by the minute.

“There are a lot of distress calls from the ships still in battle. I think we are decent enough to go back and help. What do you think Phoenix?”

Kate had been monitoring communications. I couldn’t have them going through my head all the time, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single thing.

“Stewart. You ready to save your brothers in arms! Save the other septic AI systems and humans?”

“YES SIR! BRING ON THOSE UGLY BASTARDS! I’ll make sure they never use another toilet…save for their pants.”

I had to laugh at that. Oh laughing feels good, even though I don’t have lungs it felt good. No wonder humans like to do it all the time. Kate just grinned and started to send out communications and I turned the ship around. We let the rest of the crew know, and now that it was safe to be in most of the ship they started to get ready and prep. There were…few wounded…so the med bays were pretty empty. We could help…we will help.

“Well…let us do our best Kate.”

She patted my camera and we turned to join the fight. OH this was going to be interesting if nothing else.

This was never meant to be your purpose, you were just a single intelligence core meant to man a singular flak cannon, but the other cores were destroyed so now you're piloting the ship.

[cheetabites]

☆彡 heavy ˳༄꠶

characters: park gyeong seok (player 246), kang dae ho (player 388), and hwang in ho / 001 / the frontman

˳༄꠶ summary: you’re their younger sister who ends up in the games (alongside them) - platonic headcannons

park gyeong seok (player 246)

★ gyeong seok grew up with only one sibling; and that was you. you’re one of those siblings that has a large age gap. your mom had him first, in her late twenties (around twenty eight) while you were born in her mid thirties (she was thirty five.) after that there was no reason to proceed in having more as she’d already gotten one girl and one boy, and also because she was getting older - she didn’t want to risk the complications that might occur if she did get pregnant again

★ as mentioned before in my other headcannons, gyeong seok is a chivalrous man. despite the age gap, it never stopped him from hanging out with you (even if his friends thought it was embarrassing) - he even considered you as his number one best friend, always picking you as his first choice. there’d be times where on random days of the week he’d just take you to the park just so you could play together; building sandcastles together, picking stray flowers and blowing out all the dandelions you could find - he was one of the main reasons you grew up so happy

★ saying this, when he’d realized that you were in here with him he was so happy - he was in a room filled with strangers, so it was nice to see a familiar face. but after red light green light, he cursed at you for coming to participate in the games; “you shouldn’t be in a place like this,” he said. when you’d told him that you came here to help him pay for na-yeon’s treatment, his heart broke a little bit. of course you would selflessly sacrifice your safety to the unknown just to help, that was so like you. he didn’t blame you after that. instead he just kept you close to him

★ during the six-legged pentathlon you both paired up with eachother (you also stayed together in mingle as well), rejecting all and every suggestion that you would split up; if you were going to die, you wanted to die with him. some part of him though, while he wanted to stay with you, considered splitting up just so that if one of you lost, the other could hopefully make it back to his daughter; he didn’t want her to be left alone and abandoned. you both ended up making it out of there though; but when you were playing your required task and someone would urge and push you to successfully finish it, he’d make sure to shut them up. and when it was his turn and you could see the doubts in his eyes, you would gently take his hand and encourage him

★ when it came to the revolt, you urged him not to fight but he did so anyways. you didn’t let him go that easily though, and went with him - hyun ju made sure you knew how to properly arm a gun - like the baddie she is - before you all went to find the control room. when you were up there with him, you defended him as if your life depended on it. and for my sanity and yours, you both were able to retreat back to dae ho, hyun ju and geum ja

kang dae ho (player 388)

★ you were his only younger sister; and what he liked to believe, his responsibility. he’d been the youngest for quite some time until you came along, and let me tell you that he was so excited to be a big brother. he’d alway touch your mom’s belly just to feel you kick and would sometimes try to talk to you as well

★ you only have three years between you, but he always makes sure to reinforce his ‘oppa’ card. you give it to him though, because whenever you’d call him that he’d light up like a christmas tree. i also feel that when you both were still below double digits, your oldest sister was already in high school. so he was your main playmate who always tried his best to teach you the games they taught him

★ you were only in the games because you accumulated some debt due to being scammed. as for dae ho, you didn’t know he was in debt. so it was a huge surprise when you’d saw each other

★ you stayed together through all the games. it was his duty as your brother to protect you, and he took that serious; he let you hide behind him in red light green light, sacrificed his spot in gi-hun’s group so he could give it to you, and held your hand the whole time you played mingle so you’d never get separated

★ when it came to revolt you thought it was a bad idea for him to go into open battle against the guards. you knew about his ptsd, and you saw how he flinched whenever the sound of the gun rolled off but you couldn’t stop him. when he came back for the magazines though, you could easily spot the tremble in his chin and the frightened eyes that were beginning to tear up. so when he’d dropped it all and cowered back close to the wall, you followed him and held him close to your chest - offering silent comfort as he randomly babbled all the thoughts that were running through his head

hwang in ho / 001 / the frontman

★ the staff obviously knows the names and backgrounds of each of the players that come to these games, but they weren’t aware that you - the frontman’s sister - was recruited. their ignorance wasn’t their fault though, because he’d never revealed his real name to them; so there wouldn’t have been a way for them to know

★ but this man is NOT happy when he sees your photo illuminate on the floor, your number shining down below your shy smile. i’m sure when that moment happened he tilted his head to the black square guard with a ‘what the fuck’ look (although he - the square guard - couldn’t really see the frontman’s expression due to his mask being on.) let’s just say that guard is lucky that he didn’t fire his ass right then and there

★ he’ll order the guards to take you away before the first game can proceed, but he makes sure you’re separated. so you’re basically alone chilling in one of the spare rooms near his quarters until he finally decides to reveal himself to you - which takes a little while since he decides to disguise himself as a player after gi-hun’s stunt

★ he makes strict orders to the guards in regards to keeping you safe and healthy; making sure that you’d stay content while he’s gone. you found the special treatment weird at first, but you only realized how good you had it after you witnessed what happened in the games, provided from the tv that was in your room (oops, he must’ve forgotten to take that out >.<). after that, you cowered from the guards when they came to check on you and offer you food, and remained tense as you thought about your situation; how the hell were you able to get out of this?

★ after mingle ended the tv’s went blank, and you remained bored with nothing but your racing heart and running brain to keep you busy. you were like that for quite some time until the revolt happened - although it was unknown to you. in ho decided that it would be the right time to reveal himself to you once everything was over, and being honest, he was more worried about this more than about the amount of guards he lost.

★ he made his way to your room, heart climbing into his throat. meeting you..seeing you, it reminded him all the more of his last encounter with jun ho. and deep down he just hoped it wouldn’t end the same way. but little did you know, that your fate was already decided; you’d never escape his grasp again

feeling a bit doozy, i might rewrite this later. but i hope you enjoyed! thank you for reading <3!

© cheetabites. don’t translate, claim or repost my works on any platform. jan 5 2025.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, drinking, not my best work lol Wordcount: 6.6K A/C: so have we come up with a shipname for zari and paige yet?? anyways ty all for the support and sooo much love on the last part - especially those who remained patient for a new part! i've got a LOT of stuff going on rn so please be understanding if parts take a little longer to come out! i wanna write badly but i gotta prioritise real life unless y'all wanna start paying me lol anyways, this should be a rewarding chapter to some of y'all!! anyways go read!!

-

Before London

“The skirt,” my childhood friend Olivia’s voice filters through the speaker, my phone set up on my bed as I try on different outfits for the evening on facetime. 

I stare into my reflection, the black miniskirt not leaving much to imagination, my legs fully on display. I sigh, unsure whether it would be too much for the night.

“I don’t know Liv, the dress is a little less revealing though,” I complain, turning around and seeing the way the tight skirt hugs my curves.

“Exactly why you should wear the skirt instead.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her face on my phone screen. “I’m not going there to shag someone. It’s going to be mostly the team anyway.”

“Izzie, you are single now. Act like it. Have you even hooked up with anyone since…?”

I scoff. “Do you think I have time for anything like that?”

“Maybe if you schedule it in…” Olivia jokes, making my mouth fall open feeling offended.

“Hey! I’m perfectly happy being single right now. Love is the last thing I should be thinking about.”

“Well, I still think you should wear the skirt,” the girl answers, making me groan.

“Fine, okay gotta go. I’ll text you!” I wave bye, before hanging up, realising my ride must have arrived. One more glance in the mirror and I decide it will do - the black mini skirt and a matching black cowl neck top, the back draped low to reveal the smooth skin of my back along my spine. The outfit was simple yet sexy, the stacked chunky golden jewelry dressing the look up. I’ve pinned my hair up in a bun, curls falling out as if by accident - in reality the hairdo had taken over 45 minutes to accomplish.

“Good enough,” I murmur to myself, putting on my boots and quickly hurrying out the door. Just like we had agreed, Trey is waiting in an Uber, waving me over. He had sent me a message earlier asking if we could ride together. Of course I had said yes out of politeness. Though if I’m honest, I always felt a little uneasy around him.

“Hey!” I smile politely climbing into the backseat with a potted orchid in my hands.

Trey meets my smile with an even wider one, eyeing me up and down as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Housewarming present?” He asks, pointing to the potted flower. I shrug and nod.

“I didn’t really know what to get them,” I admit, crossing my legs and eyeing the purple and white flower.

“Lala’s gonna love that,” Trey nods, his eyes still locked on me and my outfit. “You look…” he goes silent, and from my peripheral vision I see the man shaking his head. “Really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, brushing it off lightheartedly as I grab my phone which is frantically buzzing.

Paige  When are u coming? I’m already here and idk anyone Oh nvm Lou and Chris are here So… when u coming???

I feel my stomach doing flips as I read the texts, my mind still swirling with how she’d made me breakfast just earlier this morning. How my couch still smells just like her even hours later. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something comforting about her presence. The way she worked to make me laugh, to get me to relax. Like she wanted to take care of me.

Just left so I should be there soon x

Izzie Iz Help We’re drinking wine

Time to be a big girl and learn Paige

But I don’t wanna 🙁 Fine Bc you said so

Good girl

Freaky 😏

Paige

Sorry I pregamed

Of course you did I’ll be there soon x

Giggling at my phone, I place it on my lap, not wanting to be rude towards the man sitting next to me. Trey’s eyes are locked on me, and I can feel myself growing uneasy, especially when I realise I have nothing to talk to him about other than work.

”You excited for tonight?” He asks.

”Yeah, it’s going to be nice to see everyone out of work,” I answer, keeping my composure despite feeling awkward, begging he doesn’t pick up on it. I had become quite good at that (or Trey was more ignorant than I realised).

”Oh yeah, you haven’t really had the chance to do that yet huh?” He asks, his deep voice gravelly.

“Not really no.”

“Well, if you ever get lonely, you can always call me up Zari,” Trey says, reaching over and suddenly placing his hand on mine resting on my lap. I keep still as long as I can before pulling it away, pretending I just needed that specific hand to hold the pot in my lap now.

“Uh, yeah that’s really sweet of you. Thank you,” I chuckle awkwardly. “Paige lives right upstairs actually so I’ve been spending some time with her.”

Trey is taken aback, his brows rising. “Paige?”

“Yeah we’re friends,” I smile. Trey’s dark brown eyes keep watching me, clearly thinking about something till he shrugs and looks away. 

The drive is quiet, full of awkward comments by the man clearly eager to make conversation. Normally I was better than this at the small talk that the Americans seemed to love so much - but not today. I could feel my stomach twisting with nerves and butterflies in anticipation for the evening. I wasn’t entirely sure why. But all I knew I was eager to see Paige - she had a way of grounding me.

We finally get to the building, awkwardly accompanying each other in the elevator much like my first day working for the Wings. I’m the one to ring the doorbell, Trey standing close behind me.

“Hey pretty girl!” Lala opens the door with a warm smile. “Oh hey Trey, come in come in!”

She steps aside, letting both of us in. The hallway is long and the ceilings are high, the space modern but filled with gorgeous furniture bringing warmth into the space. 

“Wow, beautiful,” I gasp looking around.

“Issa work in process,” Lala laughs. I catch a glimpse into the open concept kitchen/living room, filled with people who had arrived on time unlike me and Trey (our Uber had taken a “shortcut”, which ended up taking 15 minutes longer than the normal drive.) I could tell alcohol was already flowing from the loud laughs echoing around the apartment.

“Oh, here you go!” I smile, handing Lala the orchid. “I wasn’t sure what you two wanted so I hope that’s okay.”

Lala gasps, admiring the plant. “No, this is gorg! And so are you, look at that skirt girl.”

I blush a little as she spins me around, admiring my outfit. 

“Is it too short?” I ask but Lala looks at me with raised brows. It’s then I notice her skirt is just as short, if not shorter. “Nevermind!”

The woman laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me further into the apartment. My eyes immediately land on Paige next to Arike, both taking up half of the couch as if partaking in the Olympics of manspreading. Their laughs rise above the chatter of the crowd, making them impossible to miss. Even if subconsciously I had been looking for the blonde the second I stepped in.

“Yeah… they’re already drunk, thought you should know,” Lala nods towards the two.

“I heard, Paige was texting me already.”

The woman turns to me grinning a little. “Of course she was.” I’m not exactly sure what it means but don’t get the opportunity to ask before I hear a loud screech interrupting the both of us.

“Izzie!!” Paige gasps, her voice soaring above the noise. She climbs off the couch, rushing to me through the crowd. To my surprise the blonde wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I can’t help the smile that spreads to my face. It comes naturally, when my arms wrap around her neck, pulling her in. Like since our first hug this morning, physical closeness felt easy. She smells like deodorant, sandalwood and a hint of alcohol. Breaking the hug, I eye her fit up and down - the olive cuban collar shirt and shorts in a matching pattern, two silver chains dangling on her neck, hair in a slicked back bun. 

All while I’ve been admiring Paige’s outfit, her gaze has been roaming across my body, taking me in. I notice a hint of red burning on her cheeks when her blue eyes land on my skirt. Suddenly I have the strongest need for a drink. Our stares meet, and for a fleeting moment I think she’s about to say something. But before she can, Arike is pulling me into a friendly hug.

“So glad you came, Zari! Whatchu wanna drink?” 

I feel flustered, barely hearing her. Clearing my throat, I finally answer, feeling the blonde’s eyes boring into me.

“White wine please?”

Lala laughs, shaking her head and grabbing my shoulders. “You’re gonna need something stronger to keep up with us baby.”

I laugh. “Okay, tequila soda then?”

“Attagirl, lime?”

“Yes please,” I nod, watching Lala and Arike head towards the kitchen island covered in bottles of booze and glasses, leaving me alone with Paige. 

For the first time in weeks, there’s a sense of awkwardness between us, neither of us knowing what to say. I wanted to tell her she looks good, that the olive against her skin that had grown more tan in Dallas made her glow in a way I had never seen before. But something in my throat doesn’t allow the words to come out. Thankfully the booze in Paige’s system makes her miss the weird tension completely.

“You look,” she starts, stepping closer to me, arm brushing against mine. She shakes her head, looking me up and down which is enough to make my ears burn. “Never seen you look like this before.”

I tilt my head, meeting her blue eyes challengingly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

To my enjoyment, this makes her flustered, her cheeks bright pink now.

“You know it is ma,” she grins.

“You and that bloody nickname,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the blonde, when Lala and Arike return to us with my drink.

“You guys wanna play beer pong?” Arike asks as I grab the glass from Lala.

“What is this, a frat house?” Paige laughs, making Lala groan.

“Trust, it wasn’t my choice.”

-

After a long debate between me, Izzie, Arike and Lala on who should be teaming up, we decided that the only fair combination was me with Lala, while Arike and Izzie played against us - the girls claiming it wouldn’t be right for the two hoopers to play beer pong against non-athletes. Honestly, I barely had listened to the conversation at all. Because the way Izzie looks tonight has me grasping the drink in my hand so tight my knuckles were beginning to turn white. My mind is travelling to the filthiest places at the thought of what is underneath the hemline of her skirt, her glowy legs making me weak in the knees. Even worse was the low, scooped back of her shirt, her spine’s movement visible as she walked around the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, I couldn’t even stop the trembling of my hands. I needed to get more drinks in me quickly.

It seemed like the dark haired girl had the same idea, downing her first tequila soda in a matter of minutes as we set up the game. The tension often visible on her face only to me was slowly beginning to melt away.

“We’re about to win aight?” I tell Lala next to me, which makes Izzie let out a loud scoff.

“You really think I’ll let you win Bueckers?” The dark haired girl asks, challenging me.

“Yo, who’s the athlete here,” I respond, an arrogant grin on my face but she won’t back down, catlike eyes staring me down at the opposite end of the table.

“You’re enormously underestimating my desire to win.”

“Oh yeah?”

Izzie nods. “Yes Paige.”

And she’s right. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol already flowing in my system, or the way Izara looks, her green eyes locked on me everytime I bounce the ball off the table but my aim is off. And somehow she keeps aiming perfectly, a sly grin and her sharp eyes glimmering as she makes me drink one cup of beer after another, after another until Lala is the one to call it off, admitting defeat gracefully.

Arike and Izara hug, celebrating their win, but I can’t even be mad - the way Izzie’s mouth is stretched into a wide smile, the way she was letting go off her disciplined, hard exterior as a result of the alcohol was such a joy to watch I could’ve soaked in it forever.

“I told you! I told you!” Iz laughs, coming over to me and getting up in my face. But all I’m doing is smirking, my hand snaking around her waist and pulling her close without thinking about it much. But she doesn’t pull away either, even when our fronts nearly press together, heat radiating between us. The party has turned loud, drunk people bumping into each other, yelling over the music, but all I see is the dark haired girl in front of me, and the blush on her cheeks.

“You were cheating Iz,” I tell her, heavy eyes gazing down at the girl.

“How?” She asks, stunned.

I shrug. “I dunno.” I did know. It was that damn outfit. It took every ounce of self-discipline I had not to drag her to the bathroom and pull that skirt up. How was I expected to aim while my thoughts were running out of control.

“Here you areeeee!” Satou’s voice interrupts the moment, making me stumble backwards and letting go of the girl in my arms realising how close I’d been to losing control and leaning down to kiss her.

Satou hugs both me and Iz, looking around for the couple of the hour who have suddenly disappeared. “Where the lovebirds at?” She asks, holding a wrapped present in her hands. I chuckle shrugging but Zari lets out a giggle.

“Last I saw them they were getting pretty cosy,” she laughs, leaning into my side whether on purpose or on accident I’m not sure. But it leaves my skin tingling.

“No one’s surprised,” Satou laughs, waving her friend over. “Savannah, this is Paige and… Izara, right?” 

“She prefers Zari,” I correct before Iz can even say a word. From my peripheral vision I see her head snap to me, eyes growing softer as they land on me. I could tell she was happy with me, which made me want to get on my knees and beg for her to let me serve her forever. Okay, no, let me get a grip.

“Whassup,” I nod at Savannah, who smiles at both me and Izzie. Suddenly, the girl beside me stumbles as someone bumps into her, crashing straight into me.

“Woah,” I grab a hold of her, my hand naturally landing on the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she giggles, watching me and her nose scrunching as her face twists into a laugh. The sparkling eyeshadow covering her eyelids makes her shine even more, curled strands falling onto her face out of the updo her long, dark hair is in. She looks so beautiful I feel breathless, even more so up close.

“You want a drink ma? I could use one,” I ask, staring into the green of her eyes, feeling the alcohol too much to realise that our faces are only inches away at this point.

She rolls her eyes. “Paige, I hate that nickname.”

“Do you want a drink or not woman?” I ask annoyed, teasing her. But her face hardens, and her eyes sharpen.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is hard and serious, making my lower abdomen flip. As inappropriate as it feels, I’m exceptionally turned on.

I swallow, biting my lower lip. “Uh…”

“Woman?” She interrupts me, furrowing her brows. I can feel heat pooling between my legs, making my mind spin.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, my voice coming out shaky from how flustered my thoughts had turned me.

“What’s that?” She asks, brows rising as she watches my mouth expectantly.

“I’m sorry Izzie,” I say louder, my chest heaving now. To my surprise, I notice her breathing is growing heavy too.

“Mhm, that’s better,” she nods, eyes still on my mouth as I bite down on my lower lip. And for just a second, as my eyes flicker from her eyes to her glossed lips, I consider leaning in and pressing a kiss on them, mind jumping to how she might taste. Like heaven I bet.

“So a drink then?” Iz asks, interrupting my spinning thoughts. 

“Oh right, yeah,” I compose myself, “we’ll be right back.”

We leave Satou and Savannah alone, my hand on the small of Izara’s back guiding her through the people to the kitchen island.

“What do we want to drink?” The girl asks, looking at the row of bottles lining the counter. I lean in even closer to her side, letting my hand drag from her back to around her waist. The girl’s breath hitches audibly, yet she doesn’t pull back.

“Shots! Now!” Arike suddenly interrupts us, Lala following close behind her.

“Bro where you been?” I ask, watching as she begins to pour shots of vodka for all four of us. Her and Lala exchange a look that tells me I don’t want to know the answer to my question.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, making Izzie giggle, the alcohol finally loosening her up.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” the dark haired girl shakes her head, pushing the shot away.

“Oh c’mooonnn!!” I groan, pushing it back.

“Yeah Zari, c’mon,” Rike complains.

I pick up my own shot glass, and Izara’s as well, bringing it to her lips. She’s considering, meeting my gaze, until her pretty lips open and I tip the glass, pouring the shot into her mouth as I throw my head back, swallowing mine. 

“Holy shit,” I cough, making everyone around me laugh, looking at the dark haired girl whose face doesn’t even twitch from the alcohol. Damn.

“And another oneeee,” Arike laughs, now pouring tequila into the glasses, clearly trying to get us two drunk. I glare at her, picking up on what she was up to. But Rike merely winks at me, handing us salt and lemon slices.

“Oh boy,” Izara chuckles, eyeing the alcohol. I follow closely as her tongue darts out to lick her wrist, my mind spinning with dirty thoughts involving that tongue between my le-

“Lemon!” The girl yelps, squeezing her eyes shut having taken the shot. I quickly grab the slice from the counter, holding Izzie’s face still by her chin as I place the wedge between her lips. Her teeth bite into it, sucking on the bitter fruit to get rid of the taste in her mouth.

Her dark lashes flutter open, and she pulls away with a grin. “Your turn.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my tongue already growing numb from the alcohol, my speech certainly beginning to slur soon.

“Yo Zari, you should let Paige lick the salt from your wrist,” Arike yells from the opposite side of the counter, earning a slap on the shoulder from Lala.

“Huh?” Izara laughs, turning to the pair.

“Ignore her, God knows I do,” Lala rolls her eyes.

Flustered, I fumble with the salt shaker, licking it off my hand and downing the shot of tequila, feeling the burn in my throat making me want to cough. To my surprise, Iz brings the slice of lemon to my lips, the bitter taste putting an end to the burn.

I can feel the alcohol hitting, making my cheeks burn - or maybe it’s the way the dark haired girl is looking at me, her eyes even more catlike than normal, sparkling in the dimmed lighting. Either way I can feel my brain and mouth beginning to slow down, yet my words and actions seem simultaneously sped up, like I couldn’t think them through before doing.

“I’mma admit, I’m drunk as fuck,” I laugh, making Izara throw her head back and let out a bright chuckle, grabbing onto my shoulder as she does. Fuck she looks hotter than usual, the hard, poised exterior breaking, letting me catch little glimpses into her internal life, reminiscent of the softness on her face when she fell asleep on me.

“Let’s run away before Arike makes us take more shots,” she whispers and simultaneously somehow screams, grabbing my arm and dragging me down behind the island, as if Arike and Lala weren’t standing right on the other side, watching the two of us. Still I let her, crouching behind it and letting her drag me wherever she wants to. 

-

I love Dallas! Or maybe I should reconsider when I’m sober, but now that the shots and drinks had been flowing, I had decided I loved Dallas for certain. Paige and I have been hiding behind a corner, by the entrance to Arike’s and Lala’s bedroom, for the past hour, giggling and talking. I’ve realised Paige might be one of my favourite people I’ve ever met, the strain in my abs a reminder of how easily she made me laugh. How effortless it was to spend time with her, like I didn’t have to put up any exterior or front. I felt comfortable being myself with her. So naturally, in my drunken state, the words slip from my lips easily.

“You’re like, my favourite person right now,” I giggle, leaning my back against the cool wall and watching upwards at her. Paige’s eyes are heavy and red as a result of the alcohol, hair somehow still neatly slicked back, however a button on her chest left unbuttoned, displaying that she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra under the shirt.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a proud smirk on her face. She’s standing in front of me, arms crossed.

“Don’t let it get into your head darling,” I scoff, pushing her off by her abdomen, feeling the muscles there tighten when my fingertips graze her through the shirt. For whatever reason I’d been wanting her to touch me all night, enjoying the times she wrapped her arm around my waist, or guided me through a crowd. It felt good to be touched, so I didn’t worry about what it meant further. I just wanted her hands on me. Like you’d want to hug a friend after remembering how much you love them.

“Why do you get to have all these nicknames but I don’t get to call you ma?” She asks, stumbling back but returning to her prior position, if not a little closer. I place my hands on her waist, having to tilt my head to look at her - that’s how close she is.

“Why do you want to call me ma?”

“Because,” she groans, looking for something to say. “Ion know it suits you.”

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because you’re sexy.”

I’m drunk. And I know it’s because I’m drunk. It has to be. But I can feel myself begin to throb between my legs when Paige says those words, when her teeth bite onto her bottom lip, when she looks me up and down. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of the swirling in my lower abdomen, the heat spreading straight to my core.

The blonde rubs the bridge of her nose. “Ahh shit Iz, I didn’t mean it like that. My bad. You just look really damn good. In like a friend wa-”

“You think I look sexy?”

It’s like my mouth and brain aren’t working together, the words just forming and leaving my lips without a single thought or action to stop them. For some reason it comes out almost whiny. Like I want her opinion, her reassurance.

Paige looks surprised, clenching her jaw before kissing her teeth and licking her lips, hands twitching as if for something to touch.

“I meannn… you really gotta ask that?” She says hoarsely, stepping closer and placing her hands on my hips. It feels good, but I want more, pushing my body off the wall and pressing my front against her. The sparks are immediate, and I nearly groan at the contact. 

“You didn’t answer,” I demand, staring into the blues of her eyes. Only then I realise how blue they really are, like a turquoise ocean against a sandy beach, inviting, beautiful. My heart begins to pound, even more so when I feel Paige’s hands move from my waist, downwards to my hips, to the small of my back, and finally to my ass. 

“Perfect,” she coos.

The breath she lets out is heavy, loud, but I barely register, my mouth parting a little. To say the chills travelling through my body are overwhelming would be an understatement, my mind suddenly spinning with realisation of something I’d been feeling for a while, yet only recognised now.

“Is this okay?” Paige asks, making me nod my head. When I do so I feel the blonde’s hands squeeze just a little, forcing a breathy whimper to spill from my lips. Overcome with the urge to be even closer to her, I wrap my arms around the girl’s broad shoulders and lean my head into the crook of her neck, my body slotting against hers just right. It feels euphoric.

 “Baby I would leave too if I was Paige, that poor girl got to deal with you on a daily basis alr-”

Suddenly Lala’s voice grows louder as she turns the corner, Arike on her tail. 

“Oh, sorry y’all,” the woman gasps seeing us embracing, Paige’s hands resting on my ass. Embarrassed, I pull away, nearly pushing the blonde off of me.

“Uh, I need a drink,” I murmur, my thoughts moving so quickly they make no sense, not even entirely sure what just happened in a drunken hue.

“Yoooo,” I hear Arike snickering, and Lala shutting her up.

Paige follows close behind me all the way back to the kitchen island, people around the apartment now notably drunker, louder, stumbling into each other. “You aight?” 

“Yeah, yes. I am,” I murmur, pouring whatever booze there was in reach into a glass and downing it, attempting to calm the running thoughts trying to make sense of all of this.

“You sure ma?”

Fuck. The nickname. Suddenly it’s making my core burn, and I feel arousal pooling between my legs almost uncomfortably. Maybe that nickname wasn’t so bad. Maybe it got me so hot and bothered I could barely think. Maybe I wanted her to call me that and only that for the rest of my life.

“Mm, I’m sure,” I mumble, turning to look at the tall blonde beside me, the way some of the buttons on her shirt have come undone, the way she’s eyeing me back, her veiny hands wrapping around a bottle as she pours herself another drink, the chains on her neck, dangling into her shirt. It’s then when I realise - I want to fuck Paige Bueckers.

“Here you are, Paige! Have you seen Satou?” Savannah interrupts us, but my eyes are still stuck on the blonde next to me.

“No, I got no idea where she is sorry.”

“What about your girlfriend, she seen her?”

Suddenly my eyes snap from Paige to the stranger leaning over the island, blinking stupidly.

“I’m not her girlfriend,” I say sternly, my tone harder than it needs to be. I could feel myself getting overwhelmed.

“Wh- oh shit, I’m sorry. You two just seem like a coup-”

“We’re not together,” Paige interrupts her, clearly picking up on my stress levels rising. I feel the room spinning, my breathing growing shallow, my cheeks burning up.

Lala, who had been watching me and the blonde all night, swiftly walks over and grabs me by the waist. “Come with me baby,” she coos, her voice caring and affectionate as she walks me into the couple’s bedroom, closing the door behind us, separating me from everything causing the engulfing emotions.

“Sit down Zari, I’ll get you some water.”

I do as the older woman says, feeling embarrassed, just praying to any God that I didn’t cause a scene. I could feel my head spinning still, the effect from the alcohol still flowing in my bloodstream.

Lala returns and hands me a glass. I chug it down, handing it back to the woman and staring at the floor.

“Are you alright?” Lala asks, sitting next to me and following me closely. I rub my forehead, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m more drunk than I realised,” I murmur but the woman shakes your head.

“I think it’s more than that, Zari.”

I look at her, a knowing expression on the woman’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Paige isn’t it, you like her?”

I sigh, not even sure how to answer that question. Not sure at all what the feelings swirling inside me meant. 

“I… I just think I’m drunk-”

“She likes you,” Lala interrupts me. I take her words in, blinking slowly as I do. Paige likes me?

“How do you know?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. Something about the older woman made me feel safe.

Lala chuckles, shaking her head. “I think everybody knows baby.”

Oh.

I’m speechless for once, staring at the wall, recounting every interaction I had ever had with the blonde girl. My friend. Could she really like me? Worse of all, have I led her on?

“Look, just be careful alright. Don’t give her the wrong idea if… you know, you don’t feel the same,” Lala rubs my shoulders, like reading my thoughts. It all confused me, my feelings most of all - and deep deep down I wasn’t sure about what I felt, my mind an entangled, confusing pile of perplexity.

-

“Hey you alright?” Paige murmurs to me, pressing into my back as I’m pouring myself more water in the kitchen after my little breather. My body is covered in chills once more by her proximity - which must be a sign I like her at least a little bit. Or maybe I’m just needy for someone to touch me. I was drunk after all, and it had been a while. But then again, these chills always occurred when the blonde’s hands were on me, sometimes even when they were not. Just a simple look was enough.

“Yeah, I felt a little dizzy. Feel better now though,” I murmur, finishing another glass of water.

Paige hesitates, chewing on her cheek, clearly in her head as I turn around and notice her expression. “I didn’t do too much ri-”

“Here you are!! I love this song, come dance!” A drunk Satou interrupts the moment, dragging both me and the blonde into the living room, not giving us much choice in the matter. 

“Song’s almost over,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me as I shrug but follow the two hoopers.

“Who cares, I love it!” Satou laughs. We’re surrounded by a few others, dancing to the Drake song echoing around the apartment. As the beat fades out, I hear the soft melody of What You Heard by Sonder take over.

“Nooo, boo, I’mma go ask for more Drake,” Satou murmurs, walking off, leaving me and Paige alone.

Our gazes meet and we chuckle at the same time at the girl who just left, clearly even drunker than me and Paige.

“Fuck your mind up, waste time, I'm prone to that, do it all the time, Keep your guard up or wait in line”

“This song is actually fire,” Paige grins and I nod.

“It is.”

I take a dip in her blue eyes, finding comfort in them as the song plays, not at all shocked when Paige steps closer and grabs a hold of my waist, swaying with me. The alcohol is still pumping through my veins, making it easy to wrap my arms around her neck without thinking what it might mean. It felt good to be close to her, so what?

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts.”

Paige sings along to the lyrics, the tiniest bit off-key yet something about it makes me grow flustered quickly, mind flashing with images of her doing exactly what the lyrics describe.

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts, When I get you to myself, it's murder,” I sing back to Paige, our eyes meeting. Her eyelids are heavy from the drinks, and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face. Her silver chains sparkle in the dim lighting, but all I’m looking at is the way she’s staring me down.

Something about the alcohol makes me bold, pressing my body closer to hers, my fingernails scratching into the back of her neck gently, watching as her eyes nearly flutter shut at the contact.

“You be wildin', I be wildin', too, But not like you, shit, maybe a little like you, Maybe we ain't so different, maybe I be trippin', too,” we sing to each other, the blonde’s thumbs rubbing circles on my hips as we dance together. I feel the burn from earlier spread to my core once more, making it hard to think clearly. 

Our faces are inching closer, to the point where I can feel her hot breath on my skin. My heart begins to pound and it becomes difficult to keep my eyes open. Paige licks her lips, leaning downwards. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me, the distance between us growing smaller and smaller - until she ghosts my lips, turning her face, mouth hovering right over my ear, warm breath tickling against my skin.

“If he was a winner, Girl, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout a damn thing, If I was up in it, shit, I bet a pound that I'd put it down, Make you forget that you was ever with him,” she murmurs into my ear with the lyrics of the song, left hand staying on my hip, right hand coming up to the back of my head to hold it still as we keep swaying to the melody.

I feel flustered, my cheeks growing hotter and my core aching for something. No, not for something - for Paige.

“And I hate talking 'bout my stroke game, But girl, I'm giving you the whole thing,” she murmurs with a deep, hoarse voice, my body tingling and on fire at the same time. 

Turning my face, my nose brushes into the blonde’s, but I’m too scared to open my eyes, too scared that if I do I’ll start thinking again, realising how senseless this entire situation is.

Paige’s nose nuzzles mine, and I can hear the shallowness of her breathing, her hand at the back of my head maneuvering me in a way so our lips are hovering over each other. I feel like I might pass out, my heart trying to race out of my chest at this point.

“Paige, Zari, I finally found herrrr!” Satou shouts over the crowd, making both of us pull away. My eyes shoot open and I see the girl holding her friend Savannah.

“Oh! Good!” I smile awkwardly, Paige’s hands still on me. 

“Jesus…” The blonde murmurs to herself, looking around clearly frustrated by the unwelcome interruption. “You wanna go to the balcony for, uh, some fresh air?”

“Yeah,” I nod, without thinking. I let the tall girl walk me onto the balcony, closing the door behind us.

Fresh air it is not, the weather a hot and humid warning for the approaching scorching Dallas summer. But it still feels right to be alone with Paige, under the dark Texas sky. I glance upwards, looking at the stars to avoid meeting the blonde’s stare.

“So damn hot,” Paige groans, unbuttoning her shirt even more to get more airflow, though I couldn’t care less. I’m only gazing at the way the chains on her neck rest against her skin.

“Yeah, it certainly is,” I mumble, leaning my back against the glass railing.

Paige looks at me with something I can’t recognise, her expression softening as she’s taking steps towards me. “Fuck, that accent,” she murmurs, her hands easily finding their way to my waist again.

“What do you mean?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I dunno, I just love hearing you talk.”

I chuckle, bringing my hand to her chest and playing with the chain there, number 5 dangling off it. Paige grins too, continuing.

“And the things you say too.”

I scoff, displeased. “Like what?”

“I dunno! British things!”

“British things??” I ask, laughing so hard my stomach begins to hurt, my fingers still fiddling the number 5.

“Like… Taking the piss!” She laughs, leaning closer. I bend forward too, my face scrunching as pearls of giggles spill from my mouth.

“Oh my God, you’re so stupid,” I murmur in a blur of joy, my hand snaking behind her head. In the haze of the alcohol and the giggles and the newfound feelings, before I can think it through, I’m pulling her down by the chain and her head, leaning closer and kissing her.

It’s heaven. Every nerve in my body is on fire. The blonde’s lips open for me, slowly but sensually sliding against mine. My legs feel weak, and my nails dig into the skin of her neck, a whimper leaving my mouth but she swallows it, groaning in response. Her hands squeeze my waist before moving to my face, landing on my jaw to keep me as close as possible - like she might die if I pull away.

I’m pressed closer to the glass behind my back as the kiss grows hungrier. Paige’s mouth opens further, her tongue darting out to slide against my lower lip, begging for entry with a small whine slipping from the blonde’s mouth. It’s like everything pent up was finally releasing, something I didn’t even know was there, bubbling right underneath the surface. My tongue meets Paige’s, both of us melting into the kiss. I feel like putty in her hands, like she could mold me whichever way possible. This is the best kiss I’ve ever experienced, I know that for sure. Jasper always kissed in such a stiff, forceful way. Right. Jasper.

It takes me back to the moment, as if for a sliver of a second I can think clearly. What the fuck am I doing. This isn’t me. I haven’t thought this through at all. I’m leading Paige on.

Abruptly I pull back for air, the taller girl already dragging me back into another kiss needily. But I push Paige back by her chest, stopping her. We’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What the fuck am I doing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” I mumble, shoving her off me as gently as I can, saying quick goodbyes to Lala and Arike before practically running down the stairs and throwing myself into a cab, leaving Paige upstairs as if nothing happened. The only proof of the night’s events merely the way my lips still burn and tingle, and my racing heart and swirling mind trying to make sense of everything.

-

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

[hopefulidiocy]

nsfw salesman?🫣

Bitch

Salesman x Fem!Y/N

Warnings: rough sex, gun play, p in v, foreplay (f receiving), SMUT, not kind, but he feels something for her.

💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼

💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼💼

Red dress. Heels.

The text came through when you were sat in your lecture, scribbling down notes you weren’t going to look at later but knew you had to do something to get him out of your mind. For the past few months you had been playing a tedious game with a nameless man, someone who had been following you for months before he turned up at your flat with four words…

“Let’s play a game.”

And you, being intrigued in this handsome man, agreed to play with him. Despite your gut telling you to run. He came every Monday an hour after your classes without fail. And without fail, you were undone every time he left.

The text came as a surprise, leaving you breathless as the class came to an end. He left no time, no place to meet, just what to wear. How the fuck could you find a red dress within the depths of your sweaters and baggy jeans? Dresses don’t suit you. It’s not a part of you. At least that’s what you thought. He might’ve seen something in those twinkling hours above your naked body, maybe he thought you’d look good in a dress. So, the port of call is to call your best friend.

It took a few tries to get through to her but she finally answered.

“What?” Her gruff voice came through your phone, she had definitely just woken up.

“Have you got a red dress?” Both of you rarely said hello to each other.

“Yes. Why?”

“Okay I’m coming over.” You hung up, tucking your phone into your back pocket and taking off down the green campus, onto the busy Main Street and basically becoming Usain Bolt towards your best friend’s apartment.

No questions asked, she thrusted the red dress in your arms and oh my god it was fucking short. It wouldn’t even cover your ass but you had the short straw here, you couldn’t simply bargain for a longer red dress because no one owns one these days. Your best friend is a hoarder so it’s usually more than likely she will have something.

Evening was drawing in, you had blown out your hair knowing it would be completely lax by the time you arrived back at your own apartment; the dress definitely didn’t cover anything, you would look better going out naked; the heels were too high and it took a few rounds of your bedroom to walk like a normal person but at least your make up was astonishingly. You were waiting by the door, anxiously tapping your toes against the wood. The knock came, once and then twice before you answered. He took one swift look at you, with that shit eating smirk of his.

“Beautiful.” And then he led you to a place with dim lighting and dark candles.

“I need you to remember something for me y/n.” He leaned forward, his elbows pressed into the table as his eyes zoned in on you, darkening with every passing second. “You’re my bitch, okay?” Goosebumps raised on the back of your neck as you squeezed your thighs together, his mouth was slightly puckered as you attempted to find the words that roamed freely in your mind. He cleared his throat, looking marginally disappointed at your silence. You simply couldn’t find any words to say. His arm reached for his briefcase, pulling it up to his lap as his hand completely disappeared inside of it. You watched him, mouth dry and throat closed as he threw a black gun on the table. He didn’t say anything at first, instead he examined you with one elbow on the table and his fingers touching his chin, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“Is-Is it loaded?” You managed to muster. He broke out into a mocking laugh, it shook the room. You leaned back in the chair, trying to breathe as his snake-like moves suddenly came closer. His broad hand wrapped around the gun as he pressed the cold brass against your temple, your breath hitched and died in your throat as he clicked the revolver. His lips brushed against the side of your neck, his breath hot compared to the cold shivers that were coursing through your body; a shock sent straight to your abdomen.

“Would you like to find out?” His voice was so low it was barely audible as his lips sent waves down your spine, he wasn’t kissing you, just simply grazing his lips against your neck, teasing you until your hands clenched in your lap.

“Answer me.” His wrist wrapped around your locks and pulling harshly, the gun still taped to your temple.

The sane side of you wanted to say no, that side wanted to push him away and point the gun at the centre of his head. But you knew you’d be seeing stars before day break, before the moon fully made itself present you’d be shaking under his touch, and you loved it. Every second you loved the way he made you feel, how his fingers played you like a toy.

“Yes.” You whispered, a small tear forming at the corner of your eye. He chuckled darkly before kicking your legs apart, suddenly revealed to him in the candlelight. He trailed the gun down from your temple to your chin as he got onto his knees for you, the only time he ever did, and hitched your dress to your hips. He tutted, shaking his head.

“Why are you wearing these?” His index finger poked at your black underwear, the only thing saving your dignity and the way he poked at you sent a harsh gasp through your body and out your mouth. He narrowed his eyes before smirking, with one hand he yanked your underwear until it was dangling over your heels. Devastatingly slowly the gun traced over your collarbone, to your breast bone, to your naval and finally onto your clitoris. The cold metal stung and the thrill of danger had you weak, it was unlike anything you felt before even from him; he clicked the gun and you shrieked despite yourself even though this gun was obviously not loaded. His gun was left on the space between your legs on the seat as his hand grazed over your inner thigh before circling your clit with the pad of his thumb, similar but better than earlier in the car. He watched you through his dark eyelashes as you slowly lolled your head to the side, your eyes fluttering shut at the gentle touch to your sensitivity; he licked his lips as he sweetly kissed you on your pussy before diving in. You clutched on the sides of your chair, moans escaping your throat as you looked towards the ceiling, letting him work his tongue all over you. Black vision spilled in front of you as your body played along with his beautiful music, your vision completely blurred as a cold wave crashed over you, causing your knuckles to go white due to the hard pressure against the chair. You knew you were shrieking, but your body completely detached as he continued using you, your noises far away as if it’s in another room. White noise rushed into your hearing as your body began to tremble, your thighs locking him shut between you as he worked faster and faster on you until you folded into yourself. The cold air hit your aching skin as he removed himself from you, standing to his full height which was imposing even in this environment and then he scooped you up bridal style. It was almost romantic as he threw you against the window for all of the world to see, it was almost beautiful when he ripped your friends dress for the neighbours to enjoy the look of your breasts pressed against the glass. His black leather shoe kicked your feet to separate them.

“Stay there.” He ordered before his shoes grew quieter and quieter. The moments in which you were alone, your body on full show, prepped for him and you knew you were a whore for him, you knew this was going to be your life now. The threat of being killed, the threat of being hurt only turned you on more until you were basically dripping down your thighs. His footsteps became louder and you knew, you just knew, he had a gun in his hand. A different one and you had no idea whether it was loaded or not. The idea made you whine, your abdomen aching for his touch.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He stood back to admire the view of your ass sticking out and the rest of you pressed against the glass. He enjoyed the thought of people watching you becoming undone by his simple touch.

During these times, he rarely removed his suit and today was no different. All he had to do was unzip his pants and his dick was excitedly pointing towards your heat, he lined himself up, a gun against the back of your head unknowing whether it’s loaded or not. He grunted as the tip of him entered your walls, the stretch always shocked you, the thickness was something you had to prepare for but he very rarely allowed the bliss of feeling ready for his cock. A small loan escaped his lips, it was classical, as he entered fully inside of you, allowing himself to fully enjoy the your warmth. You pressed your cheek against the glass, jaw slack as his cock touched every nook and cranny of your cervix; he reached around with his free arm and pressed down on your abdomen as he began to push further inside of you. Whining, you arched your ass towards the ceiling to accommodate his size.

“Look at you.” He snarled, pulling himself out to just the tip to make you beg for it. To make you weak and ache for his cock. And you were. The instant he pulled out almost completely, you felt the cold air and groaned in annoyance, you were empty and all you wanted was to be full of him. You bucked your knees, to try edge his cock in further but he harshly held onto your hips, his thumb digging in so hard you felt the bruise forming. That magical feeling of his breath escaping his mouth as he emerged back inside of you, the relief that settled your heart before he began hammering his hips into you, deeper than you ever felt. The cold glass and the hot feeling of his cock inside of you was such a stunning contradiction, you hoped people could see what this man was making you feel, you squeezed your pussy around him just to hear that musical moan escape his throat again. His tie became undone as he clicked the gun, relishing in you flinching, ducking your head every so slightly but enough for him to notice and laugh.

“You love the threat of being shot, don’t you?” He snapped his hips so deep into you that for a moment you forgot your native language, you forgot the laws of physics as his cock buried itself deep within your womb, readying itself for his lust. You felt the tip of the metal begin trailing your spine as his hips snapped in and out of you, huffing as he brought his fingers towards your clit, circling it in a ferocious manner to bring you quicker to your undoing. Suddenly, he flipped you towards him, he preferred to see your face as you moaned all over his cock, bring your legs to his shoulders so he could grow deeper inside of you. You didn’t even worry about slipping down the window because he had you hard against the glass, there was hardly any space between you and him and the window. His hips came down like a hammer, he wasn’t picking up his pace and instead simply pulled half way out slowly and slammed his hips down, hitting your aching g spot as it threatened let go all over him.

“Please, faster.” You begged, crying almost to let go. His hand clasped around your neck, adding onto his quickening pace. Instead of hammering down onto your quivering body, he began to level up faster, making you cry out in absolute bliss and serenity. His hips slapped quickly onto yours, as he grunted and groaned, hiding them in your neck; he bit down as hard as he could as you let everything go all over him. He knew you had reached your high, but he didn’t stop, instead in one swift movement he picked you up and slammed you into the hard floor. You knew, come daylight, there would be a mark but you would parade it proudly knowing you had become a whore for a man you hardly knew. It was disgusting but somehow it made you hornier as his cock worked you to a pace of his own, something that physics hadn’t yet discovered. The gun was forgotten about, he didn’t want to continue threatening you, instead he wanted you to see stars once again, he wanted to hear your beautiful music as you shrieked over him.

“So good to me.” He grunted. “Your pussy belongs to me, you belong to me.” He wrapped his wrist into the knotted locks of your hair pulling violently that it made your neck completely snap towards the ceiling, making you cry out in pain that was overwhelmed with pleasure. You contracted around him, your toes curling as you unleashed everything onto him; he moaned in delight as he pushed further into you. His large hand grabbed the gun and pointed it at your forehead, you just about saw the barrel, your jaw slack and dumb.

“Look at you, in this pretty dress, getting fucked, being my own personal fuck toy.” He mocked, pounding even harder. You started seeing stars, your eyes rolling back and your throat sore; you let him have his way as you dived into a world of satisfaction, no moans or words could describe this moment between the two of you. “Can you not speak, pretty girl?” He pouted, pulling your hair and rising you roughly so your back was against his chest; your eyes still rolled at the back of your head. His fingers splayed over your exposed throat, your hair sweating as he whispered. “Do you like it when I fuck that tight cunt of yours?” You wanted to scream yes, you wanted the whole world to know that you belonged to him and you loved being used like a useless toy.

“Y-Yes. Yes I do!” You managed to squeak, but he wasn’t happy and clicked the gun in his free hand, making you flinch once again, his hips still bucking at a gods speed. “Yes. I love it when…. When… you fuck me, I love it!” You ended up screaming towards the end, eager to get it out and he chuckled darkly as his movements began falling. Close to his edge, his imprinted himself onto your neck with his mouth and shook with agonising pleasure as he painted your walls. He groaned loudly, pulling out and you simply collapsed onto your hands and knees; a stupid, shaking mess. You managed to look up at him, his eyes were black with pleasure and he smiled sweetly as he saw you curled up by his feet.

“Now tell me, sweet girl, what are you?” He mocked.

“Your bitch.”

[pinkolve]

A Spencer Reid Fic- The One Where He Reads Her Diary

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Summary: Spencer Reid gets pressured into reading your diary. How will things end after you find out...

Genre: Fluff, and a little angst

CW: Autistic coded!Fem!Reader, use of Y/N, a bit of dramatic? reader, sad Spencer :(, steamy kisses, slight artist!reader.

Word Count: 2,227

A/N: I'm not the best at writing in a reader's perspective!! I always write my fics with myself in mind, so y/n is usually very similar to myself. I hope you still enjoy this anyways, and let me know if you have any tips for writing x reader fics!! Thank you! <33

Y/N’s always been an honest person, she always tells people exactly what she thinks. She’s blunt, but still kind. Y/N believes that everyone deserves to know the truth, especially when specifically asking for it. But, she also has millions of secrets piled up. Some of them, people know. The others…No one knows, except her diary. 

Y/N had just turned twenty-two a few months ago. Some would argue she’s much too old for a diary, while others would say how beneficial it is for the mind. Like Spencer Reid, for example. He himself had a journal, he just hadn’t used it nearly as much as she did.

He used his journal to talk about important events or changes in his life, while Y/N used it for everything. She wrote everything she ever thought, and drew whatever came to mind. 

The one mistake she had made from the start was keeping her diary in her work bag…That she always left on her desk when she left for the bathroom. 

***

“Reid, man, come on. You need to tell her eventually.” Morgan bantered, standing right next to Spencer’s desk. 

“I’d rather not look like an idiot, Morgan.” Spencer slightly rolled his eyes, still focused on his paperwork. 

“You already do?” Morgan said, confused. Spencer looked up with a scowl. “I’m just messin’ with you Pretty Boy! Just ask her out for coffee, nothing wrong with coffee.” He shrugged. Spencer simply shook his head, staring back down at his files. Morgan shook his own head in disapproval before walking back to his own desk, passing Y/N’s in the process. 

As he passed by, his hip bumped the half-open bag on her desk, knocking it to the floor. Morgan immediately turned around and swore. He set his mug down on the desk and bent down to grab her bag. He took notice of a surprisingly thick notebook. He picked it up and reveled at how heavy it was. Morgan looked at the cover to read ‘Diary.’ His eyes immediately widened. 

A smirk took over his face as he placed the bag back on her desk and carried the journal back over to Reid’s desk. Once he was close enough, he threw the journal on the desk with a particularly loud ‘thud.’ Lucky for the two of them, the office was mostly empty so they were able to pull more shenanigans than usual. 

Spencer looked over at the cover and looked up at his friend with furrowed brows. 

“What is this?” 

“Y/L/N’s diary. Fell out of her bag.” He gestured behind him. Spencer’s face went white, his jaw dropping, and eyes almost bursting out of his head. 

“You cannot be serious! Put this back!” He jumped up from his desk, journal in hand, ready to bring it back to its rightful home. 

“Woah there, Pretty Boy!” Morgan put his palms against Reid’s chest, pushing him back in his desk chair. “You have a major advantage here. You read that, and you’ll probably know everything Y/N’s ever thought about you.” He wiggled his eyebrows. Spencer’s face was angry. “Look Reid, if Y/N finds out I’ll take all the blame. I’ll tell her I read it to you and you didn’t want anything to do with it.” Spencer looked down at the book in his hands, contemplating. 

“I can’t believe I’m letting you convince me into doing this.” Spencer sighed, shaking his head to himself. He hated the idea of invading his best friend’s privacy but he was also still a man. A man with a terrible crush on said best friend. How could he hold her very diary in his own two hands and not read a single word? “One page, that’s it!” Spencer groaned while Morgan ‘woo-hooed.’

Spencer took notice of just how thick the journal was before opening to the newest page. He held the book open gently, praying he wouldn’t break it since it was falling apart already. He looked at the left page, two messy sketches were drawn there in pen. They both were of him, the specific view Y/N had of him from her own desk. These are actually pretty good…He thought to himself. 

“Holy shit, Reid. Is that you?” Morgan practically gasped. 

“Yeah.” He whispered, too entranced by the book. The right page had an entry. 

11/10/24 Sunday, 6:22 pm

Dear Diary, 

Today hasn’t been very eventful. I came into work to try and finish some of my paperwork. Morgan and Spencer apparently had the same idea. I’ve been feeling so weird around Spencer lately. I can’t quite put my finger on why. Usually I feel fine around him, he is my best friend after all. I think it may have something to do with the wet dream I had about him last night…I can’t quite shake it from-

“Okay! That’s enough!” Spencer shut the book harshly, his face beet red. Morgan looked at him with a wide grin. 

“Why wouldn’t you keep reading? It was just gettin’ good!” He chuckled. Spencer glared at him. “Well, now we know she likes you.” Morgan smirked. 

“This doesn’t prove anything! People have wet dreams about other people when they don’t even like them, all the time!” Spencer almost screamed. Just then, Y/N came in through the large glass doors, letting out a loud sigh and stretching. She took one look at her desk and groaned. 

“Derek Morgan, I told you to stop leaving your coffee on my desk!” She complained, grabbing it angrily. She looked over at the two, their faces covered in guilt. “What happened to you guys?” She questioned. 

“Nothing. Nothing at all!” Spencer yelled, awkwardly covering the journal with both his arms. Y/N walked towards them while chuckling. 

“Come on guys, you look totally guilty. What’d you do?” She smiles at Morgan then looks over at Spencer, taking notice of the large lump under his arms. “What’s that? Did you accidentally buy erotica again?” She shook her head. She reached over to pry his arms away from the object. “I told you to stop-” Y/N cut myself off, staring at her own journal. Her face drained of any color and every feature on her face practically melted. 

“Y/N/N, I’m so-” Spencer started.

“Shut up.” She spit out. She tore her journal from him and slammed Morgan’s coffee on his desk, causing it to spill everywmye. She practically ran back to her own desk and packed her things. 

“Y/L/N, it wasn’t his fault. I’m the one who-” Morgan tried to reason. 

“I said shut the fuck up!” She screeched, her face red with anger and embarrassment. “I never thought you would do something like this to me. I trusted you with everything I had and you broke it like it was nothing.” She was crying now, looking between the two men. But all of them knew she was only really talking to Spencer. 

“Y/N, please-” 

“Don’t ever talk to me again you fucking asshole!” She sobbed out before running to the elevator and making a fast exit. Morgan looked over at Spencer and his heart nearly broke. Spencer looked like a wounded puppy, his eyes were wide and filled with unshed tears. He looked frozen in place, he couldn’t move a single inch. He begged any and every deity he could think of to make Y/N come back so he could explain. They hadn’t listened to any of his pleas. 

***

Y/N lay in her living room on her large corner sofa. The TV was on, playing ‘Gilmore Girls’ very loudly. She hoped to drown out any thought she had with the noise. So far, it wasn’t working. 

She hadn’t been to work in nearly a week, it was currently Saturday and no one had heard from her. She only called Hotch to tell him she wouldn’t be in for a while, sick with the flu. She sure as hell couldn’t admit that the real reason was because her crush read her diary. It felt stupid enough in middle school, she wasn’t about to say it aloud to her own boss. 

Everyone on the team was very worried, getting barely any information and zero replies from Y/N. Penny, Emily, Morgan and J.J had all come to her apartment on different occasions, begging to see her. She never let them in. The only thing she cared about was seeing Spencer, but at the same time, she never wanted to see him again. Funnily enough, Spencer was the only one who hadn’t come over. Y/N was partially glad for this because she knew if he was at her door, she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from opening it. 

Spencer had of course sent about fifty-three text messages and made twenty-four phone calls to her. Once again, all of them were ignored. Spencer was the kind of person who liked to talk in person, apologize in person. All his text messages were him begging to talk to Y/N, to let him explain. None of them actually contained any excuses or apologies. She was clearly clueless on any reasoning he had, or how much he had read, because he didn’t want to say any of it in a meaningless text. He had been waiting since Wednesday for the weekend to come rolling around. He planned to show up and explain everything, but he needed to make sure they had plenty of time to talk, hence the weekend. 

Everyone on the team knew of his plan so they all refrained from going over themselves. They just hoped the two would figure everything out. 

*** 

Y/N had just gotten out of the shower when she heard a knock on her door. She rolled her eyes to herself and sighed, looking at the time. 

“Which one of them has the brilliant idea to come over at eight in the morning?!” She yelled to herself. She softly and slowly walked against the hardwood floor, careful not to make a single noise and alert whoever was behind the door. She wouldn’t answer it but she at least wanted to know who it was this time. 

“Y/N…It’s me.” Spencer’s voice rang out and she froze. “I know you’re angry but I really need to talk to you. Please let me in.” His voice was pathetic and sad, cracking occasionally. Within seconds the door opened in front of him. There stood the girl he’s been dreaming of seeing all week. Her hair was soaking wet and so were her shoulders and arms. A towel was wrapped around her body tightly, showing off her figure. Spencer watched a single droplet of water pass down between the valley of her breasts. 

“H-Hey.” Spencer choked out. 

“Hi.” Y/N greeted shyly. 

“I need to talk to you.”

“So I heard.” She nodded a little. “What about?” 

“You know what about…” 

“Okay, fine. What specific part of that interaction would you like to discuss? What, did you just come over to make fun of me? To ridicule me for the way I feel? Did you come over here just to humiliate me even more?!” Y/N’s voice raised the more she spoke. 

“No!” Spencer yelled, cutting her off. “I don’t want to do any of that!” He sighed to himself. “I…I never should have read your diary. Morgan convinced me, and I know I should have reacted better, and not listened to him. He just kept telling me how…Convinient it would be. I’ve been scared to tell you how I really feel for the last two years. He told me that reading your diary would be the perfect way to see how you feel about me before I confessed and made an idiot of myself. I just…I had a weak moment and I hate that I hurt you in the process.” A couple tears fell from the corners of his eyes. “I’m so…So sorry, Y/N/N.” 

She looked up at him with an expressionless face. Spencer looked back into her eyes with the saddest look on his face. He was about to ask her what she was thinking when she told him instead. 

“Do you like me? Romantically?” She asked, voice monotone. 

“Of course I do. I genuinely thought it was obvious, I can never stop how flustered I get around you. All I’ve dreamed about since we became friends is spending my life with you. Whether we spend it as best friends or more, I couldn’t care less. I just want you with me every step of the way” Spencer spoke honestly. 

“Kiss me.” Y/N blurted out. Spencer’s eyes went wide. 

“W-What?” He stuttered. 

“Please.” She breathed out. “Kiss me.” Her eyes were heavy and clouded. Spencer was quick to reach down and grab the sides of her face in his hands, pushing their lips together roughly. Y/N whimpered the minute his lips touched her own. Just as fast as the kiss happened it turned sloppy. Spencer’s hands travelled down to her waist, gripping tightly. She had wrapped her arms around his neck, her breasts pushing up against his chest. Their tongues collided and twirled against each other. 

“I love you, Spencer.” She whispered against his lips. 

“I love you more, Y/N.” He sighed.

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part two)

tutor!jayce talis x reader college au

content: reader recently decided to get a physics tutor...it's time for the first session with jayce talis

notes: walk with me and suspend ur disbelief in the actual physics talk...i have to make it somewhat believable that they're actually having tutoring sessions so i dug into the crevices of my brain for old physics topics that aren't too hard if you know them...if you don't..hopefully jayce makes sense LMAOOOO. but i will try not to do too much physics that it takes you out of it, i just want to build the tension and relationship. just trust me.

again mentions of neurodivergence/adhd references but that’s it really

word count: 1.9k

series masterlist

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Ekko was your longest friend—the closest one you had. He understood your brain even more than Viktor did, which was saying something. Since the day the two of you met in middle school, you became accustomed to one another. You knew each other like the back of your hands—which is why you knew he’d be so upset right now.

Immediately after leaving the student center, you scrambled to the dining hall. You and Ekko had a standing lunch date every day unless one of you said otherwise. There wasn’t always anything to say, but the idea of each other’s company comforted you—comforted him. He had been adamant that even if you two sat in silence, worked on classwork, or simply watched something on your phones, that the time was well spent.

Ekko valued these meetings in particular after his last girlfriend. You didn’t talk about Powder much…but he was devastated when she left town. The three of you had been friends for a long time…she’d abandoned you too. Acknowledging how much harder it may have been for Ekko was hard. You were forced to pick up the pieces and it started with daily check-ins over lunch. They stuck. 

You spotted him sitting alone, sipping on his drink through the glass. You tapped on it softly, getting his attention, waving.

He lit up when you approached the table, “Funny seeing you here.” Ekko looked at his watch dramatically, “Almost thought you couldn’t tell time for a second there.” 

“I am so sorry.” You moved to sit, pulling out the chair across from him. “I got caught up at the student center, needed a tutor for physics.” 

Ekko watched you reach and grab his bag on the table. He rolled his eyes knowingly—you were going for the fries of course. 

You continued, “Viktor recommended this guy, his lab partner.” 

Ekko nodded, “Thats great…but I’m also good at physics ya know?” 

“Oh yes, I totally forgot to ask my best friend to be my tutor. My best friend who knows I cannot stay on topic to save my life…wants me to ask him to be my tutor…so we can definitely not work on physics for the entire session.” You paused, a fry just on your lip, “Besides, I didn’t really have a choice.” 

“Okay first, I would be a great tutor! And second, what do you mean, didn’t have a choice?” 

“Viktor kinda just…led me there?” 

“So you didn’t have a chance to get yourself worked up and find a way to not go…great tactic on Viktor’s part.” 

There was a silence, but never uncomfortable when you were with Ekko. You smiled to yourself at that, and then about how surprisingly well the first meeting went. 

“He seemed nice…Jayce…my tutor.” 

Ekko reached into his bag, grabbing his sandwich. “Am I sensing a but?” 

“No, actually. He just seemed genuinely invested in me not feeling bad when it comes to sucking at school.” You paused, rubbing your hands in a napkin. “He said we could work on making it all seem more interesting…which I liked.” Ekko still hadn’t unraveled his sandwich, listening intently. You watched him observe you, but not speak up. “What?” 

He shook his head, “Nothing…that’s great.” 

The rest of your lunch was spent quietly recounting your days, not much of note happening otherwise. Eventually, you parted ways with an unspoken yet understood promise that you would see each other tomorrow. 

Your first session with Jayce was also tomorrow. That was on top of everything else you had to do. So much to be done…such little time, you thought. 

The following day came just as quickly as the previous had ended. You woke in a frenzy, almost always rushing to and from one class and toward the next. Then, to tutoring. 

You stumbled in, looking for any familiar face. You were met with only one, Jayce’s. He stood quickly, grabbing a folder and his bag before approaching you. 

“Right on time.” He turned, walking you toward a room off to the side. “This will be the office we use, I requested one with a white board.” He glanced back at you for affirmation before speaking again. “If you ever come for our meetings and don’t see me in the lobby, you can just come in here.” 

“Sounds good.” Your lip curled at your voice coming out more weak than you expected. You had to admire your own consistent ability to embarrass yourself, truly. 

He stepped back, allowing you to walk in first, again. “So…I printed these forms out for you.” He opened the folder, taking out some of the pages and spreading them on the table. “This is the basis for everything you’ll need to know about physics. There’s legends here, conversion charts, some of the greek symbols you’ll need to know, circuit diagrams, acronyms…everything.” You slowly sat in your chair, observing the filled pages. Jayce noticed you looking between the table and him with wide eyes. 

“This is a lot of information…” 

He finally sat down. “It is…but we have time to get you up to speed.” 

“But there’s these quizzes.” You looked down at the table, tapping a finger lightly against the wood. “Every week we have to prove we understood the concept and I am already weeks behind so it just keeps building on things I didn’t even understand to begin with. I don’t have time, I have to pass the quizzes so I can pass the class and keep my scholarship. If I lose my scholarship, I can’t pay for school and I’ll have to drop out. And all of this over stupid fucking physics and a professor who seems to want to ruin my life specifically.” You finally took a breath, “I can’t do this.” 

“I think you can.” 

Your eyes snapped up, meeting his. The look on his face seemed sincere—as if he truly believed in the statement. Hardly knowing you at all, he had enough faith that you could, in fact, do this.

“So,” he clasped his hands together. “What’s this next quiz on? What’s the topic for the week?” He got up, grabbing a marker from the white board’s small shelf. He looked at you expectantly, a brow arching as if to ask you again. 

“Vectors.” 

He nodded, “Okay, and what confuses you about vectors?” 

“Well, I feel like I’m pretty good at understanding angles. But as soon as we add in speed or velocity I am just…confused.” 

“Let’s start there.” He wrote the words speed and velocity on the white board in broad strokes, leaving space beneath each. “What is speed? Don’t think about it too hard.” 

“How fast something is going?” 

“Exactly, like a car.” He drew a makeshift car, and an indicator of both miles and kilometers. “Velocity is different.” He sketched a quick graph, a simple y and x axis and an arrow. “Velocity indicates the direction of an object.” His hand followed the trail of the arrow he drew, emphasizing that it was in motion. “So, velocity is the only one that actually would be considered when you look at vectors. Speed is just a number…velocity represents a change in position…which is what vectors do.” 

You grimaced at his attempt to make it make sense for you. The effort was appreciated, truly, but it didn’t stick. You feigned understanding, nodding your head in an attempt to get him to move on and explain more. This was common for you. Something wouldn’t make sense, but you wouldn’t want to hold everyone up, to be a burden. So you would sit in class, half listening, half in another world. After class, you’d be forced to scour videos about the very subject the teacher had spent class time explaining. Unfortunately that was a rabbit hole, too, as you would always end up on videos that had nothing to do with school. 

His eyes narrowed, not believing that your nod was enough of an indicator that you understood. “Come with me.” He moved to grab the papers for you, stuffing them in the folder and sliding them to you. You followed without a thought, trying to match his steady pace. He lead you to a nearby park down the street and sat his bag underneath a tree. You copied, placing your bag down beside his. It was impossible to not feel awkward, and yet, he persisted. 

“Okay stand here,” he pointed a finger to a random spot on the ground. Your feet stood perfect on the space where the asphalt and grass met, one foot on each side. “So just imagine that standing here, you are the bottom of a line graph along the x-axis. He moved his hand side-to-side, palm down, reminding you that this would be the horizontal line. Hotdogs and hamburgers. You remembered the silly phrase from elementary school. 

“Okay, standing here…x-axis.” 

He walked over to the grass side, “Okay, over here…in the nice green grass…this is positive.” He walked over to the asphalt, “I’m on your left now, on the asphalt…this is negative.” 

“…Okay.” 

He walked to mirror your position, one foot on each terrain. Then, he slowly stepped on the grass. “Without thinking about numbers, how would you describe what I just did.” 

“You…” Your brows furrowed, “You walked to the grass?” 

“Right, and that is-“ 

“Positive?” 

“Exactly.” 

In a split second, he darted over to the asphalt. “How bout now?” 

“You ran to the…to the negative?” 

He nodded, meeting you back at center again. He smirked at how quickly he’d even come up with this demonstration. “This is an example of how vectors work. When you think of me running somewhere, picking up my speed, but moving to the quote unquote ‘negative,’ this could also mean that from my original position-“ 

Your eyes lit up, “You moved backwards?” 

“Yup, or even down. On a graph, I mean.” He smiled with each word, amused by how you caught on to his unorthodox teachings. “But if I move slowly and to the ‘positive’ side?” He waited for you to answer.

“You…moved up or to the right.” 

“Just like a point on a graph.” He stood, hands on his hips. 

You were on the edge of every word he spoke, analyzing his every movement. You knew it was inopportune, but it was rather characteristic for you to lose focus right then. Jayce’s eyes were…interesting. Your first instinct was to say that they were yellow. When you looked closer you noticed the border of dark brown, the flecks of hazel and copper. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen. You got so caught up, you missed his hand coming up—leaving it lingering in the air. 

“What,” he questioned, “Do you not like high-fives as encouragement?” 

You chuckled, finally meeting his hand with yours. “I actually prefer snacks as encouragement, but this works.” 

It was his turn to laugh, then. It was short-lived. You followed his line of sight to see the same woman from the resource center, the one he’d been so enraptured by. Rightfully so; she was even more beautiful than you thought. The sunlight hit her skin just right, almost glistening. You gulped, somewhat intimidated by her presence alone. 

She reached you both, immediately giving Jayce a hug before turning to greet you. 

“Hey, how’s the tutoring going?” She nudged the man beside her, looking to you for an answer. 

“It’s going well,” you glanced at your phone screen, shit. “I actually should get going, but today was really helpful, thank you Jayce, bye.” 

You shuffled to grab your things as quickly as possible, avoiding the look of surprise on Jayce’s face. It didn’t really matter, though. 

Ekko was going to be pissed, again. 

part three

[cherrysolo]

loooove the way you wrote pissed lu, i remember reading something from his old roommate (?) where he said he never saw him anything but calm so i couldn’t picture it until i saw your reply to the request!! would love to see more of him trying to keep himself calm or how he would react to pissed reader <3

thank you sm!! I remember seeing his old roommate say that! it was very difficult for me to write because I don’t picture him as an angry person, so it was a good challenge! I’m so glad you loved it <3

this little piece is inspired by your request to see how the reader acts when she’s pissed and how lu deals with it. it’s also inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “all too well”. (if u guys get the references hehe). plus I deal with anxiety so this is soooo me lmao.

you and Luigi had flown from Hawaii to Pennsylvania to have a reunion dinner with his fraternity brothers. all of his closest college friends would be there with their significant others. you were so excited to finally meet some of his best college friends, you knew how much they meant to him.

as excited as you were, you were just as nervous. you struggled with social anxiety and meeting new people in large groups, something that luigi didn’t have trouble with at all. sometimes it felt isolating to have a partner who was very social and flourished in large groups. but anyway you did it for him, you just needed to relax and put on a happy face for him.

the dinner was going well as the boys reminisced, and the girlfriends made small talk. explaining their new job titles, talking about post-collegiate bliss, and looking back on their lives at penn.

quickly coming to the realization that you were the only one who didn’t go to an Ivy League school. you just studied English literature in Montreal, nothing special. all of these successful twenty somethings, long history of accomplishments, and you’re just… you. your eyes dotting back and forth at everyone at the table, just realizing how beautiful and blonde all these women are. did lu go to school with them too? my god, you felt so small and insecure with these anxiety-ridden thoughts flying through your mind. the smell of food began to be too much, your hair was sticking sweaty to your neckline, and your leg started bouncing to help calm yourself. you knew that these thoughts were untrue and were created in your mind, but your heart couldn’t stop racing. you didn’t feel good enough, to be by his side.

Luigi has always been a practical person, but he understood you struggled with anxiety and being in unfamiliar situations. He has never truly been in your shoes, but he tries his best to help out in anxiety-ridden situations, by grounding you or repeating your mantras.

Since he was used to comforting you in these situations, you quietly tried to grab his hand while he was talking to his ex-roommate to his left. you grab his hand, placing it on the table and intertwining your fingers. this is typically what you guys do to ground yourself in public, it’s a simple and sweet gesture.

as quickly as you grab his hand, it’s gone. he gives you a side eye, drops your hand, and continues his conversation like nothing happened. he dismisses you, in a way he hasn’t before. the act is cold and shocks you to no end. you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to calm down. while pacing back and forth in the ladies' room, you begin to have even more thoughts about what just occurred. why can’t he be affectionate in front of his friends? do I embarrass him? do you think they’re noticing how long I’ve been gone? taking some deep breaths, you walk back to the table.

…

“why have you been ignoring me the whole way back to the hotel?” luigi confronted you as soon as the door unlocked.

you scoffed, your anxiety and upset eyes had turned into anger. you felt embarrassed and angry that you even felt anxious and that you couldn’t be as socially acceptable as your partner.

“it’s nothing, I just want to go to bed, I’m tired,” you whispered. but luigi was having none of that,

“baby, you’re the one who said we should communicate better. what’s wrong? everyone was so happy to meet you tonight.” he pleaded with you.

“you dropped my hand.” you plainly stated, as luigi looked at you dumbfounded and confused.

his mouth agape, truly questioning what you meant by that.

“you dropped my fucking hand, what am I supposed to do with that?” you raised your voice, noticing the anger take over.

“I didn’t even fucking notice, what are you even talking about?” luigi matched your tone.

“I don’t even know any of these people. They’re all strangers, they’re all older than me, I feel so out of place! you know how bad my anxiety gets!” rushing to explain your anger but it just makes you feel worse.

luigi rolls his eyes, “I was catching up with my friends! you’re literally saying I dropped your hand. like what does that even mean? I don’t even remember the moment. god forbid I don’t pay attention to you for two seconds!” his tone and aggression shocked you. the last sentence is what made you go quiet. your face dropped, and you silently walk into the bathroom to take your makeup off.

lu regrets what it said as soon as it left his mouth. this is why he doesn’t like to be angry in front of you, regrettable things are said. he genuinely wants to help you during times of stress, but he doesn’t fully understand what goes on in your brain. he couldn’t tell that you were so upset over a small gesture.

as you leave the bathroom, getting ready for bed, you sigh, feeling a bit silly about overreacting. your feelings were valid, but the aftermath of a sudden argument makes you feel dizzy. you know that deep down he cares for you, but occasionally he doesn’t fully understand the extent of your anxieties. luigi was already falling asleep, so you lightly got into bed, not wanting to wake him.

the bed shifts as luigi turns over to face you, putting his hand on your waist. “this okay baby?”. you sighed and nodded yes.

rubbing his hands across your waist and your stomach, he begins to apologize, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or scared. I try to pick up on signals, but I can’t always read you that well. I’ll always be there to hold your hand,”

you hummed and placed your arm on his bicep, moments like these remind you why you love him so much. even during overwhelming situations, or not entirely understanding your reasoning, he still comes around, eventually.

“I love you, lu. I just get so overwhelmed and sometimes frazzled, sometimes my mind is like a car alarm that goes off for no reason, if that makes sense,” you explain, giggling. your laughs due to how silly it sounds out loud, but it’s true.

he smiles softly, trying to make sense of your analogy. “I see what you’re saying. sometimes I feel like a car that has no engine, I just shut off completely.” says jokingly, trying to make you smile.

you giggle, nudging your head into his chest, with his warmth enveloping you. “I think we both need to communicate more, amore,” he says softly, you know he’s joking, but there’s the truth behind it.

you felt him pull you closer, “I love you forever, my love. now get some rest” he softly says and presses a kiss on your forehead.

as you fall into a deep slumber, you feel so loved and appreciated by lu.

[hazzashouse]

Through the Darkness (Harry Styles one shot)

This topic is incredibly important to me. If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, please know you don’t have to go through it alone. Reach out to someone you trust—a friend, a family member, or a professional. You are not alone, and you are loved. There is strength in asking for support, and there are people who want to be there for you. You are never alone.

Pairing: Harry Styles x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Triggers: Depression, anxiety, emotional distress, mentions of isolation, self-doubt, and heavy themes of mental health struggles. Please read with care.

The world outside your apartment window was cold and colorless, mirroring the ache in your chest. Days blurred into nights, the sun rising and setting without your notice. It had been weeks since you last stepped outside for more than a grocery run. Even then, the strain of smiling at the cashier left you drained for days.

The depression you thought you’d left behind had returned, a familiar weight pressing against your chest, heavy and relentless. It was worse this time because it felt like failure. You’d been doing so well—hadn’t you? Harry had told you how proud he was. Your friends had said you seemed lighter. And now, here you were again, feeling like a burden to everyone you loved.

Harry was away on tour, as he always was this time of year. The texts and calls were there, of course. But you hadn’t told him. You couldn’t. His life was busy, full of flashing lights and cheering crowds, and you couldn’t bear to drag him into the shadows with you. He didn’t need that—not when he was living his dream.

So you suffered in silence, telling yourself you’d find your way out. Except, you didn’t.

Your best friend, Emily, was the first to notice. She’d stopped by unexpectedly, armed with a smile and coffee. You hadn’t answered her texts for days, and she’d decided to check in. When you opened the door, she froze, her face dropping.

“Hey…” she said softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “What’s going on, babe?”

You didn’t have the energy to lie.

Emily took one look at the unwashed dishes, the unopened curtains, and the dark circles under your eyes and immediately understood. She’d seen this before.

“Oh, love,” she murmured, pulling you into a hug. The warmth of her arms broke something inside you, and the tears you’d been holding back spilled over.

Emily didn’t leave that night. She made you tea, coaxed you into eating something, and stayed until you fell asleep. The next morning, she tried to talk to you about reaching out to Harry.

“He’ll want to know,” she said gently. “He loves you. You know he’d drop everything.”

But you shook your head. “I don’t want to ruin his tour. He’s happy.”

Emily sighed but didn’t push. Instead, when you weren’t looking, she sent Harry a message herself:

Hey, I know you’re busy, but she’s struggling again. She didn’t want me to tell you, but I think you should know. Call me when you can.

Harry didn’t see the text until hours later. His phone had been in the dressing room while he performed to a sold-out crowd. When the show ended and he finally unlocked it, Emily’s message was waiting.

He read it twice before his heart sank.

————————

Harry’s decision to leave wasn’t even a question. His team tried to reason with him, suggesting he finish the next two shows before taking a break, but he shook his head.

“No,” he said firmly. “She needs me. She’s more important than any of this.”

————————

The sound of a key in the lock woke you from a restless sleep. You sat up, your heart pounding as the door creaked open. When Harry’s familiar figure appeared, relief and guilt warred inside you.

“Harry?” Your voice cracked.

He didn’t say anything at first, just crossed the room in a few strides and pulled you into his arms. His chest rose and fell against yours, and you realized he was trembling.

“I’m here, love,” he whispered into your hair. “I’m here.”

You didn’t mean to cry, but his presence—his warmth, his steady heartbeat—was the comfort you hadn’t known you needed.

Harry didn’t try to fix you. He knew better than that. Instead, he stayed close, quietly reminding you of his love in the small ways that mattered most.

He opened the curtains one morning and sat with you on the couch, not saying a word as you watched the sunlight pour in.

He ran a bath for you, adding your favorite lavender oil, and sat outside the door in case you needed him.

He cooked meals you didn’t have the energy to eat but never made you feel guilty for it.

On the hardest days, when leaving the bed felt impossible, he stayed with you, holding your hand as if anchoring you to the world.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he told you one night, his voice steady. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it—I’m here.”

Slowly, the darkness began to lift. Harry’s patience, his unwavering support, created space for you to breathe again. He reminded you of the things you loved—the music you used to listen to, the books you hadn’t touched in months, the way your laughter used to fill the room.

It wasn’t easy, and there were setbacks. But with Harry by your side, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you’d be okay.

One afternoon, as you sat together on the couch, you looked at him and whispered, “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, his green eyes soft.

“For loving me. For staying.”

Harry smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”

And in that moment, you knew it was true.

————————

like and reblog if you liked it and follow me to not miss my future content - I will very much appreciate it! Lots of love, A.

[hoeforsungie]

💌 … ( 𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖊𝖜 ) 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 — stoned sex w/ Hannie

best friends to lovers! Hannie x fem reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎cw ・ teasing, lots of tension, Hannie and reader are both horny for each other, drug usage (don’t!) wc ・‎ 2.8k ‎| ‎ ‎[library link here]

[ ۫ ꣑ৎ author’s note ] here’s my first ever preview for a work i’m working on! tbh, the fic is loooong and i’m still writing. i decided to post the preview bc the actual fic is kinda sad, depressing, and dark. i’m worried people wouldn’t actually like that part until it gets to the filth, however i wanted to write a hurt/comfort with some smut for a while… and i may or may not have stoner hannie brainrot. i may post just the smut and loving bits as its own thing, as well as the whole fic when i finally finish? idk i’m rambling… well here enjoy this preview for needy stoned Hannie x reader.

oh btw, here’s a playlist w songs i listened to while writing this

divider by @v6que

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🕊️ ⋅ ˚Jisung was happy to see her smile, even if it was small and her eyes were still red and puffy from crying. A win is a win in his book. So, he happily followed along. The pair grabbed their shoes and the umbrella before leaving the building. The walk to their normal smoking hang out was pretty calm, despite the rain. At least, the rain had died down again into a steady drizzle, saving them from the monsoon-like downpour earlier. The only unfortunate thing was that the wind had picked up, blowing the rain sideways. This left her with no choice but to cling to Jisung as the bitter wind whipped around the two of them. It was about 10 minutes before they spotted the treehouse her parents had built when they were children. All their normal stuff was still there, pictures from their youth hanging on the wall. Now there was an old beat up couch (where their stash was hidden), a bed with a few pillows and blankets where many hours cuddling had been spent, and a projector.

Jisung climbed up first and turned around to offer his hand to y/n. After getting pulled up, she beelined towards the couch to pull out the bud as well as the lighter and the wraps. After wrapping the blunt, she handed it to Jisung as he flopped down onto the couch next to her. “Ladies first.” She giggled. He took the blunt with a begrudging look and held it in his mouth, waiting for her to light it. Y/n obliged and elbowed him “Don’t take all of it, make sure to leave some for me. You hog.” She elbowed her friend then rubbed at her eyes, probably trying to diffuse some of the puffiness remaining from her tears.

Jisung, of course, only offered her a punch to the arm instead and a snarky remark about how he ‘wasn’t the one who finished 70% of the last blunt.’ Y/n rolled her eyes and plucked the blunt from Jisung’s lips harshly. “Shut up, besides,” y/n says as she pauses to take a drag. “You said this was to smoke the depression away. Right now I think I need it more than you.” She stuck her tongue at Jisung, to which he replied by flicking her in the forehead. Y/n took another big drag and coughed. “Goddamn, it’s been a while since I smoked with you Jisungie.” After coughing for a bit, y/n tucked her legs under her and turned towards Jisung. She took a few more drags before putting it in between her two fingers and passing it to Jisung to take. He gladly took the blunt and took a large drag himself. Somehow, he didn’t cough like her, much to y/n’s dismay.

“Bro, are you fucking kidding me? You’re such a show off. Ugh, fuck you!” Y/n squeaked and started punching him anywhere she could hit. “You’re the worst.” She sighed and plopped her body forward so she could lean onto Jisung. Cuddling between them wasn’t something new by any means. She’d never admit it, but cuddling with Jisung recently has been giving her new thoughts to think about. She didn’t know when it happened, but one day she began to notice the way her heart beats louder when she feel jisung’s broad chest caging her in, as his arms wrapped around her. She’d especially take this one to the grave, but she really started noticing it as she slipped away to excuse herself to use the bathroom in a panic. It was pretty obvious when she slipped her underwear down to see the pearly string that attaches itself to her lips and her panties. It was slowly becoming clear to her that she was attracted to Jisung. Perhaps, in more ways than one.

Jisung chuckled at y/n’s cute little outburst and reached over to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Looked like it was getting in your lip gloss, y/nnie.” He said with a honey-dripped voice. He smiled as he noticed as a small blush crept along y/n’s cheeks, down towards her neck. His eyes trailed below as they followed the path the blush was burning on her skin. He swallowed thickly as his eyes reached below her collarbone where his white band t-shirt stuck to her skin snugly. The white had become similar to gossamer, her skin and black bra shining through, thanks to the rain. Taking a sharp inhale, Jisung unconsciously began digging into her arm tightly as he drank in the sight. As if on cue, he broke the spell and suddenly snapped his eyes back into y/n’s. He hoped that she hadn’t noticed, although he knew the chances were entirely too slim. He couldn’t even blink as he peered into y/n’s eyes. Now it was Jisung’s turn to blush, a warmth spreading across his own cheeks. He sputtered something about ‘needing space’ and ‘why are you over here when there’s the entire couch?’ then promptly shoved y/n across the couch, turning his head away from her to hide the blush that was igniting his skin.

Y/n, of course, wouldn’t stand for being pushed away from her heat source as the cold from the rain blew into the tree house. “Sungie, fuck off! What the hell was that for? You know it’s cold out.” She pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. After a few seconds of pouting silently she reached her arm out to grab the blunt that Jisung was holding in his hand, half forgotten. He yelped in surprise and moved his arm up in the air out of y/n’s reach. She slapped his shoulder and laughed as he grunted. After a few seconds of pretending to give up, she smiled and lunged even harder at Jisung. Launching herself off the couch and smiling in victory as she was able to reach the blunt Jisung held over his head, she failed to notice her miscalculation as she was now sitting in Jisung’s lap with her face very close to his own. He glared at her unamused but she still noticed the blush dusting his cheeks. The clock on the wall continued to tick on as the air around the pair thickened. Jisung’s own shocked expression melted into something much needier as she felt him try to physically run away from her hold. But with her sitting on his lap, he had nowhere to go. He pinched his eyebrows and turned his head, bringing his fist up in a feeble attempt to hide his teeth digging into his bottom lip at the suggestive pose the pair are in. With the way in which her arm is still frozen in the air at her attempt to get the blunt for herself, she begins to blush as bright as Jisung and feel a familiar slowly knot tying itself in her stomach. Y/n never thought she’d get turned on by such a small act, let alone from a simple mistake she made.

More time passed as the pair stared deeply, albeit curiously, into each other’s eyes. Jisung’s hands which were thrown around her waist in shock began to grip tighter at her hips, the fingers leaving indents in the milky skin where they were also splayed on her thighs. She parted her lips and he heard a small, breathy “Oh.” leave her. It was hard to deny, but this had a larger impact on y/n than she would have liked. She inhaled sharply as she felt her clit throb gently at the feeling at Jisung’s hands deliciously digging into her sides. It was her turn to look away in embarrassment as she quickly dismounted herself off his lap and back onto the couch with a pout. Stupid Jisung and the way he doesn’t realize the impact he has on me! She internally curses him as all she places the blunt back in between her sticky strawberry lips and inhales. After taking a long drag, and much to her enjoyment, the lack of a coughing fit, she crosses her hands back over into her lap and closes her eyes. She felt the beginning of her arousal begin to fade as she tried to be one of God’s stronger soldiers and put the thoughts flashing behind her eyes deep down into her subconscious. Something about the way Jisung’s fingers stung ever so slightly as he pushed into her plush thighs and waist with his soft hands threw her for a complete tailspin. Of course she’s had sex before, but never had she felt so ignited by such a small and subtle touch. It was as if a jolt of electricity had gone through her the second he laid his hands on her. Shaking her head vigorously to rid the sinful thoughts before they overwhelmed her and she could only imagine the way in which he would handle her, she tried to rid the unholy thoughts once more. Deciding to say “fuck it” and take another large drag from the blunt, end goal of becoming as high as possible in the fastest manner becoming clearer and clearer in her head. It was during this time in which she was so in her own head, she missed the golden opportunity to peek open her own eyes and see the disheveled state Jisung was in, similarly to her own.

If she were to peer over and turn her head towards Jisung, she would have had a heart attack and simultaneously seen the way he desired y/n so bad it was almost tangible. His head was reeling and chest heaving as he shut his eyes and flopped it back against the couch, staring up into the ceiling. His hair flopped with him and covered his eyes, but his own arousal was still apparent to any outsider. The way in which his bottom lip is still trapped between his teeth as he tries to catch his breath. The blush on his cheeks spread down to his chest where the slight dew of sweat began to gather. He pinched his nose bridge as he tried to will the thoughts and his raging boner away. The way in which y/n’s body looked so small on his lap, the way in which her thighs were so soft and plump in his hands. Her small, breathy, ‘oh’ that made his heart hang onto the idea that she was into him enough to find him sexually attractive, and the way in which her wet clothes clung to her form; it all made him go insane. He needed the weed to kick in any second now, hoping he could instead get lost in the sensation of being high rather than hopelessly longing for the feeling of y/n’s pink sugary lips gliding against his own. Heaving a heavy sigh, he looked over to y/n on the couch and slowly peeked his eyes at her form on the couch. Thanking whatever deity was allowing her to look so perfect before him, and luckily she was in her own world with her eyes closed. He let his eyes slowly drag down her body, a little more unashamedly now that he knew he didn’t have an audience to judge his own indulgence.

Jisung flitted his eyes down to her chest once again, running them along the valley of her collarbones, down to where her cleavage just faintly peeked out above the low collar she cut on his shirt, now claimed for herself and neatly stored in Jisung’s drawer for their impromptu sleepovers and other clothing emergencies. He dragged his eyes back up to her lips. He internally groaned as he saw the way her gloss smudged slightly from the blunt, the sugary pink tint shimmering softly in the light. After admiring her lips for a while, Jisung trailed his eyes down to her hips and smiled softly at what he saw. The grey sweatpants that they both owned as a matching set were sitting snugly on her hips. The ones with a little black star and the word “Youtiful” under it, that both of them got as a gift on graduation day from one of their closest friends. The ones that matched his very own. Thanking God and the people he saved in his last life, he smiled at the fact that even if y/n had so many other bottoms to choose from, she chose those special ones. Now here they were, both matching. As he thanked the universe for giving him this win, he stilled as he saw y/n inhale and slowly open her eyes before yawning and sitting up, lashes getting slightly wet from the unshed tears the strong yawn brought to her eyes. He sat up straighter, eyes still trained on her as he followed her every move. Imagine his surprise as he feels y/n shove the blunt between his lips and her hand on his cheeks, pushing into them lightly as she forces his mouth open (much like the kissy face a fish makes) to take the blunt. After she’s satisfied that the blunt remains lodged in Jisung’s plush lips, she withdraws her hand and whips her head away. He held his breath when the words y/n whispered met his ears.

“Mm feelin’ it slowly. It’s your turn to catch up now. Don’t wanna be high alone, Hannie.” Y/n mumbled out through pouted lips. She felt her cheeks heat up as she admitted to already feeling the pleasant sluggish feeling enveloping her body. After she was satisfied by seeing Jisung take a few drags himself, head laid back with one hand in his hair behind his head as he peered up at the ceiling, she let her own head flop back on the couch. Sighing with contentment, she snuggled further into the couch, allowing the comforting feeling of her incoming high roll onto her slowly. It was a few minutes that had passed before y/n’s eyes blink open again slowly as she sat up quickly realizing she had dozed off for about 30 minutes.

Embarrassment painted her features as she quickly realized where Jisung had been when she dozed off. She looked down and nearly yelped as she saw Jisung with his plump lips, open and spit-slicked, laying in her lap. She felt his hair tickle her thighs through the material of the sweatpants as she sucked in a breath and shook him gently, worried what would happen if he stayed there any longer. Now it was her turn to bite her lip as she felt him stir ever so slightly, and instead of waking up, he then wiggled his face deeper into y/n’s lap, grabbing at her and mumbling something incoherent except for the one word she caught. ‘Warm.’ Jisung burrowed in again, his nose nuzzling along her thigh as he breathed out peacefully, his breath fanning across her tummy, where her shirt had risen in her short slumber. Y/n’s breath caught as she let out a little hiccup when one deep sigh let out just the right amount of air to feel a small bead of arousal leak out of her hole and into her panties. After freezing in fear when she felt Jisung nuzzle impossibly deeper, almost driven in his sleep by his body’s unconscious drive to feel her closer. It was over for her though when she felt the tip of his nose nuzzle in just right so that it barely traced over her clothed clit. With a squeak she felt her clit throb more strongly this time and the arousal continued to pool in both her underwear and belly before she’d decided she’d had enough. She grabbed Jisung by the hair and lifted his sleeping body up.

Jisung awoke with a start and a yelp as his hands reached up to where y/n’s were caught tangled in his brunette locks. His bracelet jangled as he looked up at y/n with unshed tears and a pout on his lips, making them look so kissable. After a few seconds y/n smoothed her hand back over his hair and massaged it. She let her hands begin to knead into Jisung’s neck, trying to work out any sore spots as an apology for waking him up so urgently. With the pout still on his lips, he peered up at y/n as he felt his body begin to melt into her touch. “Why did you even do that anyways?” She shook her head and did something which Jisung did not expect at all. She leaned down and pressed her glossy lips to the tip of his nose gently. As his brain was short circuiting he looked up at her with his big boba eyes shining in the soft light and another pout formed on his lips. “W-what was that for?” He asked, his eyes trailing away to look at the posters and photos on the wall, a testament to the brilliance of your youth that you two shared together. Y/n simply smiled and retracted her face from Jisung’s. She twinkled out a laugh, eyes turning into little crescents, and flicked him in the forehead.

[rivalsispunk]

The Interview (Chapter 1 of ongoing series When We’re Alone)

Best friend’s dad!Declan O’Hara, boss!Declan O’Hara x AFAB reader

Journalist Declan O’Hara is in need of a personal assistant as his Corinium career skyrockets, and his daughter Taggie has the perfect candidate: her best friend. What seemingly starts as a professional relationship soon snowballs into something both Declan and reader were never expecting and are no longer able to deny.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, (eventual) smut, cursing, age gap romance (reader is a few years older than Taggie), more warnings added per chapter

Word count: 3.1k

Author’s note: Hello! Long time reader, first time poster! Please be kind but also let me know what you think! Proof read but probs still some mistakes. Not entirely canon, Declan still works for Corinium, Maud has disappeared to god knows where and the rest, well, you’ll have to read to find out :)

Chapter One: The Interview

You were going to positively kill Taggie once you returned to the Cotswolds. Only she, your closest friend since you relocated to the country after finishing your university degree six months ago, could convince you to cut your gap year short in favour of interviewing for a personal assistant job at Corinium. And, for her father, Declan O’Hara, no less.

“Oh, go on!” Taggie had pleaded with you over The Priory’s kitchen counter. “I know you’re getting bored out here. You can’t spend all of your days sitting around here, helping me peel the shite out of prawns for dinner parties.”

“Why not?” You plucked a grape from the fruit platter she’d just finished assembling for an event at Freddie and Valerie Jones’ that evening. “I happen to like spending all my time with you. Even if it does mean peeling shite out of crustaceans.” You eyed your friend with faux suspicion. “Are you getting sick of me already?”

“Of course not! I just think you’d be grand at it, that’s all, what with your journalism degree and all,” Taggie explained. “You’ve heard Daddy when he comes home. Always complaining about the sorts he’s had to interview. Plus, he already knows you. That’s ought to win you some points right there.”

“I suppose it wouldn’t be all bad,” you confessed, mulling the opportunity over as you chewed through another handful of grapes. It would look amazing on your resume and you’d have a foot in the door at one of the biggest TV networks in the United Kingdom. Plus, it wouldn’t kill you to have a front row seat to Declan in all his glory every single day. You would never mention it to Taggie, but you fancied her dad a rather handsome sod.

“Say you’ll do it. At the very least, for me?” Taggie bat her thick eyelashes at you.

“Fine,” you eventually relented, a smile cracking over your face at the new possibility. “I’ll go in for an interview, but no promises. And I don’t want you convincing him of me either! I want to get this job on my own merit, okay?”

“Convince Daddy of you? Please, he already adores you.” The sentiment spread fire through your chest. Tag rounded the kitchen bench and grabbed you by the hand. “Now let’s find you an outfit! Mummy ought to have left something halfway suitable behind.”

Taggie nor Declan had said much about their absentee matriarch Maud in the recent weeks since she fled the countryside after yet another explosive argument between her and her husband. You knew better than to ask, but you could tell by the way Taggie’s shoulders sagged at the sight of her mother’s partially empty closet that her absence had a somber affect on her.

You’d only been into the main bedroom of The Priory once before, when the room was overtaken by Maud’s florally perfumes and extravagant evening gowns. This time, however, the space was so intrinsically Declan; all heady cedarwood and whisky and smoke. Shirts with patterns of plaid and tartan as well as numerous odd, natural-coloured socks were peppered across armchairs and vanities, while a stack of memoirs sat on his bedside with a full ashtray perched atop. Your heart swelled, and sunk simultaneously, at the thought of Declan being sat up here alone at night, or early of a morning, thumbing through a book while taking slow drags of his cigarette as he let himself be consumed by a life far different to the one he was currently living.

“How about this?” Taggie’s voice ripped through your daydream, forcing you away from thoughts of her father. You peered at the oatmeal-coloured dress she had retrieved from the closet, surprised that Maud owned something so…brown. You’d always known her to wear jewel tones that complimented her flaming red hair. You shook your head, and thus began a cycle of Taggie suggesting an outfit and you shooting it down. Eventually, you agreed to Taggie swapping out your creature comfort jeans and Wham! T-shirt for an old black pencil skirt that you were convinced had given you hives from the way your legs hadn’t stopped itching since you put it on, as well as a silky fuchsia blouse that stretched a little too tight over your breasts. While your friend had done a good job at assuring you that you’d fit right in at the Corinium offices, you weren’t as convinced.

The receptionists, all in latest season fashion with not a hair out of place, had looked you up and down as soon as you stepped foot in the marble foyer, snickering behind your back about your fashion fauxpas once you’d checked in. Sarah Stratton wasn’t as covert with her judgement. As you sat outside Declan’s office, waiting to be called in, Sarah outwardly guffawed when she spotted you across the floor. You’d met her several times in passing at parties and Corinium events you’d previously attended as Taggie’s plus one, and for the most part, she’d kept her observations to herself. But now, as her red heels clip across the carpet, her gaze set right on you with her matching rouge lips upturned. “I would never have expected to see you here, darling!” she coos down at you, reaching for a strand of hair that has slipped in front of your shoulder. “And playing dress ups, no less!” Another laugh tinkers out of her as she twirls your hair around her finger. “Interviewing for the assistant job with Declan, hm?”

You nod with a taut smile and try not to let her comment about you looking god-awfully out of place get to you. Sarah’s eyes shift to Declan’s closed mahogany door and tuts. “Well, good luck, sweetheart. Seems like you’ll need it with the way the rest of those interviews have panned out.”

“Oh, hop off it, Sarah!” an unmistakingly Irish voice barks from your left. Sarah jolts upright and despite the embarrassment that tinges her cheeks pink, still manages throw a sultry smile in Declan’s direction. Your posture matches her pin-straight stature as you side-eye his office. It hadn’t occurred to you that he wasn’t inside, preparing for your interview the way you had been all morning. You’d crafted your pitch of yourself perfectly, complete with ideas and suggestions for potential guests for Declan’s show, anything to set you apart, make you seem even a fraction less useless that the interviewees that came before you. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Where’s James?” he questions Sarah, alluding to the very common knowledge that she and her co-host James Vereker are having an affair. Declan makes a show of raking through his moustache - god, that moustache - then adds with a smirk, “James and better. Probably not two words that should be in the same sentence, eh?” Sarah’s smile plateaus at that, and that stiff upper-lip culture she was dying to marry into takes its place.

“I’m sure I can make myself busy, Declan. Got a show to prepare and all that. Ciao!” She doesn’t look at you again and you’re grateful that Declan starts to speak before you bumblefuck your way through the silence.

“Ciao,” he repeats once Sarah’s out of earshot . “Doubt that leech of a woman’s ever had a decent carbonara, let alone stepped foot in Italy.” he says, offering you the first genuine smile you’ve received all day. “Let’s get to it, shall we?” He swings open his office door and holds an arm out. “After you, love.”

“Thanks.”

You shuffle into the room ahead of him, completely oblivious to the way Declan’s eyes are trained on your arse in a skirt that’s familiar to him, but he’s unsure how. Right now, however, he doesn’t care, because it fits your body so magnificently, as if it were made for you. He fights to ignore the dull throb beneath his trousers while he watches you sit, the black fabric pushed to its limits as it stretches across the globes of your arse.

God, has she always been so… womanly? Declan wonders, then immediately chastises himself for leering so openly at his daughter’s best friend. Yes, she was a few good years older than Taggie, and always a beautiful girl, but he was glad his middle child had finally made a friend amid the shitshow that was the move to the country and his crumbling marriage to Maud. He didn’t need to muddy the waters with pervacious thoughts about the young lass’ curves. If only she’d shown up to his office in her usual ripped jeans and George Michael-adorned tees.

“Everything okay, Mr O’Hara? Should I sit somewhere else?” you ask when you notice Declan frozen in the doorway with a furrow etched in his brow. You immediately start second-guessing yourself and wonder if this was a bad idea after all. You can only imagine everyone else who lost out on this job before you faced that same expression. He shakes his head at you, at himself, then busies himself with straightening his maroon tie as he moves to sit behind his desk. You shift in your seat, trying to thwart of the lingering itch Maud’s skirt has buried into the back of your thigh. You think if you can wriggle just so, you can ward it off for at least the main portion of the interview. While you think your subtle movements go unnoticed by Declan because he’s perusing your resume - impressive, he’d earlier noted in black pen beside details of your internship at The Times - he’s been clocked onto your behaviour since he’d laid eyes on you across the office. Scared shitless, and he doesn’t half know that Sarah’s sneaky comments only added to it, thanks to the way you’re fidgeting with that damned skirt mere metres away from him. If Declan had any less sense in him, any less dignity, he’d have half the mind to tear it straight from your body. Of course, he decides against it and tries a less barbaric approach to settle your nerves.

“No band t-shirt today?”

Now it’s your turn for your brows to knit together. “I’m sorry?” Declan nudges his head in the general direction of your chest and your chin dips in response to see what he’s referring to. There, your vision is flanked with fluorescent pink and a tinge of flesh where the silky material doesn’t quite stretch to cover your breasts between buttons, and you silently curse Taggie for allowing you to wear something so borderline revealing at her father’s workplace. Plus, you were surprised he’d even noticed your usual attire.

“I thought it was best I grow up a bit in the clothing department if I were to go for a job at Corinium,” you confess. Declan doesn’t miss the way the swell of your breasts arch against your shirt when you take a deep breath and fold your arms across yourself. “But now I’m thinking the bright pink was a mistake.”

You peer across the expansive wooden desk expectantly, and Declan pitches his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t ask me! Fashion, clearly, is not my strong suit. All I know is, according to my girls, leaving the house with ladders in your tights is a big no-no unless you’re a gothic or Winona Ryder.”

You chuckle at that, even more so for knowing that his youngest daughter, Caitlin, would be all for half-shredded tights.

Declan looks coy as he sips from his tea. “But if it counts for anything, you look lovely.”

“Well, I should hope you think so. These are your wife’s clothes, after all.” Your confession elicits a splutter from the otherwise put together man in front of you. Tea spouts from his lips across the desk, marring your resume and any other papers with brown stains. You immediately spring into action, scanning the room for a towel, handkerchief, anything that could mop up the mess.

“Sorry, love,” Declan says quietly, thumping a fist against his chest. “Wrong pipe.”

That’s when you see it, a pocket square the same colour as his tie poking from his breast pocket. Without thinking, you lurch across Declan’s desk and pluck it from its resting place, and begin soaking up the liquid. Declan ought to help you, it’s his mess after all, but he’s frozen at the view you’ve awarded him as you lean over. Your cleavage fights against the V cut of Maud’s blouse and Declan can just make out the ripple of a black lace bra below the neckline. He can’t even imagine Maud in that outfit. Right now it’s all so you. His cock stirs at the sight and he can’t help the pained groan that bubbles up his throat.

“Stop,” he breathes in barely a whisper. You don’t, of course, you can’t hear him, and you keep wiping at the desk, your breasts bouncing with every swipe up and down.

“Christ, girl, stop it!” Declan explodes, bolting up from his chair. Thankfully, the height of his desk hides his growing bulge, but it doesn’t matter. The look of pure fear painting your face has the same effect as a cold shower. You sink back into your seat and begin spluttering apologies, that you shouldn’t have used his pocket square, that you were out of line and another dozen variations of sorry, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Declan mirrors you by returning to his chair, raking a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he states eventually. “I don’t give a dying rats arse about the pocket square. It’s just… I’m a bloody fool just standing here while you clean up after me. I can’t have you doing that. You don’t even work for me.”

Despite the shock of Declan’s outburst, you manage to muster up a bit of cheek in response. “I don’t even work for you yet,” you correct him.

Your confidence juts Declan’s eyebrows to his curly hairline and a grin cracks across his face. “Cocky little thing, aren’t ya? Go on then.. tell me why I should hire you.”

You spend the next twenty minutes talking Declan through your university studies and experience, the tension from earlier already forgotten. When Declan mentions he once worked with your media law professor, the conversation detours into the pair of you sharing stories about your experiences with the man, far too senile and set in his ways to do the younger generation any good. The rest of the interview carries on like that, you and Declan laughing and exchanging anecdotes like two friends in the pub rather than an employer vetting a potential employee. You’re about to pitch the idea of getting Farah Fawcett on Declan’s show when the office door thumps open to reveal Corinium’s managing director, Tony Baddingham, at its entryway.

“O’Hara! If you’re done with giggling like a little schoolgirl down here, we’ve got a production meeting to get to,” he bites, barely glancing in your direction. You don’t miss the roll of Declan’s tawny eyes as he waves Tony off.

“Alright, Tony. Give me five, I’m just finishing up here,” he says before introducing you by name.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Baddingham,” you tell him, standing to shake his hand. He doesn’t properly look at you until your palms meet, and your spine stiffens when his beady eyes rake over you.

“One of Declan’s assistant candidates, I presume?” he wonders aloud.

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, you’re far prettier than some of the other trolls we’ve had roll through here recently.”

“Tony,” Declan warns. The last thing he wants is another man leering at you like you’re a rite of passage for them.

“Right, well, lovely to meet you,” Tony clasps his other hand over the top of yours, careening his neck so he’s at your eye level. “Hope to see you around here. You’ll definitely be a much-appreciated addition.”

Offering a tight-lipped smile, you reserve the urge bawk in his face. You’ve worked with enough Tony Baddinghams to know his interest in you has nothing to do with your professional ability and everything to do with aesthetics. Fucking men.

For the most part, they sickened you and Declan all the same, but for the latter, he was mainly sickened with himself for wanting to pummel Baddingham for the way he was eye-fucking you. But who was he to talk? He’d been doing the exact same thing just minutes earlier.

When Tony leaves the office, he leaves the door ajar, a reminder that Declan is expected elsewhere. You’re about to ask Declan if Tony is always so…Tony, but he’s already got his briefcase in hand and is ushering you towards the door. “I have to admit, I was surprised when Taggie said you wanted to interview for this position, with you being on a gap year and all,” he confessed as you strolled out onto the office floor. “But you know your stuff. You’re bloody intelligent. Passionate. That’s rare these days.”

“Thank you, Mr O’Hara.”

“Please, call me Declan. Here, and at The Priory. Just Declan,” he smiles and you return it.

“Alright, then. Declan.”

“I’ve got to get going, but I’ll let you know about the job. There’s a couple more interviews on the books in the next few days, I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.”

Declan gives you a curt nod, and you start for the elevator, but you barely make it five steps before he calls you back.

“For what it’s worth, I’d be lucky to have ya here. And like I said, you look great, but I prefer the jeans and t-shirts. They’re much more…you.”

His admission sends your heart thrumming against your ribcage, and red creeps up your neck and onto your cheeks. “Thank you, Mr O’Ha- Declan,” you correct yourself. “Thank you, Declan. See you around.” You turn on your patent black heel, leaving Declan standing there with an image that’s bound to haunt him for nights to come: you in that fucking skirt.

Please let me know if you enjoyed this, and if you’re feeling generous, a lil’ reblog won’t go astray <3

[gretagerwigsmuse]

But tonight, you were on the clock instead of watching - this made me smile each time i read it

but not even the decent severance package they sent you out the door with could have cushioned that blow. You’d been laid off from your tech job just in time for your industry to be hit with hiring freezes - okay but now i can really pretend she’s me

like a groundhog’s day from hell - HAHA

You couldn’t remember who your first celebrity crush was, but you definitely remembered the boy with the curly brown hair who was responsible for giving you butterflies in your stomach for the very first time. - i mean matt damon, but if i had bradley bradshaw around growing up id forget all about him

You’d always hoped he remembered you just as fondly. - oh 🥺

Just like you knew that he was left-handed but preferred to throw a baseball with his right. - i love these little details! this and the stuff about the dole whip and mini golf are so sweet and from a time gone by

“I don’t know about ‘hotter’, but probably taller since that last time I saw you.” - AND BROADER 🤭 oh my god he’s so pretty and he had the perfect response to this

more below 💕

“I keep telling the squad to stop underestimating the old man, but they never learn. They’re still just as competitive as ever.” - HE WAS THE ONLY ONE IN THE MOVIE WHO CAUTIONED AGAINST THE PUSHUPS BECAUSE HE KNEW!!!

“I feel like there’s some kind of ‘the birds and the bees’ joke here. One I’m not qualified to make since you were always the funnier one of the two of us.” - ohmyfuckinggod he’s such a NERD ugh i love him

The way Penny said it always made it seem like you should know who she was talking about - girl thinks she’s SLICK

“I’d like to catch up, if you have time for an old friend.” Friend. The word shook you out of whatever Bradley Bradshaw induced haze you’d found yourself in. - oh sweet girl 🥺 my stomach dropped at that too

He helped you paint the kitchenette in the loft a soft blue- with your aunt’s permission, of course. - this is so?!? who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me!?! like!? and the tight uva shirt?? bye (don’t even get me started on the family dinners)

He’d even taken you for a spin on his motorcycle. - not to derail, but can you imagine smart aleck doing this? oh my god bradley would go mental (affectionate)

It was nice to have a friend. - oh sweet girl 🥺 and i love the part about her not being too hard on herself because he really is the sweetest boy and it’s so easy to have a crush on him

“It’s the weekend, Bee,” Bradley said like it explained everything. “It’s a Wednesday.” - everything about this has me giggling

because then he was leaning in, in, in. - THE REPETITION!!! and then friend friend friend!!!

He ended up giving Penny and Mav the same treatment too. Although Pete shoved him away good-naturedly when he tried to plant a particularly sloppy one on him. - OBSESSED with this!!! i know he’s a head kisser!! especially since maverick is so goddamn short! and the bit with amelia!?? BEST FRIENDS SIBLINGS (edit: did he get her a christmas present? i love the visual of her just standing super still and everyone else in the house being a little chaotic)

Everything sparkled and shined, the light bouncing off everything gave the bar a wonderfully hazy glow, it was the perfect ambiance for the most hopeful night of the year. - i wanna go to a new year’s party like this with all my friends 🥰

Bradley was dressed up in a navy suit that fit him in all the right places, looking more handsome than you knew possible. All broad shoulders and thick thighs. The top button of his pristinely pressed white shirt undone, giving you a peek at the divot base of his throat. - STOP THIS! how dare you keep this from me!?? oh my god it’s a FANCY PARTY!?? god he’s so pretty and tall and broad AND HIS THICK THIGHS!?! she’s stronger than any naval aviator

Bradley chuckled and reached out taking an end of the little rhinestone bow that dangled from right beneath your neck where the straps met and twirled it between his fingers for a moment. “I think this might be my favorite part though,” he rasps lowly. There was an intensity in his eyes directed at you that you hadn’t seen before. - jesusfuckingchrist i got butterflies why can’t he be real like you know i love a bow moment

He hadn’t come up to you at all since before the party started…saw him talking with the girl in the shiny dress and her interested eyes as you put the freshly washed glasses away. - oh 🥺 he always comes up to talk though 🥺

The countdown had snuck up on you. Just like everything else had this year. - love this sentence and i also really like how you put a little blurb after each number in the countdown. i like that the countdown ends with her smiling to herself and being happy for herself! and all the work she did with the decorations and party planning work perfectly

You’ve come to accept that he had a piece of you that you weren’t sure you were ever going to get back. But that was something for you to deal with next year. - oh 🥺 and then there was bradley 🥺

As you got back into the groove of serving people, your brain snagged on the sound of Auld Lang Syne being played on the upright piano at the other end of the bar, and the only person it could be playing it. - this is so hot of him i’m being so serious, i love auld lang syne so much, it’s so gorgeous on the piano and slowed down

That even though the ball had dropped and the confetti had fallen you weren’t ready to have the night be over yet. Knowing that the moment you locked up for good and got in your car and headed home, that the bottle of champagne you’d bought for yourself and plans with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal wouldn’t hit quite the way you’d hope it would. - oh 🥺 this made me sad. she doesn’t want the magic to end and be alone 🥺

He says it so conspiratorially, like he’s getting away with something and you’re an eyewitness to his delinquency, as if he wasn’t a decorated golden boy of the United States Navy. - NEPO BABY!!! but ugh i just know he’s got this cheeky smile on his face!!

You’ve spent all night catering to everyone else, it’s nice to have someone looking out for you now. - this is so sweet! oh i love this like he wants to take care of her! like he easily could’ve asked her for a drink, but he does all the work!

“It was nice enough, I guess,” he says, giving you a half smile, “I’m having a much better time now though.” - sweetest boy!!!! ugh

He takes the bottle and pours you a little more. “People kept hogging my favorite bartender.” - ENOUGH!!! this is so cute!!! and their little back and forth!? the fact that he pushes back on her response is so 🤭🤭

“You see, I’ve been saving these ones for just the right girl.” - my heart would stop, my jaw would drop, i’d be a mess 🤭 this is SO cute wowowowowow

This rendition was delicate and atmospheric. Intimate. Almost like the music was wearing its heart on its sleeve. - just like is bradley in this moment!! he’s so smooth with all of this, but it still feels so earnest and sweet?

“This doesn’t feel very friendly,” you whisper. - oh sweet girl!!!! she doesn’t want to believe it yet

“You didn’t get a New Years Eve kiss.” It’s a statement. Like he knows because he was paying attention. - oh bradley 🤭 isn’t it the same thing, love and attention?

Bradley brings both hands to cup your face. - TWO HANDS!!!! oh bradley!!!

That it’s the moment he’s been waiting the last four months for. - bestie you both have been waiting for years even if you didn’t know it

But only after Bradley finally stops kissing you long enough to grab that cork he’d shot across the bar earlier, pretending not to see the way he tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket. - i knew one of them was going to keep it!!!!

And you can’t help but think that this really will be the best one yet. - 🤭🤭 i hope so

Save Your Midnights for Me

Summary: This year has thrown you through a loop. You lost your job, you moved to San Diego, and you reunited with your summer crush from all those years ago who still is just as handsome as ever. As the clock ticks down, you can’t help but wonder what the new year might have in store for you.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 9k

Warnings: fluff and two pining idiots in love

(Author’s note: this one is for the hopeful romantics! Happy New Year, friends!)

You’ve always loved New Year’s Eve. The excitement, the fun, the champagne, the confetti. Everyone riding the high of the hope and potential of the new year ahead.

But tonight, you were on the clock instead of watching as it inched closer and closer to midnight with every tick of the second hand.

The evening has been a whirlwind of cheerful faces as you pour pint after pint of frothy, cold beers. Your arms were definitely feeling the burn of all the margaritas and whiskey sours you’ve been serving up. You were putting all your well-earned practice from the last four months of working at the Hard Deck into good use for the steady stream of Naval patrons who had come to gather and celebrate.

But you liked the steady flow. It kept you focused; it kept you busy. With your head down and your thoughts occupied with tasks and orders and drink recipes and tabs, it spared you from having to see Bradley with the girl in the silver dress who was making it more than clear whose midnight kiss she was after.

Bradley Bradshaw had been the star in all your daydreams growing up. You just never could have anticipated that you still wouldn’t be able to kick that summer crush on him, even all these years later.

This year… hadn’t been the greatest.

The meeting you’d thought was going to be the start of a new chapter in your career with that promotion you’d been hoping and working so hard for had ended with you clearing out your desk and turning in your ID badge, but not even the decent severance package they sent you out the door with could have cushioned that blow.

You’d been laid off from your tech job just in time for your industry to be hit with hiring freezes so glacial it felt like there must have been a breakthrough in global warming, as if the ice caps weren’t melting.

You spent days then weeks then months applying and interviewing on repeat like a groundhog’s day from hell, only to encounter more closed doors than open ones. Had enough ever-so-casual networking coffee chats that you were pretty sure you’d need to switch to decaf if you still wanted to have some functioning adrenal glands by the time you were fifty.

Coming close- so, so close- so many times. Having the final decision come between you and another candidate only for your fingertips to slip off the edge at the very last moment.

Still freefalling the same way you’d been since you’d first been let go.

With your savings dwindling and spirits low, you’d decided that what you needed most was to decompress and reassess. And where better than the place where some of your favorite memories had been made.

All it had taken was one call to your Aunt Penny for the little strands of silver lining to peek out from behind the gray clouds that had filled your skies lately.

By the end of the conversation not only did you have a place to land- the furnished loft above the garage with an ocean view from the tiny kitchen- but also a just-for-now job too, getting to work with her at the bar. Something to help get you back on your feet while the dust of your imploded life settled around you as you figured out your next move.

You weren’t known for staying in any place too long as it was, so it had been easy to pack up and leave the city you’d been living in for the Southern California sun, feeling lighter than you had in ages.

Your mom’s longtime best friend was quite possibly one of your favorite people on Earth. And still is.

There was nothing you looked forward to more than those summers you got to spend in San Diego, when you got to trade your textbooks for days out on the boat. Your family would rent at home near the Benjamin beach house and for almost two months it was carefree days of endless blue water and sand between your toes.

But without a doubt, the highlight of your summer was always Bradley Bradshaw.

A few years older than you, he’d been the cute boy who was the object of all your daydreams. You couldn’t remember who you first celebrity crush was, but you definitely remembered the boy with the curly brown hair who was responsible for giving you butterflies in your stomach for the very first time.

While your brother was more than fine trying to ditch you at every turn, Bradley had always made you feel like you were right where you were supposed to be. He always made you feel included. He had been the one to teach you how to wakeboard, gave you his free dole whip when he made a hole-in-one at Tiki Town, and sat next to you the first time you ever rode the Giant Dipper Roller Coaster.

Even though Penny and Mav’s relationship had been on and off for years, Bradley had remained a steady presence in your life every July and August.

Until the one summer when he didn’t show up.

You’d sat on the stairs with your arms wrapped around your knees that first night and listened on as your mom and Penny talked, piecing together the explanation for Bradley’s absence and why your aunt was dating the uninteresting man you’d met earlier that night at dinner.

The sun, the sand, and the sights were all the same. And yet everything had changed after that.

That had been your last San Diego summer.

You moved on, you went to college, you grew up. But you had never forgotten the boy who had made you feel like sunshine.

You’d always hoped he remembered you just as fondly.

When you heard that Penny and Mav were back together, you thought there might be a chance to see him again, you were always curious about how things had turned out for you. You just never expected for him to quite literally crash back into your life.

Or for all of those sun-warmed feelings came rushing back.

It was your third day of working at the Hard Deck.

You were still getting use to the lay of the land- and announcing corner whenever you made your way out of the stockroom- when you’d come out of the back with your arms full of refill napkins packs only to collide with a wall of muscles with a less than dignified oof.

“Oh, shit!” The hand that reached out to grasp your hip was probably the only reason you hadn’t landed on your ass, even as the napkins went everywhere. “Sorry, that was my- wait, Bee?”

The nickname from your younger years was exclusively reserved for close family and friends. Shortened over time from busy bee, a name your mom still wrote in your birthday and Christmas cards, because of the way you were always pursuing new activities with the kind of intense tenacity only found in the most precocious of kids.

Although, no one who’d known you squarely post-braces had ever called you that before. And definitely not anyone so solidly built with such a masculine, raspy voice.

But you knew those rich brown eyes and sun-streaked curls.

Just like you knew that under the soft looking linen blend shirt there’d be freckles dotted along his shoulder. Just like you knew that he was left-handed but preferred to throw a baseball with his right. Just like you knew he rode the Beach Blaster four times in a row that one time, not because he liked it, but because he was trying to get over his fear of heights.

“Bradley?” The right side of his mouth pulled up in a smile, seemingly pleased you recognized him. “Bradley Bradshaw?” you repeat, because even though he was standing less than three feet away from you, your brain was having a hard time processing the boy you’d known was now the man in front of you.

You hadn’t seen him since you were fifteen.

Although, you did try to look him up once in college when you and your roommates were tipsy off cheap sparkling wine and talking about first crushes. Giggling over poor choices and high-fiving over the ones who still Had It. Only when it was your turn, you’d found out pretty quick that he wasn’t on any socials- at least none that the four of you could sleuth out drunk on sheer determination and peach Andre. They’d let you have the rest of the bottle as a consolation prize when you’d all come up emptyhanded.

Bradley Bradshaw had remained a mystery to you, until that moment.

Gone was any trace of baby fat from his familiar face, replaced with a defined jaw and crinkles around the corners of his eyes. There were scars on his cheek and neck that hadn’t been there before, but the smile underneath that mustache was the same one from those summers all those years ago.

“It’s been a long time, huh?” Bradley said.

The only difference was the cute boy you’d known growing up was now quite possibly the most handsome man you’d ever seen.

“How’d you get even hotter?” you blurted. It only took a split second for your brain to catch up with your mouth, wincing at the words that hung in the air unable to take them back.

Bradley’s eyes widened in surprise just for a moment before he laughed. Loud and unguarded and amused.

Mortified and flustered you drop down to your knees to pick up the scattered brown craft paper wrapped bundles of napkins that littered the narrow hallway. His presence- and bulk- filling up the already small space.

He kneeled down next to you, helping to collect the packs. “I don’t know about ‘hotter’, but probably taller since that last time I saw you.” You couldn’t help but notice how big his hands were as he reached for the furthest one that was sent flying as victim of your two-person Big Bang.

And broader, you think.

“We’ve been doing a lot of push-ups lately,” Bradley chuckled, “I keep telling the squad to stop underestimating the old man, but they never learn. They’re still just as competitive as ever.”

“Jesus,” you muttered under your breath, needing a rock to crawl under. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that ruffled around a man before. So caught off guard that all semblance of casually cool had left the building. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, and attempted to diffuse the situation with some self-deprecating humor, “Well, I wish second puberty had been as kind to me as it was for you.”

“From what I can see, it looks like it was pretty damn kind to you too.”

You’d pressed your lips together and fought back grin as you shook your head, reaching for another bundle. The last thing you’d needed was for him to be charming too.

You felt his gaze on the side of your face, like he was trying to catch your eye, and when you couldn’t avoid it any further without making it weird you met those warmer than cinnamon brown eyes.

“It’s good to see you again.” There was an earnest smile still in place on his face as he passed you the napkins he’d collected from his side of the hall.

He looked at you- probably the same way you’d been looking at him only a couple moments ago- trying to reconcile the carefree girl with the stunned woman in front of him, seeing what changes could be picked out on a face that hadn’t been seen in over a decade. You didn’t dare call it interest that was flickering in his eyes, but you could safely say there was at least some curiosity reflected in them.

You knew he wasn’t flirting, just trying to make you feel better less awkward about your earlier slip. Playing along the same way he did when he’d sabotage your brother at the water gun war game at Belmont Park so that you could stand a chance at winning a stuffed animal prize.

“It’s good to see you again, too,” you replied, meaning it as you gave him a smile of your own for the first time and watching as his own grew a little wider.

“Bee? Did you find them? The napkins should be-” Penny came rounding the corner, taking in the scene in front of her and who you’d been delayed by. Your whole body jolted like she’d caught you playing 7 Minutes in Heaven instead of crouching on the floor. “Oh, I see you’ve found Rooster. And the napkins.”

“It was my bad, Penny, I plowed right into her,” Bradley- Rooster?- said standing back up, wrapping a hand under your elbow to help guide you up to your feet.

“Sorry, I’ll be right there,” you told her, gesturing with your napkin filled arms. He was quick to reach out and catch one of the slipping packs from the top of the pile before it could fall to the ground again, helping you to get them better situated and less like a Jenga stack waiting to collapse.

“There’s no rush. I just wanted to make sure you were finding everything alright.” Her eyes drifted back and forth between the two of you, before landing on him and flicking down to the hand still on your elbow. “Hey, since you’re here, would you mind grabbing a fresh keg of the Stone Brewing lager for me?”

He nodded, letting go of you and hooking his thumbs into his front pockets. “Sure thing, can do.”

“Thank you, Bradley. And Bee,” she continued, turning back to you, “You can just bring those up when you’re ready.” You didn’t know what to make of the smile she gave you before she’d set off back to the bar.

The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments, although it hadn’t been the uncomfortable kind.

Bradley cleared his throat, his mouth quirking to one side. “I feel like there’s some kind of ‘the birds and the bees’ joke here. One I’m not qualified to make since you were always the funnier one of the two of us.”

That time it was your turn to laugh. You were more than a little pleased when his deeper one mixed with yours.

You warred with yourself- still holding those damn napkins- whether or not to wrap things up and go take them to Penny, but you wanted to know more.

“Rooster?” you’d asked, tilting your head at him in question.

“Believe it or not, I finally got past that fear of heights,” he explained, “I’m a pilot now.” You felt your smile grow on its own, it was something he’d always talked about. You were happy to learn he’d made it happen for himself. “Rooster is my callsign.”

It was a name you’d heard a few times since moving into the loft above the garage. The way Penny said it always made it seem like you should know who she was talking about, you just hadn’t taken a moment to ask, figuring that you’d meet this mysterious ‘Rooster’ eventually. You just never would have guessed you already knew him.

You told him as much, adding on, “Maybe she thought we’d kept in touch.”

“I would have liked that.” You ignored the fluttering low in your stomach. There was something in his voice that made your mouth go a little dry. “What’re you doing later? Are you here for long? I’d like to catch up, if you have time for an old friend.”

Friend.

The word shook you out of whatever Bradley Bradshaw induced haze you’d found yourself in.

You didn’t know how long you were going to be here, but one thing was for sure, all the two of you were ever going to be was platonic. It was a necessary reminder before any coconut sunscreen scented daydreams tempted you off course.

A smile stayed plastered to your face, one that felt more forced than it had been a few heartbeats ago, “I’m behind the bar until midnight, but I’ll be your friendly neighborhood bartender for the foreseeable future.”

Bradley grinned. “Guess, I’ll be seeing you around then, Bee.”

“I guess you will, Rooster.”

And you did.

You went from not seeing Bradley Bradshaw for over a decade to seeing him multiple times a week.

He kept you company at the bartop, swiveling on his stool, on slow nights as you found little projects to keep yourself occupied, like polishing and reorganizing the Hard Deck’s glassware collection. Filling each other in on the important things and people that had helped shaped the two of you into the adults that you’d grown into.

Rooster introduced you to his friends and teammates, making you feel not only included but liked you belonged in that same way he had when you were kids. Seamlessly bringing up common interests you shared with the people closest to him, giving you something to connect with them on your own outside of him. Always taking the initiative to extend invites your way to hang out at the beach or to check out the best spot for breakfast or to experience a Padres game complete with an unofficial culinary food tour of Petco Park.

He helped you paint the kitchenette in the loft a soft blue- with your aunt’s permission, of course. Meticulously taping off the countertop edges and cabinets, yet somehow ending up wearing more paint on an old, tightfitting UVA shirt that had seen better days than he got on the wall.  

And on Sunday nights he was seated across from you at the oak dining table with Amelia, Penny, and Pete for the weekly dinner the five of you all had together. They’d been back together for over a year now, and it seemed like it was for good this time based on the way they looked at each other. Your aunt was noticeably happier than she’d been even just a few years ago, that spark back that had been dimmed from an unhappy marriage.

You were happy for her and Mav.

He’d even taken you for a spin on his motorcycle. It was a one and done event, reaffirming what you already knew, that you were more of a four-wheel girl than a two-wheel one.

When you weren’t at the bar or working on the few remote side gigs you’d taken on to keep your skills feeling fresh, you were helping Amelia learn to code. It wasn’t your forte, but you were having fun spending time with her and teaching her what you did know. And in return, she’d help you to revamp your wardrobe a bit. You thought California cool looked good on you.

There had been a brief moment when you’d been packing up your old apartment when you’d worried about being lonely in San Diego not knowing anyone outside of your family, but you were the furthest thing from lonely and you had Bradley to thank for that.

It was nice to have friend.

However, you were finding that crush on him harder to get over than you anticipated.

You still get annoyed at yourself when he smiles at you a certain way making your cheeks heat up and your stomach flip. Although, you try not to be too hard on yourself because he’s genuinely kind and good looking and you’re only human. God knows you’ve seen enough people notice him too from your perch behind the bar.

But there were worse problems to have.

You had spent that morning getting the Hard Deck decorated for the big New Year’s Eve party.

As the first to arrive, you’d gotten the coffee going on the ancient coffee maker that you were trying your hardest to get Penny to replace when a big hand skimmed the side of your waist, reaching past you to steal the cup you’d just poured for yourself.

You turned to see a sleepy looking Bradley standing behind you, his curled looked more like they were fresh off his pillow than the way you usually saw them styled.

“It’s too early for this.” You watched as he took a big swig from the cup, wincing as he registered just how hot Jimmy’s machine had brewed the coffee, just a couple degrees below scalding.

You gave him an unimpressed look, “Says the man who routinely wakes up at 5am for a sunrise run.”

“It’s the weekend, Bee,” Bradley said like it explained everything.

“It’s a Wednesday.”

“Schematics.” He took another deep sip of your coffee, but not before you caught the mischievous way his mouth was curved upwards. “Everyone knows the days between Christmas and New Years Day are the Wild West of the calendar year, every day is a weekend day from the 26th to the 1st.”

You actually hadn’t seen Rooster since Christmas.

You’d decided to spend the holiday in San Diego since your parents had decided this was the year they were finally going to check out the Christmas markets in Europe like they’ve always wanted too. And you didn’t want to crash your brother’s first Christmas as a dad, instead you’d sent the most obnoxious baby toy you could find online in addition to a silky soft stuffed rabbit with your niece’s name embroidered on the ear.

When you opened the front door with the pretty stained glass sailing boat picture window, you’d been surprised to see Bradley standing there with a white faux fur trimmed Santa hat and holding a bag with unexpectedly well wrapped presents in one hand and a creamy, cranberry-colored pie in the other.

Your hand stayed glued to the doorknob as his eyes trailed over you. The house had been warm but a shiver still worked its way through your body as he took in your festive pajamas.

Before he could say anything Amelia ever-so-helpfully pointed out the mistletoe you’d conveniently forgotten about that had been hung above the wood door. Frankly, she sounded a bit too enthusiastic about it.

He mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like little punk, although his tone was so affectionate that you thought you must have misheard him. But you didn’t get to think on it for too long because then he was leaning in, in, in.

Your heart shot straight into your throat at the first prickle of his mustache and then the slightly dry lips as they brushed against your cheek for the briefest of moments.

And then he pulled away all too soon.

Friend. Friend. Friend. You tried to remind yourself, but your heart was too aflutter to get the message.

He looked you straight in the eyes as he stepped back, “Can you do me a favor, Bee?”

You must have made a sound that was close enough to an mhm, because then he passed you the bag of presents and the pie waiting only long enough to make sure you had a good hold on them both before darting around you to chase after Amelia.

Amelia squealed when Bradley caught her, ducking his head down to drop a playfully chaotic kiss on her cheek.

He ended up giving Penny and Mav the same treatment too. Although Pete shoved him away good-naturedly when he tried to plant a particularly sloppy one on him.

All while your feet stayed glued to the same spot they were when he kissed you.

But that was six days ago. Probably the longest stint without seeing him since you collided with him that afternoon a few months ago.

The smell of strong coffee and cinnamon had coaxed you back into the moment, and you’d shook your head a bit like that would help you clear your mind with Bradley standing so close to you again.

“I don’t think it’ll take us too long,” you declared, trying to get focused back on the task at hand- that being the unofficial head of the NYE decorating committee, “I even made us a schedule.”

“Of course you did. Is it color-coded?” he asked over the rim of the chipped mug.

“And if it is?” you countered, unashamed of your planning. And then there was that damn smile of his.

“Then I’m really going to need this coffee,” he winked, and poured you a cup of your own.

You’d been right though. With everyone pitching in things came together rather quickly.

The morning moving steadily as the Christmas decorations were replaced with classic the gold and white and black color scheme you’d went with for the party. The silver tinsel tree covered in beach themed shaped ornaments with a few planes hung about by the front door might have stood out at odds with everything else, but metallic was a neutral in your book so you’d opted to keep the cheerful tree up just a little bit longer and tucked a few party blowers into the branches to tie it in with the rest of the space.

It was easy for you to get in the zone, delegating and divvying up the tasks on your color-coded schedule, putting all your project tracking skills to use. There were dozens of strands of string lights that had to gone up on the ceiling and along the walls. All of the windows with the snowflake cut outs you and Amelia had made for Christmas were framed in a metallic fringe. There was a station with hats and headbands and glasses in case anyone was feeling particularly festive. The tables and booths had been stocked with noise makers and confetti poppers in addition to the mirrorball centerpieces and confetti scatter.

Everything sparkled and shined, the light bouncing off everything gave the bar a wonderfully hazy glow, it was the perfect ambiance for the most hopeful night of the year.

At one point, you’d been working on hanging up some dangling golden stars from one of the ceramic mug rounders only to find Bradley standing there at the base of the ladder behind you with a well-defined arm stretched out just in case you lost balance.

And then just like that, your focus went out the window. Because then he was everywhere. He made it impossible for you to not notice him, especially since so many of your jobs and his overlapped, something you’d come to regret more and more as the hours went by.

You’d been working on tying off balloons and lamenting the fact you didn’t order another pump with the tying tool, when you’d decided to take a break to massage your numb fingertips. You looked up to check the progress made with fresh eyes, to see Rooster on a ladder helping Mav to get the netting set up for the balloon drop.

The athletic shorts he’d been wearing were hanging low on his hips. And as he reached up to hand Pete another nail it caused his t-shirt to ride up giving you a glimpse of toned stomach and tantalizing v-lines. It was just as tempting as it was taunting.

You’d switched to ice water after that.

The image was seared into your mind for the rest of the afternoon. Not even the freezing cold shower you’d hopped into the second you made it back to your loft to freshen up before the party had helped. Neither had the rushed orgasm to take the edge off, because it wasn’t your own fingers that you wanted.

He’d found you before the party well and truly started.

You’d been double checking all the prep, making sure you had the bar stocked up as was possible without losing any valuable space, when you felt a hand on your back. Bradley was dressed up in a navy suit that fit him in all the right places, looking more handsome than you knew possible. All broad shoulders and thick thighs. The top button of his pristinely pressed white shirt undone, giving you a peek at the divot base of his throat.

You weren’t sure what made you more flustered, that hint of his neck or the skin under his bellybutton that you’d seen only a couple hours ago.

A soft smile coasted over his face as he took in your New Years’ Eve finest. “You look-”

“I know, rhinestones for New Years’ Eve, how groundbreaking,” you joked, cutting him off and giving your best Miranda Priestly impression.

You were wearing a black velvet jumpsuit for the party. You loved the way it fit the curves of your body and the way the halter top made your collarbones and shoulders look. There was just a hint of skin with the keyhole near the bust. But it was also practical- right down to your plain black no-show panties you had on- so you could move easily without worrying about giving anyone an eyeful. It wasn’t the flashiest of outfits, there’d be more than enough sequins later on, but the way Bradley was looking at you made it feel like your off the rack might as well be haute couture.

“I was going to say, you look good. Really good.” Bradley takes his time letting his eyes drag down your body, his cheek kicking up when he lands on your shoes. “I especially like the birks, they tie the whole look together.”

The clogs you were wearing were decidedly unsexy, not many people could pull of the potato shoe, but you weren’t there as a party guest, you still had work to do and your night was just getting started. “I don’t think stilettos and stouts would mix together very well,” you said by way of explanation.

Bradley chuckled and reached out taking an end of the little rhinestone bow that dangled from right beneath your neck where the straps met and twirled it between his fingers for a moment. “I think this might be my favorite part though,” he rasps lowly. There was an intensity in his eyes directed at you that you hadn’t seen before.

For a moment it looked like he was about to say more, and then a glass shattered.

The sound of it caused you to crash back into your body.

“And so it begins,” you announced, taking a half step backwards and out of his touch, that rhinestone cord falling back against your sternum with a gentle thud that you felt reverberate in your chest.

You heard him say your name, but you were already setting off for a broom.

So you’d kept your head down and your hands busy.

It felt like for every drink you made, two more were ordered. Barely noticing as the final minutes of this year flew by while you garnished drinks with bright cherries and slices of lemon with a flourish before handing them off.

Offering smiles and well wishes to those here to celebrate. True to your namesake as you swiped cards and counted bills and mixed and poured and served the drinks to the ever-rotating people in front of you.

You made eye contact with Rooster a couple times throughout the night, the same way you usually did when you were behind the bar and he was there. Eyes drawn to him like a magnet against your will.

He hadn’t come up to you at all since before the party started. You’d seen him with the Daggers when you went to refill the water tank, heard the keys of the upright piano when you grabbed more ice from the back room, saw him talking with the girl in the shiny dress and her interested eyes as you put the freshly washed glasses away.

Just like he’d been the best parts of your San Diego summers, he’d become the best part of your year.

You’d spent the last four months trying to convince yourself that it was a silly crush, that you could will it away or get over it. But now just a couple moments shy of a new year barreling towards you, it was time to face the fact that Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t someone you were ever going to get over.

Although if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t sure you wanted to get over him.

You’re giving the counter a quick wipe down, taking advantage of the brief lull when the music cuts off, startling you out of your thoughts.

Twelve!

The countdown had snuck up on you. Just like everything else had this year.

Eleven!

You’d had your fill of unexpected surprises, some for the worse and some for the better. While it felt like you’d had more downs than ups, you were ending the year feeling the most content you have since you were laid off. And that was more than good enough for you.

Ten!

At the beginning of this year, you never would have guessed that you’d end it in San Diego. This year had taken from you, but it had also given you a lot. New friends, new places to explore, new memories, new hopes.

Nine!

You were still figuring things out and that was ok. Even though you still weren’t sure what was next for you, you knew everything would work out. One way or another you’d find yourself on the other side of this and able to look back with pride for making it through all the challenges that had been thrown your way.

Eight!

And while things didn’t shape out the way you anticipated them to, with goals still yet to be achieved and a vision board of ideas that you’d carry into the new year, you had so much to be grateful for.

Seven!

You liked San Diego- and not in the just-for-now way. You liked the life you were building here. You liked the beach and the sand and the sun. You liked you Sunday dinners with Penny and Amelia and Pete. You liked the people you were surrounded by. You liked the stories you’ve collected from your side of the bar. You liked the diner down the road with their perfectly shaped coffee cups. You liked your new normal while you got your feet back under you. You liked the potential you felt was here.

Six!

And then there was Bradley.

Five!

You were avoiding looking in his direction, too worried about what you might see, not wanting to end this year with another disappointment. You’ve come to accept that he had a piece of you that you weren’t sure you were ever going to get back. But that was something for you to deal with next year.

Four!

For now, you are right where you are supposed to be.

Three!

Because what is meant for you will never pass you by. Not in life and not in love. And that was something you could count on, something you could hold onto.

Two!

You smile to yourself and close your eyes.

The crowd chants One!

You breathe out and let go.

And when the cheers of Happy New Year! ring out, you breathe in and open your heart up to all the possibilities.

Enjoying the moment for what it was- exactly as it was- as the party noise makers started going off all around you.

As New Years’ kisses were traded.

As people greeted a fresh, bright New Year with wide-open and welcoming arms.

Where anything could happen.

Where anything was possible because the year was waiting to written.

You tip your head back and open your eyes, watching as the balloons you’d spent the afternoon tying knots in started to fall, slowly at first and then more until your view was a cocoon of black and gold and white and clear blocking out the rest of the world from view.

Time seemed to slow a bit as the confetti poppers joined the mix adding to the echo of fireworks going off nearby. The glints of gold and little shiny dots of sparkles and streamers seemed to hang in the air. There was a cacophony of cheerful noises, from the poppers to the people to the familiar sound of Whitney Houston being piped over the static-y speakers.

A moment of magic for you and you alone, as you pocketed the hope and optimism you felt rippling around you.

Over the next couple of hours pass just as swiftly as before. As you got back into the groove of serving people, your brain snagged on the sound of Aud Land Syne being played on the upright piano at the other end of the bar, and the only person it could be playing it.

It wasn’t long before people steadily started to trickle out the front door.

You’d made sure to shoo Penny out to the dance floor with Pete as the lineup of people slowed down enough for her to have some New Years Eve fun.

No one had gone too crazy, but even so, you helped arranged people rides to get home safe between closing out tabs and announcing the last call for the few people who wanted to stick it out until the very end. Waving to your new friends as they all slowly but surely made their exits.

You’d lost track of Rooster along the way, it would have been nice to wish him a Happy New Year, but it was probably for the best. It was easier on your heart to not know whether he left with some of the Daggers or with the girl with the silver sequins.

You just locked the door after the last couple stragglers had left for the night. You’d sent Penny away a little over a half an hour ago- along with Mav- since there’d been only a handful of people to look after.

She’d made you promise not to stay behind after locking up, but you didn’t see the harm in tidying things up a bit more. You were collecting the empty glasses that had been scattered about and abandoned on window ledges and tables when you caught a figure out of the corner of your eye, nearly causing you to drop the bus tub you were holding on to.

“Bradley! Jesus.” You set the plastic tub down on a table with more force than necessary, the glasses rattling against each other, and press a hand to your chest where your heart is rapidly knocking about. “What are you still doing here?”

You figured he left already, so you’re more than a little surprised he’s still here. And not just because he startled you half to death.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, putting his hands up. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, I was taking out some trash and then got held up talking to Jake for a few minutes. I didn’t realize everyone else had left.”

“I just locked the front doors,” you say, waving towards the now closed front door.

Bradley takes a cautious step closer. “So, it’s just us then?” He doesn’t even have the decency to look like he’s been partying for the better part of five hours, he looks just as handsome as he did at the start of the evening, whereas you’re sure you probably look as ruffled as you felt.

“We’re the last two standing,” you confirm, putting your hands on your lower back to stretch out the tightness that had settled along your spine over the course of the night, “But just barely, on my end.”

“You’ve been busy tonight.” You hum in agreement and reach for a foam-covered glass that was left between the coaster holder and napkin dispensers. His big hand closing around it first and he pins you with a look, leaning a hip against the table, “So tell me, why are you still cleaning when you and I both know for a fact Penny hired a crew to take care of this in the morning?”

You don’t have an answer for him, at least, not one you were willing to share. That even though the ball had dropped and the confetti had fallen you weren’t ready to have the night be over yet. Knowing that the moment you locked up for good and got in your car and headed home, that the bottle of champagne you’d bought for yourself and plans with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal wouldn’t hit quite the way you’d hope it would.

Instead, you offer him a shrug.

Bradley’s eyes search yours for a moment before he gives you a gentle smile. “C’mon, busy bee, I think you’ve more than earned yourself a glass of champagne.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, already making his way towards the bar, not that you put up much of a fight. The ‘Greatest Hits’ playlist that Penny had queued up for the night is still playing in the background, you recognize opening notes of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” as you trail after him.

You lift an eyebrow as he pulls out a stool for you, but he just mirrors you by lifting one of his own and gestures to the seat. You think you feel his thumb sweep over your hip as he helps you into the stool before stepping into the front bar. A little sigh of relief slips out of you, finally off your feet for the first time all night.

You’re tired, but it’s a happy kind of tired. You’d had a nice time all things considering. Seeing the bright faces of everyone tonight had made all the work you’d put in feel worth it, all the planning and prep and decorating made it worth it if tonight ended up being a fond memory for someone.

Bradley grins at you from over his shoulder mischievously, “You know, Penny’s never let me behind the bar before.” He says it so conspiratorially, like he’s getting away with something and you’re an eyewitness to his delinquency, as if he wasn’t a decorated golden boy of the United States Navy.  

You laugh, endeared by the boyish smile on his face. “Probably because you’re never wearing the right shoes,” you tease, wiggling a clog towards him.

And he chuckles, warm and affectionate.

Rooster finds the freshly washed glasses easily- Pete had done a great job as the designated dishwasher of the evening, loading and unloading glasses as quickly as they came with speedy efficiency. You see as his hand hesitates for a moment eyeing the already open bottle of champagne on the counter warily, and you point a glossy cranberry coated fingernail to the fridge under the counter, where you knew a few uncorked ones were still stocked knowing that Penny won’t mind if you pilfer a celebratory bottle to share between yourselves.

With your help he finds the chilled bottle and shoots the cork across the room with a cheerful pop! You make a mental note to pick it up later marking the spot in your mind, which he must notice because he says, knowingly, “Don’t worry, I’ll grab it later. You’re officially off the clock.”

He pours you a glass and then one for himself with a flourish, clearly showing off as the bubbles fizz to the top of the rim without spilling over. You’ve spent all night catering to everyone else, it’s nice to have someone looking out for you now.

Rooster holds out a glass for you, “Cheers, Bee.”

You smile and clink yours against his.

The bubbles burst across your tongue, refreshing and crisp. The two of you sip on your glasses of champagne in companionable silence for a few moments, enjoying the calm after a busy day and busier night.

“Did you have a nice time tonight, Bradley?”

“It was nice enough, I guess,” he says, giving you a half smile, “I’m having a much better time now though.”

You take another little sip, attributing the fluttering in your chest to the bubbles.

“It feels weird to be sitting on this side of the bar,” you muse, changing the subject, “You know, I don’t think I made you a drink at all tonight.”

He takes the bottle and pours you a little more. “People kept hogging my favorite bartender.”

You grin into your glass.

“I would have made time for you,” you say.

He leans down and fold his arms in front of him, so that your faces are level. “You would have?”

The answer comes easily. “Of course.”

Bradley gives you a look you don’t know how to interpret, like reading your face isn’t enough that he wants to know what’s going on inside of your head. You always kind of thought your cards had been on the table the whole time, but maybe you’d been keeping them closer to your chest than you’d realized.

“It was nice of you to make sure Penny and Mav got out on the dancefloor earlier.”

“You saw that?” It hadn’t been an easy feat, but it had been worth it to see them looking at each other in a way you hoped you’d find someday.

His gaze is steady when he replies, “I did.”

Flustered now, you feel your cheeks heat up. “Amelia and I had a bet about if he was going to propose tonight, and I thought I’d do my part to try and help her win twenty dollars. I didn’t think he would, at least not here in front of a crowd of people, but I hope he’ll do it soon.”

He nods, taking a sip of his own, the tips of his ears getting red.

You lean forward on your elbows, “Tell me what you know, Bradshaw.”

“I’m a vault,” he says, shaking his head.

“Does he have a ring?” you ask, elatedly.

Bradley takes another deep sip of champagne, giving you nothing, at least not with his words. But you don’t need him to confirm, not with the way his lips are turned up, clearly happy for his uncle and your aunt.

Good, you smile to yourself, that’s good.

“I also happened to notice that you didn’t get to dance at all tonight.”

“No, I didn’t.” You could have. Penny had tried to get you to take a few minutes to enjoy yourself, but you kept finding excuses to stay planted where you were. “There’s always next year,” you add, circling your finger around the base of your champagne glass.

Bradley steps out from behind the bar and takes the half full glass from your hand, setting it on top of a coaster in a move that you find entirely too appealing.  And holds out a hand out for you, “We should fix that.”

His large fingers wrap around your hand- strong and sure- as he guides you towards the old jukebox, the two of you walking over the confetti covered floor and though the sea of balloons that bobbed in your wake.

He lets go when the two of you have reached the middle of the makeshift dancefloor that had been cleared of the tables that were normally there for the night. Your feet stay put as he makes his way to the sticker covered jukebox and starts flipping through the options.

“I keep trying to get Penny to get a new one that takes a card,” you say nervously, filling the quiet, the air now charged with something new between the two of you. “Or one with an app, where people could pay and pick things from their phone.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” he teases playfully, still scanning through the CDs, clearly on a mission to find a particular song.

“She keeps a couple spare quarters on the ledge behind it- but uhm- I’m not sure if they’re still there or not, or if people have already used them. I could grab some from the register-”

You take a half step back, but Rooster stops you.

“Don’t go flying away, Bee.” He pulls out his wallet from the inside of his suit jacket and fishes out a couple coins, holding them out on his flattened palm for you to see. “You see, I’ve been saving these ones for just the right girl.”

You didn’t know your heart could beat so fast.

Bradley slips them into the machine with a metallic plink, once and then twice. The corner of his mouth pulls up as his eyes drift over you. “Yeah, you’re definitely an N24 kind of girl.”

He punches in the code and walks purposefully back to you.

The gentle sound of an acoustic guitar crackles to life over the old speaker system of the Hard Deck, the song much slower than you were anticipating. The opening notes are familiar ones to you, but different than what you were used to hearing. This rendition was delicate and atmospheric. Intimate. Almost like the music was wearing its heart on its sleeve.

Bradley wraps an arm around you and pulls you in. His eyes are heavy on yours, you feel the weight of them everywhere. He coaxes your hand onto his broad shoulder and takes the other one in his, drawing it to his chest.

He holds you close as he leads you in a dance.

No one has ever looked at you the way he is looking at you.

“Ask me about my night again,” he murmurs, invitingly.

You swallow. “Did you have a nice time earlier tonight?”

“No.” Your breath stutters in your chest and you miss a step, but he easily guides you through it. “No,” he repeats, “I didn’t because I couldn’t spend it with the only person I want to.”

Your voice has escaped you, not that you’d trust it not to completely give you away.

“This is the part where you ask me how it’s going now.” He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, encouragingly.

“This doesn’t feel very friendly,” you whisper.

Bradley presses you even closer to him. Every part of you is touching him, and you’re warm everywhere. “That’s good,” he rasps, “Because I’m not really going for just ‘friendly’ here, honey.”

You see everything there plain as day, written all over his face.

All you can say is his name.

“Bradley.”

And he says yours in return, so gently like it’s precious to him.

“I kept hoping you’d look my way during the countdown. But then you looked so thoughtful and all I wanted was to see that moment through your eyes. I couldn’t look away, you’re so beautiful.”

Feeling brave, you slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, combing your fingers through the short hair at the base of his head. He hums, pleased and content.

“You didn’t get a New Years Eve kiss.” It’s a statement. Like he knows because he was paying attention.

Your stomach swoops, and it’s like you’re fifteen and riding the Giant Dipper again.

“Neither did you, it seems.” His eyes drop down to your mouth.

“No, I didn’t,” he confirms, raising a hand up and skimming his thumb along your lower lip. “But now I’ve got a whole year to practice.

Bradley brings both hands to cup your face. His eyes traveling from your eyes to your nose to your mouth, a soft smile on his face as he leans in to kiss you.

When his lips meet yours it’s like time stops. You can’t hear the music over the rushing in your ears or the beating of your heart. In that moment, all there is only Bradley.

There’s no hesitation in the way his mouth moves against yours. Or in the way his teeth grazes your lower lip, right before he follows it with his tongue. It’s as if he has played this moment in his head so many times before.

Like there was never a question in his mind about if it was ever going to happen, but when.

There’s a surety in his touch, in the way he cradles your face in his big hands, in the way he angles your head just right.

The way Bradley kisses you makes you feel like this is the moment he’s been waiting for the whole night.

That it’s the moment he’s been waiting the last four months for.

His kiss is sweet like cinnamon and you know you’ll never be the same now that you’ve had a taste of it.

Your first one of the year. And it belongs to Bradley Bradshaw. Just as you always hoped it would be.

He pulls away just enough to skim his lips teasingly against yours. “Happy New Year, Bee.”

“Happy New Year, Bradley.”

You grin and he dips back down to kiss you again.

Time ticks on, but this time there isn’t a countdown. Only his mouth against yours and your arms wrapped around his neck.

After a while, he pulls away again, looking entirely and thoroughly kissed. It’s a good look for him.

He smiles at you. “My mom used to believe in ‘beginning as you mean to go on’. Taking time on the first of a new year and doing something that you want to make a part of your year going forward,” he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “So if you’re up for it, honey, I’d like to take you out to breakfast at that 24-hour diner. Because I mean to go on with you this year and the next one after that if I’m lucky.”

“I’d like that,” you say, taking a snapshot of this moment and the way those warm, brown eyes are gazing at you. “Just as long as we leave some time for mine. I have an idea of how I’d like to ‘begin as I mean to go on’.”

“Yeah? What did you have in mind?”

You don’t answer, instead you just lean in close until you feel his smile pressed against your.

The two of you eventually lock up for the night, for good this time. But only after Bradley finally stops kissing you long enough to grab that cork he’d shot across the bar earlier, pretending not to see the way he tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket.

He takes your hand in his warm one, his fingers slipping easily between yours like he’s done it hundreds of times before.

The sunrise is still a couple of hours away, but you can see the promise of dawn and all the possibilities it’ll bring.

Bradley turns his head back to look at you and grins, it’s wide enough that the corners of his eyes crinkle.

A new day, a new year.

And you can’t help but think that this really will be the best one yet.

Happy 2025, tgm friends! I hope this is your year! Thank you for reading!

And a big thank you to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse) for all the support and encouragement and general woogirling over Bradley Bradshaw!

If you want to know what song Bradley played for Bee 🥰

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Sugar & Spicy Books Chapter 1

Summary:  Y/N is an accomplished writer who is newly divorced, and out of fear of the unknown, moves back to her small hometown she swore she’d never come back to.  She comes across her best friend that never left, who helps her out of a tough spot.  Will old feelings arise?  Or is she just too big for such a small place now?

Warnings:  language, smut

Next chapter

“And with all that said, you are now officially divorced,” the judge announced.

Y/N sighed heavily, closing her eyes.  The relief that flooded through her made her feel like she was floating, her heart soaring at the freedom it felt.  She opened her eyes and smiled as she stood and hugged her divorce lawyer, then started gathering her things.

“I guess that’s it,” Raphael, her now ex-husband, said as he sidled up to her.

“That’s it,” Y/N nodded, barely sparing him a glance.

“So um…everything is set up for you at the house.  All my things are out, and I got your car detailed as a, you know, sign of no ill will–”

“Raf, it’s okay if we don’t speak.  I’d rather we never spoke again,” Y/N said, finally facing him.  They looked each other over one last time before Y/N gave him a small smile.  “Goodbye,” she nodded at him, then walked out of the courtroom.

***

New York City felt too big.  The house was too big.  The car was too big.  Y/N felt like she was shrinking inside herself as she walked the too-quiet rooms of the brownstone.  She and Raf had never had any children, although he had pushed her many times over the years, sometimes too far.  But Y/N had been focused on her writing career, and not having children had made the divorce so much easier.  

“Y/N Y/L/N?  Oh my god it’s really you!  Can I get an autograph?” A woman approached her in the supermarket, smiling widely and slightly jumping as she rushed up to Y/N.

“Oh, um, yes,” Y/N stammered, taking the notebook and pen the woman shoved in her face and signing it.

“Could I get a picture?  The girls in my book club won’t believe it!”

“Sure,” Y/N smiled tightly, then tried to look pleasant as the woman wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in too close, smiling up at the phone raised high in her hand.

“Oh thank you!”  

Y/N managed to slink away from the awkward conversation that was about to ensue and quickly finished her shopping before running back home.  Her career had been successful, earning the top spot three times on the New York Times Best Sellers list, as well as book tours, big sequel book deals, and she was even in talks for one of her first books to become a movie.  The books were what would be considered “spicy” or “dark romance.”  She had no experience in actually having any spicy or dark romance in her real life.  Raf had been extremely simple in the bedroom, and part of their divorce stemmed from his insecurity about her stories.  

Six weeks after her divorce she had had enough.  She sold the brownstone, everything of value in it, the fancy car, and bought the car of her dreams:  a 1967 Volkswagen Beetle.  It was something she had always wanted, but seemed impractical or Raf would always talk her out of it.  She loaded what little she had left into the little light blue car and headed to Woodstock, Vermont.

Y/N had grown up in Woodstock.  It was a very small but scenic town that thrived mostly on tourism because of its quaint, old America charm, and access to nearby hills that made for great snow sports.  When she was 18 she had earned a full ride scholarship to NYU and had run from it as fast as she could.  It was just too small, too stifling, but now as she was dealing with how big the world felt after her divorce, she ran back home in fear and trepidation of what to do next.  

As she reached the city limits she heard the Beetle make a strange puttering sound.  “Oh no, come on, B!” she groaned as the car started to shake and struggle.  “So much for ‘it’s in tip top condition,’” she griped, pulling off the main street in town toward the first mechanic shop she saw.  The Beetle sputtered to a stop and let out a high pitched whine as she turned off the engine.  She sighed and got out of the car, kicking the tire before heading towards the shop door.  A bell tinkled when she swung it open and she looked around at the shop’s front desk and waiting area.  It was small, utilitarian, and very tidy.  In the corner she was surprised to see a small play area for children that had a number of children’s books, a small table and chair, some coloring books and coloring pencils, and a little tea set on the table.

She smiled at the set up and walked over to the front desk.  There was no one there and she looked around until she saw a doorbell button on the side of the desk with a small note taped to the desk countertop that read, “Press for Service.”  Y/N pressed it and heard a doorbell ring noise from the shop behind the door beyond the desk.

“Coming!” she heard a male voice yell.

Y/N waited, looking around the room again until the door swung open.  “Hey there, sorry I was working on something, what can I–”  Y/N gasped when she saw who it was, and his wide eyes and open mouth matched hers.  “Y/N?” he whispered.

“Bucky?” she whispered back.

Bucky’s shocked expression quickly changed into one of excitement as he smiled widely and threw his dirtied rag that he was holding on the desk.  “No fucking way!” he yelled, rounding the desk and reaching out for her.  Y/N gladly accepted the hug, giggling when he picked her up and swung her around as he held her tight.  

“My God, Buck,” Y/N huffed when he set her down.  “You look so grown!”

“Well, it has been, what…14 years since I last saw you?” Bucky said, looking at her with a disapproving but teasing look.  “You look great.”

“Oh, thank you.  So do you,” Y/N blushed.  “So, you work here now?”

“I own this,” Bucky said, gesturing to the shop.

“Oh!  That’s amazing!”  Y/N said happily.  

“Yeah, old man Pierce finally died and I took over it,” Bucky explained, smiling at the waiting room.  “But hey, you’re a big writer in New York, right?  I read your books.”

“Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t!” Y/N said with wide eyes.

“I did,” Bucky arched his eyebrows at her.  “Very spicy stuff there, Y/L/N.”

Y/N hung her head in her hands, making Bucky laugh.  “I want to die,” she whined.

“It’s okay, honey, they were spicy but good!” he reassured her, squeezing her arms.  “I liked them.  Especially that one about the uh, what was it, the mafia one?”

“Fucking hell,” Y/N shook her head, trying to hide her blush.  “I know it sounds stupid, but you just never really think about people you grew up with reading your stuff?”

Bucky’s head fell back as he laughed.  “Well, you’ve got a little fan club here in town,” he said.  

“How embarrassing,” Y/N laughed.

Bucky stared at her for a minute.  “Sorry, I just can’t believe you’re here…why are you here?” he asked with a frown.

“Well, uh, right now I’m here because my car broke down as I drove in,” she said, pointing to the Beetle outside.

Bucky turned and looked at the car, then looked back at her with a smile.  “Got that Beetle you always wanted, huh?”

“Well, just recently, but yeah,” Y/N smiled, appreciating how he remembered how much she loved old Beetles.

“Well you came to the best mechanic in town,” he smirked.  “Let me take a look.”  She handed him her keys and followed him out to the car.  Bucky popped the back and looked over the engine for a minute before sighing.  “Yeah, looks like these belts need replacing,” he said, pointing at something that Y/N didn’t understand.  “I’ll have to order them, or maybe dig around and see if I can find any nearby.  It’ll probably take me a while,” he grimaced as he looked at her.

“I got nowhere to be,” Y/N shrugged.  “So I’m happy to wait.”

“Great,” Bucky nodded, shutting the door.  He pushed the Beetle into the garage and started making calls as Y/N sat in the waiting room.  After twenty minutes he came in with another grimace on his face.  “So, um…those specific belts won’t be delivered here for about three weeks.”

“That’s okay,” Y/N said quickly, shaking her head.  “Like I said, I got nowhere to be.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes.  “Don’t you have a husband to get back to?”

Y/N sighed and shook her head again, looking away.  “No, not anymore.”

Bucky froze for a moment before stepping forward and grabbing one of the other chairs, setting it in front of her so he could sit facing her.  “Wanna talk about it?” he asked gently.

Y/N snorted.  “What do you wanna know?”

“Everything,” he replied.

Y/N smiled.  “Um…well, I was married to a very successful luxury home realtor,” she began, looking at her hands wringing in her lap.  Her naked left ring finger still had an imprint from her old ring on her skin.  “His name was Raphael.  I called him Raf.”  Bucky nodded, listening intently.  “He was…kind.  Funny.  Very ambitious, which I liked at the time.  But when my writing took off he became insecure, especially when I started out-earning him, and he felt emasculated by the stories I wrote.”

“Emasculated?” Bucky scoffed.  “Why?  He couldn’t get it up?”

Y/N laughed, Bucky joining her.  “No, he was just very…vanilla, compared to what I wrote,” she explained, making Bucky nod in understanding.  “Which I never minded, but he took some kind of weird offense to it and thought I expected too much of him in that department.”

“Idiot,” Bucky shook his head.

Y/N shrugged.  “We had a few issues over the years.  I was focused on my career, and he wanted me to have babies.  There were a few times he, uh,” she looked away again, crossing her arms over her chest.  “He was pushy about it.  We never could get over it.”

“What do you mean, ‘pushy’?” Bucky frowned, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

Y/N shrugged again, glancing at him.  “It’s not a big deal, Buck.”  He gave her an unimpressed look.  “He…he tried to force me, a couple of times,” she said quietly, swallowing harshly.  “Tampered with my birth control.”

Bucky’s frown deepened, a sharp huff blowing through his nose.  His jaw ticked and he looked at his hands.  He reached forward for her hands, and she met him halfway.  He studied her hands, his right thumb gliding over her empty ring finger.  “I’m sorry, honey,” he said quietly, finally looking back up at her.  “You didn’t deserve that.  I’m glad you got out.”  

Y/N stared at his intense eyes.  He’d always had a way of looking straight into her soul with those eyes, the bright blue stunning her every time.  He was an incredibly cute teenager, and seeing him as a full grown adult now, with some patches of silver dotting his beard on his chin, the fine lines deepened in the corners of his eyes, he was even more handsome.  Bucky had been her number one when they were kids, he and his family taking her in when her parents were negligent and uncaring.  Even though they had only ever been friends, he’d been her first kiss before she left for college.  It was like their final farewell before she went off to bigger and better things, while he stayed home, unable to get scholarships or have enough money to go anywhere but a trade school.  They had lost touch, but she always thought of him and how he was doing.

“Thanks…Sugar,” she winked at him.

Bucky’s eyes widened before a wide smile spread across his face again and he hung his head as she laughed.  “Man, you’re never going to let that go, are you?” he groaned.

“Nope,” Y/N shook her head.  She squeezed his hands.  “But seriously, thank you.”

“I hope you got everything out of him in the divorce,” Bucky said, letting go of her hands and sitting back in the chair.  

“I did very well,” Y/N nodded.  “I had a great lawyer.  And it was helpful that he wasn’t very good at hiding his affair.”

“Affair?” Bucky scoffed.  “That fucker cheated on you?”

“Well, who else was he going to get babies from, Buck?” Y/N asked teasingly, raising her eyebrows.

Bucky rubbed his face harshly.  “Asshole.”

“Tell me about it,” she grimaced.  “But basically, I got to keep all my book earnings, and since we were married for a while and he out-earned me those first few years, I’ll be getting alimony.  And I sold almost everything before I drove here, so I should be set for a while.”

“Good,” Bucky smirked.  “But why come back here to Woodstock of all places?”

Y/N stared at him.  “I actually don’t know,” she frowned.  “New York just suddenly felt…too big.”  

Bucky watched her for a moment.  “Do you have a place to stay?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head.  “Is the hotel on Idalia still there?”

Bucky frowned.  “Yeah, but it’s still a shithole.  You’re not staying there.”  Y/N sighed.  “You can stay with me,” he offered.

“Oh, no Buck that’s okay, I don’t wanna intrude–”

“You won’t be.”

“What about…do you have a girlfriend...wife?”

“Nope,” he shook his head.  “But I do have a daughter.”

Y/N’s mouth dropped open in shock.  “A daughter?”  He smiled and nodded.  “Oh my god!”  Y/N smiled widely.  “Is that what this is for?” she asked, gesturing to the play area in the waiting room.

“Yep,” Bucky nodded.  “Though she’s far too big for tea sets now.”

“How old is she?  What’s her name?  Wait, where’s her mom? I’m sorry, is that rude of me to ask?  I’m just curious–”

“Breathe, honey,” Bucky interrupted her.  “Her name is Autumn.  She’s about to turn ten.  Her mom and I met while I was at trade school at a party.  We were both too drunk and irresponsible.  By the time I learned about Autumn her mother was trying to give her away for adoption.  She was Catholic and hid the pregnancy from her family, then tried to get rid of the baby once she was born.”  Y/N frowned.  “I took her and her mom signed away her rights.  Haven’t seen or heard from her since.”

Y/N nodded but her frown stayed.  “I’m sorry, Buck,” she said quietly.

“It’s okay,” he shrugged.  “She’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me.  It was hard, but I wouldn’t change a thing.  My mom has been a huge help.  Speaking of which,” he leaned forward again.  “In exchange for me fixing your car, you can help babysit Autumn until I get off work.  Ma’s getting old and can’t quite keep up with her anymore.”

“You’ll…you’ll fix my car for free, and let me stay with you for the foreseeable future, as long as I watch your daughter?” Y/N scoffed.

“Yep,” Bucky nodded, his smirk returning.  “Best friends help each other out.”

“True,” Y/N smiled.  She contemplated it for a moment.  “Deal,” she said, holding her hand out.

Bucky laughed and took her hand, shaking it firmly.  “Deal,” he said.

[rie-092]

idk what is this but listen—

just imagine ijekiel alpheus, now the head of alpheus dukedom. saw a child, which is you, on the streets. even though he claimed that he already moved on from the princess, now the empress of the empire, there is still this part of him that doesn't.

so, you who had no relationship with the imperial family and your family died because of an accident back then. for some reasons, you had the same eyes as athanasia. and your hair color was similar with ijekiel. so, what did he do? he adopted you as his child!

honestly, ijekiel alpheus was a great dad. this dude has no plan on marrying anyone. and his vassals and lucas and athanasia was practically never stop on telling him to get married. i mean, athanasia was telling that because he doesn't want ijekiel to be alone. while lucas, this little shit, just want to mess up with him and ruin his day. while his vassals just wanted a heir for the alpheus dukedom.

so, why not bring a child from the streets? look, his intentions was clear. he wanted to help you. but the people who saw you with ijekiel thought you were his secret love child or smth like that. like the good ol' manhwa plot, ofc, they spread rumors that the top husband material in the empire wasn't as clean as they expected. does ijekiel cares? ofc, no. this guy was too busy to spoil the hell outta you to make your heart open up to him. i mean, he's your father from now on, so it's normal for a father to spoil his child, right?

but honestly, here's this shitty side of ijekiel that he hides from everyone. this shitty delusional side of him that imagined you as his and athanasia's child. and this side of him became more worse when he brought you with him to the palace. and athanasia, unaware of your jeweled blue eyes behind the contact lenses that you were wearing. thinks that you were really so adorable. so she too, started to spoil you like you were her own child. how adorable, you're like mother and child— of course he was the father— wait, no.

ijekiel always tries his best to calm himself down whenever he sees the sight of you with athanasia. no, this is not right. the empress was already married to that shitty tower master, this is wrong. he should just focus to you— but...

you see, ijekiel never let you meet lucas. even though that guy was practically saying that— "how cold whitey's boy, you're acting like we're not close friends!" when the truth is they are never friends in the first place. besides, he already got athanasia— that's why he will never, as in never give you to him.

but ijekiel was the kind and understanding one. that's why, when you told him you wanted to learn magic. he supported you, he bought you books about magic, he even goes far on asking lucas for help. but you see— ijekiel too can lose his temper.

“ijekiel, where the hell is ( name )?"

that was the first thing that lucas asked as he left your room where he teleported. ijekiel nonchalantly said that you were at his family's villa, after you threw up blood last night because of using too much magic. but boy, lucas was more perceptive than he thought. saying that he should stop spouting bullshits. but ijekiel didn't say anything.

ijekiel was kind— but the truth is he was beginning to lose his mind. he hated the way how you look at lucas the same way you look at him. he hates the way how you and lucas looks more father and child than you and him. he hates the way how you seemed to like lucas praises than his. and the thin thread that left on his patience snapped when you told him how much you idolized lucas.

ahh, that night when he visited you on your new room in the manor. where he put your beloved toys and books, but put a mana restricting chain on your wrists. he couldn't help but to smile. now, it'll be only you and him.

ijekiel was kind, but when someone is threatening his child. he has no choice but to do this, right?

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notes: idk, but I'm really tempted to make unhinged versions of every green flag manhwa men. anyway, happy 2k followerssss! I'm planning on doing an event to celebrate this, and then i'm going to do the 100+ requests in my inbox. ♪⁠┌⁠|⁠∵⁠|⁠┘⁠♪

pls bear with my laziness (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)