#boowrites★

[boobabietch]

You needed me | Paige Bueckers x reader

Warnings: smuttttt, sub!Paige, bottom!Paige, oral (p receiving), fingering (P receiving), no use of Y/N, reader is annoying and it annoys Paige lmao

A/N: Based on this request and honestly I’m such a sucker for sub!Paige and I think this woman needs to be pleased more often!!!! As always English is not my first language so if you find something wrong tell me so I can change it asap, likes, reblogs and comments(!!!) are highly appreciated and my ask box is always open, with nothing else to say, enjoy! Love Sof :))

You could see it from the moment she woke up, Paige was in one of her moods. The kind where every little thing seemed to set her off, and no matter how hard you tried to lighten things up, it only seemed to make her retreat further into herself.

You understood her better than anyone, though.

Knew when to push and when to back off, so you gave her space, letting her have her silence. But now, as the night dragged on, you couldn’t take it anymore. The silence never sat right between you two, not for long.

So, you walked into her room, flopping down next to her without saying a word. Paige didn’t even glance up, just kept scrolling through her phone, her face scrunched up like she was still lost in whatever frustration she’d been holding onto all day. You waited for a minute, feeling the tension between you both.

It was killing you.

“You still mad?” you finally asked, your voice low but teasing.

“Not mad,” she huffed, but you could see the tightness in her jaw, the way her body tensed just from your presence.

“Sure, you’re not,” you muttered, reaching out to brush a stray lock of blonde hair from her face. She glared at you, but it lacked any real heat, more of that leftover irritation than actual anger. You pressed closer, your hand traveling to cup her jaw lightly, feeling her resolve start to crack. “Come on, P. Don’t be like that.”

Her sigh told you everything you needed to know. She was giving in, even if she didn’t want to admit it yet. But for you, that wasn’t enough.

You shifted even closer, hand on her waist, pulling her closer, lips brushing against her neck, soft at first, just enough to make her shiver. “You know you can’t stay mad at me for long,” you whispered, smirking as you felt the slight tremble in her body.

She didn’t respond, but you knew you were wearing her down. Kissing along her jaw, your hands found her thighs, resting there lightly at first, just testing the waters. “You wanna keep being annoyed, or you wanna let me make it better?” you murmured, your voice dropping into that low, raspy tone that always got to her.

Still no answer, but the way her breath hitched, the way her hands twitched, told you everything. You took that as your green light, hands slipping up her thighs, pushing her legs apart as you settled between them, your lips trailing lower, kissing, biting, taking her sports bra off and tossing it aside carelessly, knowing exactly how to push her buttons. Paige let out a shaky breath, and you couldn’t help the smug grin that tugged at your lips.

“I’m sorry for being annoying,” you murmured against her skin, your mouth hovering over her breast. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

She didn’t say anything, but her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you closer, and that was all the permission you needed. You knew exactly what she liked, how to touch her, how to kiss her

How to please her.

And you could feel the tension in her body melting away with each passing second.

Your lips trailed lower, kissing her stomach, your hands working quickly but not too fast, teasing, making her squirm beneath you. By the time you had her shorts off, whatever had her upset was long forgotten. Her head fell back, her eyes half-closed, lost in the moment.

“See,” you murmured, kissing the inside of her thigh, sucking enough to know it’ll leave a mark “you’re already feeling better.”

Paige groaned, her grip on your hair tightening, and you grinned. Even when she was mad or annoyed, she couldn’t hide the way her body reacted to you.

You loved it.

“You can stop being mad at me now,” you teased, pressing soft kisses between her legs, your breath hot against were she needed you the most.

“I wasn’t mad,” she muttered, her voice shaky as your thumb started playing torturously soft with her clit, spreading her folds lightly, but you knew better. She always tried to play tough, but you could read her like a book.

“Mhm, sure,” you hummed, your tongue tracing a slow line along her, feeling her hips jerk in response. You held her down, maintaining control, your hands gripping her thighs with bruising strength as your mouth finally found home on her pussy, licking and sucking like a starved woman.

You sucked and licked her clit before slamming two fingers in her entrance, her grip on your hair tightened at the intrusion.

Her gasps and moans were all you needed to know you were winning. Paige was right on the edge, clenching on your fingers, her body trembling, back arching, hips grinding on you with desperation, breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. When you felt her start to tip over, you pulled back just enough to make her whimper in frustration, she looked down at you with that desperate expression she always had when she wasn’t having what she needed.

“You still mad, babe?” you asked, looking up at her, amusement clear in your voice as you saw the flush on her face, the way she was fighting to keep control.

“Just… shut up,” she breathed, head leaning back to rest on the pillow, too far gone now to care about her earlier mood.

You chuckled but didn’t need to be told twice. You dove back in, this time with no teasing, just pure focus. It only took a few more moments, a few more thrusts with your fingers curled to hit the spot that made her loose her fucking shit, before she was coming undone beneath you, her body tensing, a soft cry of release slipping from her lips.

You slowed down, tracing lazy circles on her clit, easing her through it, kissing her thighs softly as her breathing steadied, her body relaxing completely. After a moment, you crawled back up, kissing her softly, her collarbone, her neck, her jaw, then you kissed her, hands cupping her jaw, her release still present on the taste of your mouth. You pulled back, Paige’s eyes fluttered open, her expression soft, content, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction.

“Better now?” you asked, your thumb caressing her lower lip softly.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re an ass.”

You grinned, leaning in to kiss her again. “I know.”

Requests are Open!

Masterlist

[boobabietch]

Like a prayer | Paige Bueckers x reader

Warnings: porn without plot, oral sex (P receiving), religious themes (not trying to offend anyone)

A/N: just a quick little blurb I thought while listening Like a Prayer from Deadpool and Wolverine lol. English is not my first language so if you see something wrong tell me so I can change it ASAP. Likes, reblogs and comments(!!!) are appreciated, and my ask box is always open, with any other thing to say, enjoy. Love Sof :))

The room was dimly lit, a sanctuary filled with the intoxicating scent of our desire. As I knelt between Paige’s legs, my heart raced with a reverent thrill. While others might kneel in prayer, I found my worship here, in this sacred act of devotion.

With each deliberate lick, I traced the contours of her body, treating her as a divine offering. My tongue explored her most sensitive spots, savoring the taste of her essence as if it were the finest sacramental wine. Every moan that escaped her lips felt like a prayer, a hymn of pleasure that echoed in the sacred space we created together. The sheets beneath us transformed into an altar of devotion, soaking in the evidence of our worship, a growing stain that mirrored the intensity of the moment.

“Please,” she gasped, her voice a desperate plea that ignited a fire within me. “I can’t… I’m-”

But I tightened my grip on her hips, holding her firmly in place with a strength that was both possessive and protective. “You’re not going anywhere,” I whispered against her skin, my breath warm and reverent.

I could feel the weight of the world outside dissipate as I focused entirely on her, my goddess, my lover, my Paige.

I held her hips tightly, anchoring her in place, a divine grip meant to both possess and protect. I couldn’t let her go, not until I’ve tasted every part of her, until her body sings my name like a psalm.

I immersed myself in the rhythm of my devotion, losing myself in the sanctity of the moment. The world outside faded into oblivion as I drank in her essence, the rich sweetness filling my senses and leaving me craving more.

This was my communion, my holy rite, a connection so profound that it transcended the physical, binding us together in a way that felt almost celestial.

The sensation of her legs trembling against my shoulders only deepened my resolve. I quickened my pace, drawing gasps from her that rose to the heavens like a chorus of angels. With each flick of my tongue, each gentle suck, I became a fervent disciple, devoted to bringing her to the brink of ecstasy. I wanted her to see stars, to feel the divine rush of pleasure that came from being utterly consumed by love.

“Please, just a little more,” she breathed, her voice a fragile whisper, heavy with longing and need.

In that moment, I felt like a sinner reveling in forbidden fruit,

Yet it was the purest form of worship I could offer.

I dove deeper, my devotion unwavering, my heart and soul entwined with every movement. This was our sin, our ecstasy, and it felt profoundly holy, as if we were rewriting the very tenets of love itself.

With each wave of pleasure that washed over her, I felt the sacred bond between us grow stronger. I held her in place, guiding her to the edge, my touch both gentle and firm, as if I were a guardian of her pleasure. We were lost in our world, a sanctuary where nothing else mattered but the intoxicating union of our bodies and souls.

In this moment, surrounded by the echoes of her cries and the warmth of our connection, we were not just lovers; we were worshipers, each caress a testament to our faith in each other. This was our holy ground, a place where love and desire converged, making every moment feel like a divine blessing.

Requests are Open!

Masterlist

[boobabietch]

Chapter I: "From College Phenom to WNBA Superstar: The Victoria O’Hara Story" | Diana Taurasi x OC

Warnings: Kinda narcissistic, kinda obsessed Victoria (excuse my girl she just wants to do good)

A/N: first chapter baby let’s fucking goooo, I’m so so excited about this series and I cannot wait for you guys to read it. As always English is not my first language so if you see any mistakes (I wrote this super high so there’s probably some) please let me know so I can change them asap, comments are highly appreciated, please let me know what you think! My ask box is always open too. Love Sof :))

Making headlines masterlist

There’s a funny thing about being a woman in sports, and it’s that being good is not enough.

When I was first drafted to the W, my back was in agonizing pain, breaking under the weight of everyone’s expectations. Having an excellent college career made the country ache with the need to see me play with the big dogs, some rooting for my success, but most of them patiently waiting for my imminent downfall. I struggled; climbing up that fucking hill was hard. But everything became easier once my mind was blinded with rage, and that anger had a name: Diana motherfucking Taurasi.

Growing up she was everything I aspired to be. She made it all look so easy, so effortless, and I wanted that. And the thing is, I’m not an aggressive person, not even a bad one. I bake for my teammates every Friday, I have friends all over the league, little girls want my shoes after the games and their grown fathers want my ass, teenage girls even write about me on Tumblr, for fuck's sake! I am perfectly fine!

Until that fucking game.

May 19, 2017

My rookie season. We faced Phoenix for the first time. The air was thick with anticipation, and I couldn’t shake the feeling in my gut that nobody on that arena came to see me.

There she was.

Diana was there, larger than life, owning the court like she owned the entire damn league. And the truth was, she did.

I knew this moment was coming, but nothing could’ve prepared me for actually standing across from her. She locked eyes with me during warm-ups, her face impassive, like I wasn’t even worth her time. I looked around and every person was the same, nobody really came to see me, not even my team. That’s when I realized that being good at the game it’s not enough, you have to play another type of game if you want people to see you, and I was determined to make them beg for more of me.

That was all it took. I felt something rise inside of me, a mix of insecurity and pure terror, and from that moment, the only thing I wanted more than winning was beating her. Proving her wrong.

And that’s where all the shit unraveled.

It wasn’t just the basketball. It was personal. Every shot I took, every time I drove the lane, I wasn’t just thinking about the score, I was thinking about her. The way she moved. How her voice echoed through the arena when she barked orders to her team. I hated how much I was drawn to it, to her.

My teammates tried to talk me down, “Vico, chill you’re obsessing,” Sydney said. But they didn’t get it. Diana Taurasi was my benchmark, my North Star. My fire, I wanted what she had and in order to get it she was the one to beat. Every game after that I took it as duel, a fight for dominance. I was determined to make her see me, to make her acknowledge that I wasn’t just some rookie passing through, because if she knew that, then everybody would know that I was Victoria fucking O’Hara, and I was coming for the crown, her crown.

And I was doing a hell of a job:

"Rising Star: Victoria O'Hara Leads All Rookies in Scoring and Rebounds"

"WNBA newest princess? O’Hara’s Rookie Season Proves She’s a Force to Be Reckoned With"

"Victoria O’Hara Makes Waves: Record-Breaking Rookie Season Captivates Fans and Analysts"

But it never seemed to be enough, until…

July 7, 2017

It was after another grueling game. We lost by three points, but I played the game of my life. I was exhausted, mentally and physically, slumped on the bench, trying to catch my breath. And someone towered over me.

Someone I was very aware of.

“Not bad, O’Hara. Keep it up, and you might actually be a challenge someday.”

My stomach twisted.

I stared at her for a weirdly amount of time, unsure how to respond. Hell, was she mocking me? Or was this some twisted form of respect?

Before I could think too much, I snapped back:

“Someday? I’m already a problem for you.”

Fuck, that sounded way harsher than I intended.

I saw her look at her shoes, clicking her tongue before staring at me again, a smirk plastered in her face begging to be slapped it out “Of course you are”

And that’s it. She left.

July 30, 2017:

We were playing again, and the tension was unbearable. Everyone could feel it. Diana was all over the place, controlling the game like she always did, like she owned it. But this time? I wasn’t letting her have it. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of thinking she still ran the show. I needed this moment. I needed to prove myself. To her. To everyone.

Then, in the third quarter, it happened.

I saw her coming. Her eyes were locked on me like a damn predator, and I wasn’t backing down. I made a drive, quick and sharp, cutting to the basket with everything I had. I was going to score, but she had other plans. She slammed into me, body on body, knocking me off my path like I was nothing. I hit the floor hard, my elbows burning from the impact. The whistle blew, and I stayed down for a second, rage boiling under my skin.

"Get up," she muttered, standing over me like she owned the place. "You’re gonna need more than that to take me down, rook."

The audacity. I pushed myself up, heart pounding in my chest, glaring straight at her. I was chest to chest with the legend, staring into her eyes, and for the first time, I wasn’t intimidated. I was pissed. “You think you’re untouchable? Just fucking wait.”

She smirked, like she’d heard it all before. Like she didn’t even have to try. "I don’t think, O’Hara. I know," she spat back, her voice dripping with arrogance.

That was it. That was the moment I snapped. "Oh, you’re just a fucking bitch, aren’t you?" The words flew out before I could stop them, and I shoved her, hard.

The arena erupted in chaos.

Before I knew it, she was lunging at me, ready to push me back. But our teammates were faster, grabbing us before we could even make contact. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears, my fists clenched, ready to throw. But the second I tried to break free, I was held back by a wall of arms pulling me away from her.

It took four players to hold me back. Four.

Diana wasn’t any better off. Her teammates were holding her down too, but I could see it in her eyes. She wanted this fight as much as I did. There was fire there, the same fire I felt burning inside me. She wasn’t just here to win; she was here to prove a point. But so was I.

We both struggled against the hands holding us back, trying to break free, trying to get at each other. My muscles ached with the effort of pushing forward, but no matter how hard I fought, it wasn’t happening. I could almost feel the impact of my fist hitting her. The unfinished fight burned inside me, an itch that couldn’t be scratched.

I didn’t give a shit about the cameras or the refs. I didn’t care about the technical they were about to call. All I cared about was making her feel this rage, this fire that she had sparked inside me. I wanted her to know that she wasn’t untouchable. That I wasn’t just another rookie.

Finally, the refs managed to pull us apart, forcing us to opposite sides of the court. My chest heaved with adrenaline, but I wasn’t done. I looked back at her, catching her eyes one more time. That damn smirk still on her face. But I knew she saw me now. I knew she felt it too.

The fight wasn’t over.

That was the moment I realized. Diana Taurasi wasn’t just another player to beat. She was the one. The one I had to take down. And maybe, just maybe, she’d finally met someone who could.

Fucking Diana.

"Rivalry Ignites: O’Hara and Taurasi Get into Fiery Altercation During Friday Game"

San Antonio Stars Victoria O’Hara Adidas Grey and Black Edition Player Jersey | SOLD OUT

Requests are Open!

Massterlist

[boobabietch]

Making headlines masterlist | Diana Taurasi x OC!Victoria O’Hara

Prologue

Chapter 1: "From College Phenom to WNBA Superstar: The Victoria O’Hara Story"

Chapter 2: "A Rookie’s Obsession, A Legend’s Indifference: Is Diana Taurasi ready for Victoria O’Hara?”

Chapter 3: "From ROTY Glory to Post-Season Agony”

Chapter 4: "Victoria O'Hara's Faces Her Toughest Opponent: Her Own Thoughts"

Chapter 5: “Victoria O’Hara Looses Her Fucking Mind. Again!”

Chapter 6: “All-Star Aftermath: O’Hara Wrestles With The Ghost Of Taurasi”

[boobabietch]

Making headlines | Diana Taurasi x OC!Victoria O’Hara

Prologue

Warnings: Big age gap but they are two consenting adults!, OC Victoria O’Hara is used (I’m sorry but y/n was just not working for this lol)

A/N: hellooo, disclaimer before everything please remember English is not my first language so if you find something wrong please let me know so I can change it asap thanksss. I haven’t been as active as I’d like to be but this idea has been on my mind for the longest time now and I needed to make a series about this so so bad, and please don’t hate me for using an oc lmaoo I just hated the way y/n looked. Hope you like this as much is I do!! Love Sof :)

Making headlines masterlist

When people talked about Diana Taurasi and Victoria O’Hara, no one had anything nice to say.

Diana was the mighty golden vet of the WNBA, powerful like no one else. Everybody respected her for who she was and the things she did. She could punch, throw, scream, and cuss because she knew nobody was able to defy her, she knew she was untouchable.

You could say Victoria was also the star of the show. First pick in her draft, multiple records broken in her rookie season, and over her head hung the shiny title of Rookie of the Year. She was fresh meat, new blood, basically the WNBA’s newest golden girl.

Everybody could see they were two sides of the same coin, a very golden, shiny, and pricey coin.

If this industry didn’t thrive on drama they could’ve been friends, maybe even more!

But when people talked about Diana Taurasi and Victoria O’Hara, no one had anything nice to say

"From Trash Talk to Shoving: Taurasi and O’Hara's Bitter Rivalry Continues to Escalate"

"No Love Lost: Taurasi and O’Hara’s Heated Rivalry Turns Physical Once Again"

"Taurasi vs. O’Hara: WNBA’s Bad Blood Rivalry Is the Talk of the Season"

And trust me, there’s more. There’s always more. But the worst part? They never lied. That was purely the truth... wasn’t it?

I don’t know, but I think if you ask Diana and Victoria about it, I think they would like a lot more if you put it this way:

"Is It Really Trash Talk If They’re Just Flirting Aggressively?"

Requests are: Open!

Masterlist

[boobabietch]

Chapter II: "A Rookie’s Obsession, A Legend’s Indifference: Is Diana Taurasi ready for Victoria O’Hara?” | Diana Taurasi x OC

Warnings: fight fight fight!! And a tad bit narcissistic Diana

A/N: I’m having a shitload of fun writing this lmao, so here’s another chapter I hope you like. As always English is not my first language so if you find something wrong tell me so I can change it asap, I can’t wait for y’all to read this and the next chapters I’m so excited. Likes, comments (!!!) and reblogs are highly appreciated and my ask box is always open. Love Sof :))

Making headlines masterlist

There’s a funny thing about being the best in women’s sports. People either love you or wait for you to fall. But when you’ve been around long enough, it doesn’t matter what they think. You know your place. And you protect it.

That’s what I’ve been doing since my debut in the WNBA. Owning the court. Owning the pressure. Every game, every season, everyone expects the same thing from me: perfection. Winning is never enough because when your name is Diana Taurasi, nothing is ever enough.

Then, she showed up.

Victoria O’Hara. The rookie everyone wouldn’t shut up about. Reminded me of me, hungry, talented, a little too much attitude for her own good. The first time I saw her was just before our game against San Antonio. I’d heard her name, knew she had something. But there’s a difference between hype and reality.

May 19, 2017

Game day. I could feel her eyes on me during warm-ups, it was cute honestly, I could see the gears working hard on her mind, probably wondering what it’s like to be me, to dominate the way I have. They all wonder. But what she didn’t know yet is that being good in college doesn’t mean shit here. Welcome to the W, kid.

I didn’t give her a second glance. What was there to say? Another rookie trying to prove something. I’ve seen it all. I’ve been that girl. But this one, this woman, had something extra in her. I could see it the minute the game started. Every time she took a shot, it was like she was aiming at me, if I didn’t know she wanted to rip my throat out I’d say she was in love. Every drive, every step, was a challenge.

I could hear the yelling in the crowd, I’d hear her teammates tell her to relax, feel the energy shift. People loved watching us, golden veteran vs. golden rookie. A fucking classic. O’Hara wanted to make a statement. I could tell she was on the edge, burning herself out just to prove she belonged. And every time, I’d remind her, I’ve been there. I’ve fought harder battles. If she wanted to be the next big thing, she was going to have to earn it. She was good, but I wasn’t worried. I’ve dealt with players like her before. They rise fast, burn out faster. But this one... she kept pushing.

Every game we played after that, it was like she had a personal vendetta. I couldn’t walk on the court without feeling her eyes drilling into me. She was obsessed. It was funny, really. This kid was trying so hard to beat me, to make me see her.

I saw her. I always see them coming.

July 7, 2017

We were in San Antonio. Close game. O’Hara played her heart out, I’ll give her that. But we still won. After the game, I found her slumped on the bench, wiped out. I should’ve just left her there. But something in me couldn’t resist. The kid had fire. I respected that.

“Not bad, O’Hara. Keep it up, and you might actually be a challenge someday.”

Her face said it all. She was rattled, but she had that spark. I liked seeing it. She looked at me like she was trying to figure out if I was serious. I was. Kinda. Then, she shot back:

“Someday? I’m already a problem for you.”

I almost laughed. Her confidence was impressive, misplaced, but impressive. I glanced down, smirked. Let her have that moment.

“Of course you are,” I said, walking off.

Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if I never said that, lucky for everyone I did.

July 30, 2017

Maybe I overestimated how in control I am of everything; the game, the rookie, and my body.

We were playing again, tensions running high. It was bound to happen. O’Hara wanted her moment, wanted to prove herself. And me? I wasn’t giving her an inch. Then, somewhere in the third quarter, it happened.

I saw her coming, her eyes locked on me with a mix of defiance and determination. She made a quick drive, cutting to the basket with an intensity that almost made me respect her. But I wasn’t about to let a rookie get one over on me. I slammed into her, blocking her path with enough force to knock her off balance. She hit the floor hard, her elbows scraping against the court. The whistle blew, and for a moment, I watched her lay there, her frustration almost palpable.

“Get up,” I muttered, standing over her. “You’re gonna need more than that to take me down, rook”

I saw the anger in her eyes as she pushed herself up, pressing her chest on mine. Damn, was she this tall the whole time? The way she glared at me, it was almost as if she was daring me to push her further. “You think you’re untouchable? Just fucking wait.”

My smirk didn’t waver. I’d seen that fire in rookies before, puffed up, ready to prove themselves. “I don’t think, O’Hara. I know.” I said with the most arrogant tone I owned.

“Oh you’re just a fucking bitch, aren’t you?” Before I could react further, she shoved me hard. Everyone erupted into chaos. I felt the rush of adrenaline as I moved to shove her back, but the moment I lunged, my teammates were already there, hands gripping my arms and holding me back.

O’Hara wasn’t any better off. Many of her teammates were swarming around her, trying to pull her away from me. I could see the frustration in her eyes as she struggled against their hold, her fists clenched and ready to throw.

Fun fact about fights: when you need the strength of 4 pro basketball players to hold you back, it makes you look really fucking dangerous.

We both tried to break through the human barriers restraining us. I could almost feel the impact of our fists connecting, the unfinished fight burning in my veins. But with every struggle, every strained push against the hands holding us back, the reality set in: we were not going to get to finish this here.

I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the cameras, the refs, or the impending technical. All I cared about was feeling that fire she was throwing at me. I wanted her to know what it felt like to face me, to try and break through the wall I’d built around myself.

Eventually, the refs managed to get us both under control, leading us to opposite sides of the court. As I was pulled away, I couldn’t help but glance back at O’Hara, her eyes still blazing with that same fire. Despite the chaos, a small part of me felt a twisted respect for her, a rookie who was not just willing to challenge me, but was ready to throw down if necessary.

The arena buzzed with excitement and disbelief as we were separated, but the fight between us was far from over.

That was the moment I knew this kid wasn’t going anywhere. And maybe, just maybe, I’d finally met someone who could keep up.

Little did I know.

Fucking Victoria.

"Rivalry Ignites: O’Hara and Taurasi Get into Fiery Altercation During Friday Game"

"San Antonio Stars Victoria O’Hara Adidas Grey and Black Edition Player Jersey | SOLD OUT"

Requests are Open!

Masterlist

[boobabietch]

Chapter VI: “All-Star Aftermath: O’Hara Wrestles With The Ghost Of Taurasi” | Diana Taurasi x OC

Warnings: mild smut, mild mild mild :)

A/N: Ok first of all I wanna say I am very fucking sorry okay? Because I neglected you guys, I am aware. So I’m apologizing publicly cause I was spiraling over a girl I didn’t even date (yk lesbian things) so I wanted to apologize because I starved you guys, I know I said I would give you this chapter weeks ago and I didn’t, but you have to understand me, college was kicking my ass, overall life was kicking my ass pretty hard so I apologize. But anywayssss this is kind of a filler chapter because I have bigger things planned for the next one so don’t come for me. I liked it? Yeah, I love it? probably, but it’s not the most interesting one so well who am I to dictate what y’all feel about this just enjoy it. It’s finally here. I’m sorry if I scared you guys with the possibility of never updating again I promise I will be more constant because I’m on vacation now. Yay me!! Sooo as always English is not my first language so tell me if something is wrong so I can change it asap, like reblogs and comments (!!!) are very very appreciated and my ask box is always open, and I’ll stop rambling shit now, enjoy!!! Love, Sof :))

Making headlines masterlist

Her lips were everywhere.

I could feel her nipping at my neck, her teeth sinking into my skin, only to ease the sting with a drag of her tongue.

I could feel her hands.

One wandering on my waist, gripping with enough strength to leave bruises I could stare at in disbelief for days, the other slipping under my waistband, cupping my core, making me ache for more of her touch.

I gasped, trying to form words, anything, but her mouth covered mine, swallowing the sound before it could escape. She tasted like the edge of a blade, sharp and intoxicating. I was melting, losing myself to the pressure of her body, the scent of her skin, the way our breaths tangled in the heated space between us.

Then suddenly, she pulled away, just enough for me to see that damn smirk curving on her lips.

Diana Taurasi.

The bane of my existence, the cause of my sleepless nights and restless days, now pressed against me.

My heart pounded so hard I was sure she could feel it against her chest. I wanted to push her away, tell her that I hated her, that I didn’t need her,

except I did.

I wanted her like I needed air. The realization stung as much as her teeth on my neck.

My fingers sank into her shoulders, nails scraping skin, and she hissed, leaning in again, her voice a low murmur against my jaw. “You like this, baby?” she teased, and my stomach flipped.

I hated that word. I hated how she said it. I hated how it made me want to beg.

But just as I was about to respond, maybe a breathless curse, maybe her name,

everything went dark.

I woke up with a choked gasp, the sheets twisted around my legs, sweat dampening the back of my neck. My heart hammered in my chest as I blinked against the early morning light filtering through the blinds. My breathing was ragged, my body tense, and I cursed under my breath, pushing the covers off me. I sat up, running a shaky hand through my hair, trying to dispel the lingering ghost of her touch.

It had been weeks since the All-Star game. Weeks since that impossible kiss that turned my world upside down. Weeks since I’d felt her lips on mine, tasted the challenge in her smirk. We hadn’t crossed paths since. The schedule hadn’t lined up. I’d tried to convince myself that was a good thing, that I needed space to clear my head.

But my head was anything but clear.

I couldn’t stop thinking about her. No matter how many times I hit the gym or how many hours I spent running drills until my legs shook, her face, her voice, her damn arrogance would creep in. At night, I dreamed of her, of her body pressed against mine, her insults whispered like sweet nothings, her hands daring to roam where I’d never let anyone else go. During the day, I caught myself searching for her name in headlines, hoping for some new rumor or comment, something to tether me back to reality.

Instead, I got nothing. Radio silence.

I stood up and paced across my apartment, trying to calm the pounding in my veins. This had to stop. I needed to get a grip. She was just a rival, a talented, annoying, beautiful rival who I had no business craving.

She played with my head like it was a ball in her hands, tossing it around, leaving me off-balance and hungry for more.

I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and scrolled through social media, trying to distract myself. But that was a mistake. I stumbled onto a clip from the All-Star game, one of our assists, the crowd going wild as we perfectly executed a play. The camera zoomed in on us high-fiving, her grin wicked, my smirk barely contained. My stomach twisted as I remembered how it felt to stand beside her, how alive I felt when her gaze met mine. I tossed the phone aside, frustrated.

A few more weeks until our teams faced off again. Until then, I was stuck in this haze of longing and resentment, pride and lust warring within me. I ran a hand over my face, tempted to throw on some gear and head to the court right now, burn off this energy. But I knew that no matter how hard I trained, I couldn’t sweat her out of my system.

I wanted to be mad at myself. I wanted to hate that I’d let her get to me so completely. But all I felt was this burning ache, this desperate need to have her in front of me, so I could either punch her or kiss her again. Possibly both.

My teammates had started to notice my distraction. A’ja had asked me, more than once, what was going on in my head. I never gave her a real answer. How could I possibly say it out loud? “Oh, nothing, just obsessing over Diana Taurasi, the woman I supposedly can’t stand, but who I apparently want to devour in my sleep.” Yeah, that would go over well.

I took a deep breath, willing my pulse to slow down. I had to figure something out. Maybe I just needed to see her again, to get the tension out of my system. On the court, we’d fight it out with skill and sweat. Off the court, maybe we could resolve this in some other way…

No

That was a dangerous thought. I couldn’t let myself hope for something that made so little sense. She’d probably laugh in my face if I showed any weakness, any confusion over what happened between us.

Leaning against the wall, I closed my eyes and pictured her again. I couldn’t help it. The memory of that kiss, the press of her body, the taste of her confidence, refused to leave me alone. Part of me wanted to run to the nearest gym and shoot hoops until my arms gave out. Another part wanted to hole up in my apartment and relive that dream until I found some semblance of relief.

I had to face it: I was hooked. And I hated it as much as I craved it.

With a frustrated sigh, I pushed away from the wall and started getting dressed. No matter how twisted my mind got, I had to keep living. Practice, training, breathing, eventually, we’d meet again, and I’d have to confront this head-on. Until then, I would survive somehow, even if every time I closed my eyes, her phantom touch set me on fire.

I snatched my keys off the table, determined to run until my legs screamed louder than my thoughts. Maybe then I could forget the ghost of her lips on mine, the echo of her voice in my ear, and the way my heart still pounded just thinking of her.

Maybe, for a little while, I could pretend that I didn’t want what I knew would ruin me.

Requests are Open!

Masterlist

[boobabietch]

Masterlist

Four - One direction

Steal my girl - Paige Bueckers

Ready to run -

Change your ticket -

Spaces - Rue Bennett

Illusion - Robin Buckley

18 - Kate Martin

Where do broken hearts go? - Regulus Black

Fireproof - Ellie Williams

Night Changes -

Stockholm syndrome -

Once in a lifetime -

Ok so boom, hi boos!! Haven’t been active in a while but finally I’m done with school so I can start this project I’ve had for a while! So basically I’m publishing a one shot for every song on the album Four by One direction. As you can see many songs don’t have a character yet so suggestions are always welcome! I’ll try to write the ASAP because I’m really really excited about this.

Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open!

Masterlist

[boobabietch]

Loser!Ellie Williams x Reader blurb +18

Loser!Ellie who tried so hard to be with you, to be able to touch your body like she did in her most lustful and dirty dreams, and when god gave her the chance to do it, she would eat you out like a fucking starved man. Just think about all the sweet praises coming out of her mouth as whispers for only you to hear, just to be drowned almost immediately with the pornographic sound of her mouth working on your soaked pussy, sending vibrations to your cunt with her grunts and moans. This woman worships the ground you walk on so she definitely lets you know what a good girl you are while she is in deep eating you out. Your hand tangled in her hair tugging it at the feeling of your pleasure building up in your core cause her skilled mouth is working on you with such precision, her long and slim fingers working their way in and out of your damp cunt hitting that spot that makes your head fuzzy and your legs shake. Picture Ellie giving kitten licks all over your glistening pussy after you cum messily all over her because she would be caught dead before letting any of that go to waste, enjoying the primal feeling of you all over her tastebuds, your presence filling all of her senses making her mind swim in the pool of your existence, with the only thought in her being you, you, you. And when she is done she would look at you in the eyes while showering you with soft kisses all over your chest asking how good she made you feel while she is using her hands to caress all the curves on your body and soothing the post-orgasmic ache between your thighs like the gentleman she is <3

Omfg this came out waaaay longer than intended! There is something about midnights that make me think of this woman in unholy situations

Hope you liked it!

Not proofread and English is not my first language so lmk if there is something wrong so I can change it asap :)

Masterlist

Requests are: Open!

[boobabietch]

Chapter V: “Victoria O’Hara Looses Her Fucking Mind. Again!” | Diana Taurasi x OC

Warnings: V is loosing her shit (one more time) and Diana being the menace she is, and barely noticeable alcohol consumption

A/N: honestly guys I think I ate this time, with all due respect I fucking love this chapter that’s it. I know I said this would be out last week but I’m a struggling college student and I wanted this chapter to be extra fucking perfect, I just hope you guys love it like I do. Per usual you already know the drill, English is not my first language so yeah just lmk if my dumbass self screwed somewhere so I can change it and not embarrass myself, likes reblogs and comments(!!!) are highly appreciated and my ask box is always open for whatever you want to tell me. With nothing more to say, enjoy. Love Sof :))

Making headlines masterlist

“From Enemies to Allies? The All-Star Weekend Just Got a Lot More Interesting with O’Hara and Taurasi Both On Team Delle Donne!”

I hated her. And I wanted her. And I didn’t know which feeling was stronger.

I hated it.

She was going to be on my side, and I hated it. But I hated more the fact that she was the only thing clouding my mind right now. I just made the All-Star team, and my thoughts went straight to her.

Her words, her voice, her talent, her body, her hands, her lips, her hips—

Stop. It. Right. There.

I shook my head as I stepped onto the court, the noise of the crowd surrounding me, but it felt muted in comparison to the chaos inside my mind. Diana Taurasi was a living legend, and now I had to play alongside her. I had spent months battling against her on the court, and now she was going to be my teammate.

Great. Just what I needed.

As the game began, I focused on my breathing, trying to block out the fact that she was always right beside me, moving with that effortless grace that had everyone talking. The first few minutes were a blur of adrenaline and deafening cheers, the thrill of the crowd igniting a fire in me. I was quick on my feet, executing plays and sinking shots. But every time I caught a glimpse of Diana out of the corner of my eye, a rush of irritation mixed with something dangerously close to desire surged through me.

“Nice pass!” she called out after I made an assist, and my heart raced, my body responding to her enthusiasm despite my annoyance. I shot her a glare, determined to keep my focus. “Shut your mouth and focus on the game, Taurasi.”

She chuckled, that infuriating laugh that somehow sent butterflies through me. “Just saying, kid. You might actually be useful.”

As the game wore on, we fell into a rhythm. The crowd erupted every time we executed a play, the energy lifting me higher with each basket. But every time Diana scored or made a defensive stop, I could feel the heat radiating from her, and it made my competitive spirit flare. I hated that I was so drawn to her.

I was that stupid moth who crashed against the glass of the lighting bulb.

By the end of the first half, we were in the lead, and I was feeling pretty good about myself. But as we huddled together, I could feel her presence just behind me, an electric charge that made it hard to concentrate on the coach’s strategy. I forced myself to focus on the game plan, but all I could think about was how close she was, how I could feel the warmth radiating off her.

After the final buzzer sounded, signaling our victory, the cheers of the crowd washed over me like a tidal wave. But before I could relish the win, I turned to find Diana standing right there, a triumphant grin plastered across her face. “See? Not so bad playing with me, huh?”

“Don’t push it,” I shot back, unable to hide the smirk threatening to break through.

She stepped closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What’s wrong baby?”

My arms fell, as I walked to be just beside her, my lips close to her ear, my heart racing for reasons I refused to acknowledge. “I said don’t fucking push it”

“Star Power: O’Hara and Taurasi Prove They’re a Force to Be Reckoned With”

With that, we made our way to the after-party, the tension sizzling between us like a live wire. The place was packed, music blasting and lights flashing in every direction. I grabbed a drink, needing something to cool the heat rising in my cheeks from our earlier banter. But as the night wore on, and the small talk with people who I didn’t really care about, but for some reason they cared about me turned poisoned, I couldn’t shake the feeling of her presence. It was intoxicating and maddening all at once.

The atmosphere was full with excitement, laughter spilling from all corners of the room. I tried to drown out the noise, but every beat of the music seemed to pulse in time with my heart, and every glance in Diana’s direction sent a rush of heat through me.

I caught her across the room, chatting animatedly with some teammates, her laughter cutting through the crowd like a siren call. I tried to focus on my drink, but my eyes kept drifting back to her. The way she moved, the way she commanded attention, it was infuriating and captivating at the same time. I hated that she could pull me in like this.

“Earth to Victoria!” a A’ja nudged me, pulling me from my thoughts. “Girl you good? You’ve been staring at Taurasi like she’s about to jump off a cliff.”

“Shut up,” I replied, rolling my eyes even as I felt the heat creeping up my neck. “I’m just… observing.”

“Observing, huh? Is that how we calling that this days? You’ve got that look, like you’re about to take her out or something.”

“More like I want to beat the shit out of her” I shot back, forcing a laugh that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

But the truth was, I was feeling anything but hostile. The tension was thick in the air, and I could sense Diana moving closer, the hum of energy sparking between us like static electricity. She was a force of nature, and I hated that I wanted to get swept up in it.

I made my way through the crowd, drink in hand, hoping to find a quieter corner. I stood on a secluded part of the place, the music now muffled for the walls that separated me from the chaotic mess inside, but somehow, it was peaceful, well as peaceful as you could be in a party, that was until I felt a presence behind me.

I didn’t even had to look back, my head just hung low knowing exactly who was there.

“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light, even though my heart raced.

She looked at me, eyes glinting with mischief. “Let what go? The fact that we actually make a pretty good team? Or the fact that you’re secretly obsessed with me?”

“Fuck. Off.” I shot back, crossing my arms. “You know what? Every time you speak I actually consider throwing you into the nearest wall.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” she replied, stepping closer, the air crackling between us.

I narrowed my eyes, refusing to back down. “I don’t think you really want to find out.”

“Why not? It could be fun,” she challenged, her voice low, enticing.

I felt my resolve slipping, drawn to her in a way that made my skin prickle with awareness. We were standing too close, the heat of her body igniting something deep within me.

Suddenly, the playful banter shifted, and I was acutely aware of every inch between us. “You’re fucking impossible,” I whispered, my breath catching in my throat.

“And you hate that you love it,” she shot back, her gaze steady, daring me to disagree.

I found myself leaning closer, caught in her magnetic pull. I couldn’t help it; the tension had become unbearable.

“Is this how you deal with the girls that make you feel threatened Taurasi?” I breathed, my heart racing.

“Only the ones that are pretty” she replied, her voice low and smooth.

Before I knew what I was doing, I pushed her shoulder lightly, my frustration boiling over. “How about you stop acting like a bitch who own the fucking place,” I hissed, but the fight was half-hearted.

“Yeah? How about I don’t” she smirked, pushing back against me with just enough force to knock me off balance. “Maybe I’ll own you too.”

I laughed, a sound laced with disbelief and desire. “You really think you’re the shit don’t you?”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she took a step closer, her breath mingling with mine. “Why don’t you find out?”

The room faded away as I stared into her eyes, the challenge hanging heavy between us.

And. I. Leaned. In.

I leaned in!!! Can you fucking believe that????

And suddenly we were kissing

It was raw and heated, our lips crashing together in a mix of frustration and longing.

It was reckless and intoxicating, and I hated how much I craved her. My hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer as she deepened the kiss, her fingers threading through my hair.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and wide-eyed, I felt a mix of triumph and disbelief. “What the fuck Taurasi” I whispered, half-laughing, half-stunned.

Diana smirked, the challenge still burning in her gaze. “I really think you know what the fuck O’Hara”

And just like that, she left, but now there was an undercurrent of something deeper, a connection I hadn’t expected but couldn’t ignore. I hated that I was drawn to her, that the fire between us was undeniable. But maybe, just maybe, this was a battle I was finally willing to lose.

Wait did I really said that?

"What the Hell Just Happened? Why Do Victoria O’Hara Always Ends Up In This Position?"

Requests are Open!

Masterlist

[boobabietch]

Chapter IV: "Victoria O'Hara's Faces Her Toughest Opponent: Her Own Thoughts" | Diana Taurasi x OC

Warnings: nothing really just Victoria loosing her fucking mind but that’s about it (leave hg alone she’s trying her best)

A/N: I cannot tell y’all how much I freaking struggled writing this but anyways it’s here, enjoy. Honestly speaking I don’t know what to think but I’ll let you guys decide if y’all like it lmaooo. Remember that English is not my first language so if you find something wrong please tell me so I can change it asap, as always my likes, reblogs and comments(!!!) are highly appreciated and my ask box is always open. Love Sof :)

Making headlines masterlist

“Victoria? Yeah, she’s good."

I can’t stop.

"But God, she’s still a little baby!"

I won’t stop.

"There’s a difference between playing a good game and knowing how to win, and I think that we already know that she doesn’t know anything about the latter."

I can’t breathe.

“She’ll figure that out eventually... or not."

She won’t let me breathe.

I woke up to ragged breaths, my mind struggling to grasp the thin line between the real world and my dreamland. Every word, every mannerism, every inch of her image replayed in my mind, ever since that day, ever since that game. My teammates went home to their families, trying to enjoy their precious offseason time. I didn’t. How could I?

Wake up, train, pain, train, eat, sleep, repeat.

"Victoria? Yeah, she’s good."

No.

"But God, she’s still a little baby!"

No.

"There’s a difference between playing a good game and knowing how to win, and I think that we already know that she doesn’t know anything about the latter."

NO.

“She’ll figure that out eventually... or not."

FUCK, STOP IT.

It was like running in circles. My muscles ached, my lungs begged me for a few seconds to breathe.

Wake up, train, pain, train, eat, sleep, repeat.

"Victoria? Yeah, you’re good."

I felt her lips brush against my ear, her whispers feeling like a thousand needles piercing my eardrums.

"But God, you’re still a little baby!"

Her scent crept up my nose like deadly poison, making me hyper-aware of her closeness, of how her chest pressed against my side, caging me, trapping me in her warmth.

"There’s a difference between playing a good game and knowing how to win, and I think that we already know that you don’t know anything about the latter."

I can’t breathe.

"You’ll figure that out eventually... or not."

DIANA, I CAN'T BREATHE.

I woke up, my covers on the floor, tangled in a mess of fabric that matched my chaotic thoughts. The room was dark, the only light filtering through the blinds from the streetlights outside. It felt like the weight of her words pressed down on me, suffocating me in the silence of my room.

I glanced at my phone—2:43 AM. I couldn’t shake the feeling of inadequacy that had seeped into my bones. I thought the sting of her words would fade, but they lingered like an uninvited guest that refused to leave.

Every time I closed my eyes, I could see her, taunting me, that smug grin on her face as she delivered her harshest truths. This was supposed to be my time, my moment. I had worked so hard to prove myself, to rise above the expectations and the scrutiny. But all I felt was the nagging doubt creeping back in.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed and rubbed my eyes, willing myself to shake off the haze of sleep. The early hours before dawn were my favorite time to train, the world outside still, just as my thoughts should have been.

But as I laced up my sneakers, I couldn’t help but hear the echo of her voice in my mind.

"Victoria? Yeah, she’s good."

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to focus. The sun wouldn’t be up for hours, but I had my own battles to fight, starting with the one inside my head. I was done letting her live rent-free in my mind.

The court on my apartment complex was empty, just the sound of my shoes squeaking against the polished hardwood floor. I dribbled the ball, the rhythmic thud a familiar comfort. With each bounce, I channeled my frustration into my training, driving myself harder than ever before. Every drill felt cathartic. I poured everything into the shots I took, the sprints I completed, the reps I pushed through. But even as I fought to drown out her voice, it echoed louder with every shot that clanged off the rim.

“She’s still a little baby!"

I snarled at the ball, my anger fueling my drive. I was anything but a baby. I was a warrior, and I would show her what that truly meant. Hours passed, my body pushed to its limits. My lungs aching in every breath I took, forcing me to rest, begging me to stop, but I didn’t stop. Not until I felt every ounce of frustration boil over into determination. Finally, as the sun began to rise, casting a golden hue over the court, I stopped, panting heavily. I stood in the middle of the gym, surrounded by echoes of my hard work, and let the silence wash over me. I might not have won that game, but I was far from defeated.

April 22, 2018

Something you must know about A’ja and I is the bond we shared since our early days in college, we’ve been close since my sophomore and her freshman year, playing together at South Carolina. We had shared everything, blood, sweat, tears, losses and more than anything, wins.

Whether it was late-night study sessions, grueling conditioning drills, multiple love stories and eventual heartbreaks, you name it.

A’ja was always right there beside me. She was my rock, the person who always knew when to push me harder and when to tell me to chill out and breathe.

When I attended the 2018 draft and I found out my very best friend was going to be playing with me at the now Aces I was fucking thrilled.

But when I started practicing in training camp like my life depended on it after last season, she was the first to notice. And she wasn’t the type to let things go.

"Victoria? Yeah, she’s good."

The words echoed in my head as I threw another elbow into the defender's chest, ripping my way through the paint like a battering ram. The gym around me full with energy, the hardwood floor squeaking under our feet. But all I could hear was her voice, Diana’s voice.

I won’t stop. I can’t.

Sweat dripped from my brow, stinging my eyes, but I was locked in. Practice wasn’t just practice anymore. It was survival. Every drill, every scrimmage felt like a test, like I had something to prove. Not to my team, not to myself, just to her.

I glanced over at the rest of the squad. They were watching me. Kelsey raised an eyebrow, Sydney looked curious, and A'ja, just stood there, arms crossed, studying me like I was some puzzle she couldn’t quite solve.

"Yo, what’s up with V?" A’ja asked, adjusting her headband as we set up for another scrimmage.

"I mean, she’s been like this since the first day of camp," Kelsey muttered, keeping her eyes on me as I lined up for the free throw drill. "It's like she's on a mission or something."

"Mission?" Sydney snorted. "More like she's fucking possessed."

I took the shot. Nothing but net. The ball snapped against the floor, but I was already backpedaling, ready for the next rep. I didn't care who was watching. I didn't care about anything except my game. I wasn’t going to be the same player I was last season.

Not after what she said.

“But God, she’s still a little baby.”

“Yo, V," A’ja said during a break in one of our preseason practices, her voice low so the rest of the team wouldn’t overhear. "You’ve been going hard, even for you. Something up? Or you just trying to outwork me?" She flashed me that signature grin, but her eyes held a hint of concern.

I smirked, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from my face. "Nah, just focused. You know how it is."

A’ja narrowed her eyes, clearly not buying it. "Nah, this ain’t regular ‘I’m focused’ Victoria. You’re grinding like you’ve got something to prove. You trying to tell me something?"

I sighed, knowing I couldn’t hide anything from her. "I’m good, A’ja. Just... trying to get better."

"You've always been trying to get better," she shot back. "This is different."

I shrugged, looking away. "Maybe I just need to be better than I was last season. Stronger. Faster."

She studied me for a moment, then nudged my shoulder. "This about that Taurasi stuff? From last year? 'Cause everyone’s talking about how you've been in beast mode since camp started."

I froze for a second. I hadn’t told anyone about how much Diana’s words had gotten to me, but A’ja saw through me like always.

"What’s the deal with you two anyway?" She asked, not letting it go. "You beefin’ or…?"

I wiped the sweat off my forehead, looking away. “It’s nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing. It was everything.

When she heard my dry response, she leaned in. "You don’t have to tell me everything, but... you know I got your back. Always."

I looked at her, my chest tightening with gratitude. A’ja always knew when to push and when to pull back, and today, she was giving me space. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t still watching, still keeping tabs on me.

"Thanks, J," I muttered, using the nickname I had for her. "I’ll be fine. I just... need to get through this season."

She nodded slowly, as if she understood more than I was saying. "Just don’t wear yourself out before we even start, alright? We’re in this together."

"Always," I echoed.

Our bond was the one thing that felt stable, even when the rest of my life felt like it was spiraling out of control. A'ja kept me grounded, and I needed that more than ever, especially with Diana still roaming free in my head.

"O'Hara on Edge: Will Her Relentless Training Pay Off or Push Her to the Brink?"

June 10, 2018

"Victoria’s been putting in the work, hasn’t she?"

I watched her from the sideline as she moved with a kind of intensity that was hard to miss. She was laser-focused, every step, every shot with purpose. She wasn’t the player I’d faced last year. No, this Victoria was something else. It pissed me off.

Headlines had been swirling about the new-look Aces, with most eyes on A’ja Wilson, but I saw the shift in Victoria. I could see she only had one goal, and it was clear she was gunning for me. Fine. Let her try. I’d be waiting.

The game was intense from the start, both teams pushing each other to the brink. Victoria was everywhere, diving for loose balls, taking shots with confidence. She was playing like she had something to prove, and she was damn well proving it.

I couldn’t help but admire her fire, but I also couldn’t let her forget who she was up against.

"Keep an eye on O’Hara," I muttered to BG as we lined up for the inbound. "She’s got something fucked up in her today."

Brittney chuckled. "Looks like you’ve been living in her head rent-free."

I smirked, glancing at Victoria as she locked eyes with me from across the court. "Yeah, well… she’s about to learn a thing or two."

The game intensified, the back-and-forth growing more physical. I found myself matched up with Victoria more than once, the tension between us palpable. She played with fiery intensity, and every time she drove to the basket, I met her with resistance.

But she wasn’t backing down.

We collided during a fast break, and the ball went flying out of bounds. The referee’s whistle blew, but neither of us cared. Victoria shoved me, hard, and I pushed her right back.

"What the fuck is your problem?" I spat, stepping up into her space. Our chests nearly touched, the heat of our anger crackling between us.

"My problem?" she hissed, her chest rising and falling as she glared at me. "You. You’re my fucking problem."

"Oh, baby, you’re gonna have to try harder than that" The name slipped from my lips, a mixture of challenge and something I couldn’t quite define.

Her eyes widened for a split second, caught off guard. "Don’t call me that."

"What? Baby?"

The whistle blew again, but it didn’t matter.

The referee's voice was drowned out by the sound of my own heartbeat.

"You don’t want me calling you that? Too bad, baby. You’ve been chasing me this whole time, and now you’re acting all tough like you’re not playing into it." I stepped closer, our chests now pressed together, neither of us willing to back down.

We were nose to nose, chest to chest, and every inch of me wanted to either push her further or… something else. Something I wasn’t willing to admit.

Her nostrils flared as she clenched her fists, but I could see it, her composure was cracking. A slight tremble in her hands, her lips pressed together like she was biting back something sharp, or maybe something soft.

Victoria’s eyes flashed with that fire she’d been carrying all game, but there was something else lurking beneath it. I could feel it in the tension between us, the way our bodies were gravitating closer instead of pulling away. It was like the collision had unlocked something neither of us had the guts to admit was there all along.

"You think you’ve got me figured out, Taurasi?" she shot back, her voice low and dripping with disdain, but her breath hitched ever so slightly. I noticed.

I smirked. "I know I do."

That got her.

"You don’t know anything," Victoria growled, gripping my arm to prevent me from walking away, refusing to back down, but her words lacked the bite they once had. Her eyes told a different story now, one I recognized all too well.

There was no more space between us. Her hand was on my arm, gripping tight, like she needed something to ground her in the whirlwind of emotions swirling around us. I could feel the heat radiating off her, the flush of adrenaline mixing with… something else lingering in the air.

"Don’t I?" I asked softly, my voice barely a whisper now as I leaned in. Her breath hitched again, and I knew I had her. "You’ve been chasing me, baby. All this time."

Her grip tightened on my arm, and I could feel her pulse racing beneath her skin. She was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling against mine as her resolve started to crumble. I could practically taste the frustration and anger rolling off her, but underneath it all, there was desire. Raw and unspoken, but there.

We stayed like that for a moment, just mere seconds, neither of us moving, the tension hanging heavy in the air between us. Then, slowly, I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. The intensity was still there, but her guard had slipped. There was vulnerability now, a flicker of something she was trying to suppress.

Her lips parted, as if she was about to say something, but then an arm thrown over my chest pulling me back snapped us both out of it.

I turned my head slightly, seeing Brittney, dragging me out of the confrontation. "You two done, or do you need a room?"

Victoria immediately released the grip she still had on my arm and took a step back, her face flushing red. I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment, or maybe both. I watched as she shook her head and stormed off toward her bench, her shoulders tense, jaw clenched.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension. But as I stood there, watching her disappear into the sea of players, I couldn’t help but smirk to myself.

"Yeah, I’ve got her," I muttered under my breath.

My heart was still racing as I sat on the bench, trying to put distance between myself and Diana. I could still feel the warmth of her body pressed against mine, her voice whispering in my ear, taunting me. And the worst part? I wanted it. I hated how much I wanted it.

"Baby." The way she’d said it, so damn casually, like she owned me, like she knew exactly what buttons to push to unravel me.

I sat, my elbows resting on my knees and my head down, trying to catch my breath, trying to push down the emotions that were threatening to spill over. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to let her get under my skin like this. I wasn’t supposed to want her.

But I did.

———

I squeezed my eyes shut, my fists clenching as I tried to wrestle control back over my mind, my body. Everything felt wrong and right at the same time, and it was driving me insane.

"Vic, you okay?" A’ja’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I snapped my eyes open, quickly wiping at my face to make sure there were no tears. I didn’t want her to see me like this.

"Yeah, I’m good," I muttered, forcing a smile as I turned upwards to face her. She looked at me, eyebrows raised, clearly not buying it.

"You sure? Because you and Diana looked like you were about two seconds away from throwing punches, or making out."

I shot her a glare. "Don’t start, A’ja."

She held up her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I’m just saying. There’s a lot of tension there, and not all of it looks like the ‘I-hate-you’ kind."

"Whatever." I stood up pushing past her, heading toward my water bottle, but her words stuck with me.

Not all of it looks like the ‘I-hate-you’ kind.

No, it didn’t. And that was the problem.

"Rivalry Reaches New Heights: O'Hara and Taurasi Deliver an Unforgettable Game!"

June 5, 2018

EXTRA EXTRA!

“From Enemies to Allies? The All-Star Weekend Just Got a Lot More Interesting with O’Hara and Taurasi Both On Team Delle Donne!”

Dear god, you have to be fucking kidding me.

Requests are Open!

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[boobabietch]

Chapter III: "From ROTY Glory to Post-Season Agony” | Diana Taurasi x OC

Warnings: bitch Diana and random disclaimer I know that in order to be eliminated they have to play two games against phoenix but for the sake of the story it’s just going to be one, and let’s pretend the stars made it to playoffs that year and that they were not absolutely demolished like they were in real life lmao

A/N: I wanna thank y’all so much for the support to this story I swear I’ve been having a lot of fun writing it, I wanna start building Vico’s relationship with her teammates and we are so close to finally seeing A’ja x Vic on the story and I’m so damn excited. Sorry for the slow burn but I love it and I wanna make u guys crave it for a little bit longer. As always English is not my first language so if you see something wrong please tell me so I can change it asap, comments are super appreciated and my ask box is always open. Also if you have any ideas or requests for this story send them through!!! I would really love to see what you guys want because your wish is my command. Love Sof :)

Making headlines masterlist

The last practice before the playoffs had that familiar intensity, but this time, something felt different. I could sense it in the air, a mix of anticipation, nerves, and something I couldn’t quite place. I knew this feeling too well. The playoffs were around the corner, but today held something more.

We had been on a hot streak, our team coming together at the perfect moment, and I was determined to keep the momentum going. My rookie season had been a rollercoaster, with every moment pushing me to my limits. Now, standing on the brink of the playoffs, I felt like everything was about to come to a head.

Vickie gathered us in the middle of the court, her voice cutting through the buzzing tension. “Alright, listen up,” she said, her tone commanding our full attention. “Before we wrap up practice, I have some news to share.”

The media girl was now there, recording everything, holy fuck.

I glanced around at my teammates, my gaze finding Sydney’s who just rose her eyebrows and sent me an excited smile, the murmur of whispers filling the gaps in the silence. Everyone was on edge, wondering what was coming next.

“Victoria,” Coach called out, her gaze locking onto mine. I froze.

My heart skipped a beat. Why was she singling me out? My mind raced, sifting through any possible mistake or misstep I could have made. But nothing came to mind. I had been busting my ass in every practice.

“You’ve been a standout all season,” Coach began, her voice steady but filled with pride. “You’ve shown incredible growth, both as a player and as a fighter. Every game, every moment, you’ve given it your all.”

I could feel the eyes of my teammates on me, the weight of the moment growing heavier by the second.

“And because of that,” Coach continued, a small smile playing at her lips, “you’ve been named Rookie of the Year.”

It felt like time froze. The words didn’t immediately register, like my brain refused to accept what I had just heard. Rookie of the Year? Me?

My teammates erupted into cheers, and before I knew it, Syd was pulling me into a bear hug, screaming at the top of her lungs, her excitement infectious. “Vic! Rookie of the Year, baby! You earned it!”

I blinked, still trying to wrap my mind around the announcement. Rookie of the Year. The title echoed in my mind, and suddenly, it was real. Every late-night gym session, every brutal practice, every bit of sweat and pain, it had led to this.

Coach stepped forward, her voice quieter now, meant only for me. “You deserve it, Victoria. Now take this into the playoffs and show them what you’re made of.”

“Thank you, Coach,” I muttered, my voice thick with emotion. “Who’s freaking rookie of the year” Dearica yelled.

“I’m fucking Rookie of the year people”

"Victoria O’Hara Shines Bright: Named 2024 WNBA Rookie of the Year"

As the cheers died down and practice resumed, I could feel a strange weight lift off my shoulders. It was validation, everything I had been fighting for since day one was recognized. I was someone in this league now. Rookie of the Year wasn’t just a title; it was a statement.

But my mind can play funny tricks to me sometimes and as much as I wanted to revel in the moment, my thoughts drifted, as they always did, to the reaction of the only person that mattered to me at that time: Diana.

I know I know, fucking pathetic.

She had been a constant thorn in my side all season, pushing and pulling at me like we were playing an entirely different game than the one on the court. I knew she’d hear about this. Hell, she probably already did.

Would it matter to her? Would she see me differently now?

I doubted it.

A part of me wondered if it was enough, not for everyone but for her. The doubt gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside. This was my moment, and I wasn’t going to let miss Diana fucking Taurasi take that away from me.

As practice wound down, Sydney threw her arm around my shoulders, a grin plastered on her face. “Alright, Rookie of the Year, ready to tear that fucking oldie up in the playoffs?”

I smirked, my confidence coming back. “Shut up, I’m the only one that gets to call her fucking oldie. But baby you know it, lets go tear that fucking grandma”

This wasn’t just about the playoffs. This was about proving I was more than just a good rookie. It was about beating the best.

And that meant Diana.

I should’ve wished harder for that one though…

September 6, 2017

There’s something about the playoffs. The energy in the arena is different, charged, almost electric. The stakes are higher, the pressure suffocating. Today, it felt like the whole world was watching, and I could feel it like a noose tightening around my throat. But I didn’t care. This was my moment.

God are you listening? Do you hate me? Or maybe you just find my fucking bad luck very amusing. Because what were the odds that my first match of the playoffs was not only the first one but against fucking Phoenix.

(Actually it wasn’t odd at all like that’s how team placements work Victoria)

But we needed this win. Correction, I needed this win.

And of course, Taurasi was there, a constant in my life at this point, it was like the universe needed her to be in every important mark of my life, looming over me like a shadow I couldn’t shake. Shit, I wouldn’t be surprised if this bitch showed up to my freaking wedding, or to the delivery room of my fucking firstborn. Every time I looked up, she was there. Her eyes didn’t need to say anything anymore. They were just sharp, focused, and reminded me that no matter what I did, she was waiting for me to slip.

But I wasn’t slipping. Not today.

Am I though?

I played my ass off. Every rebound, every assist, every drive, I gave it everything. I was so locked in that I didn’t pay any mind to the deafening screams after the assist that made me had a triple double. The energy in the arena was feeding me, keeping me alive. My teammates were looking to me, and I was answering. Everything was coming together. For a second, I thought, maybe, just maybe, we could win this.

But basketball is a cruel game, especially in the playoffs.

Fourth quarter, three minutes left. We were tied, and I could feel it slipping. Phoenix was pressing hard, and I saw Diana smirking at me from the other end of the court, that same smug, irritating look she’s worn since the first game, I wanted to punch it out, but I couldn’t have another fucking tech because of her

“Victoria STOP STARING” fuck, sorry coach.

I could feel the pressure on my shoulders, the weight of the entire season, my entire team, like a thousand-pound anchor dragging me down. I didn’t know how much more I had left, but I couldn’t stop. Not yet.

I caught a pass, drove into the lane, and spun around my defender, and then there she was. I swear to God, it’s like she just knows when to ruin my day. She bodied me in the paint, and my shot clanged off the rim.

Fast break. Two passes later, the ball was in her hands, and of course, she drained a three in my face.

The arena exploded.

I felt the floor tilt beneath my feet. It was like I couldn’t breathe.

One minute left. They were up by three. We had one chance, one final push, but by then it was too late. Phoenix locked us down on defense, and time bled out like water slipping through my fingers.

The buzzer sounded, and it hit me like a punch to the gut.

We lost.

I just stood there, watching Phoenix celebrate. The fans were on their feet, the flashes from cameras lit up the court, and somewhere in the middle of it all was Diana, arms raised, soaking it in.

I felt like I was going to puke.

I just did my first fucking triple-double, but I didn’t give a shit about that, it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

I could hear the buzz of the crowd, the announcers yelling into their mics about how Phoenix had advanced, about how San Antonio’s season was over.

I wasn’t listening. I couldn’t.

I turned, feeling my heart hammering in my chest, and walked off the court. But during the post-game handshake, certain player grabbed my hand.

Diana.

I wanted to rip it away, but something in her expression stopped me. She wasn’t gloating, not this time. She was just... there. Human.

"Good game, O'Hara," she said quietly. "You played really well."

I stared at her, completely thrown off. This was different. She never did this. Not once in all the months we’ve been at each other’s throats. The anger in my chest flickered for a moment, and for a brief second, I wondered if there was something genuine in what she said.

But before I could even find a response, Diana’s hand dropped, and she was gone, back to her team, her celebration, her victory.

It left a sour taste in my mouth.

I made my way to the locker room, head down, hands clenched into fists. As I walked reporters swarmed, shoving microphones and cameras in my face. But I didn’t hear them. I kept my head down, not stopping until I was finally in the relative quiet of the locker room.

We’d been eliminated. Our season was over.

I threw my shoes into my locker and sat there, staring at the floor, trying to process everything. The adrenaline was still coursing through my veins, making it hard to breathe, to think. I obviously wanted to make everything worse, grabbing my phone, typing Phoenix Mercury vs San Antonio Stars and started scrolling through Twitter.

And I saw it.

Diana Taurasi’s Post-Game Conference

Some reporter asked her about me. About my performance, about the rivalry that had been brewing between us for months. I thought maybe she’d give me a shred of respect after that moment on the court. Maybe we’d finally moved past all the bullshit.

But no. She did what she always does.

"Victoria? Yeah, she’s good. But God, She’s still a little baby! She still has a lot to learn. There’s a difference between playing a good game and knowing how to win, and I think that we already know that she doesn’t know anything about the latter. She’ll figure that out eventually... or not."

Red. I saw red.

I stared at the screen, my blood boiling. The audacity. I should’ve known. That moment we had on the court? A fucking lie. She couldn’t help herself. Had to tear me down just like she always did.

I barely had time to process it when it was my turn for the post-game conference. I walked in, still fuming, but I put on my best neutral face. The reporters were already waiting, firing off questions left and right.

And of course, someone had to ask: "Sara García from New York Times sports, Victoria are you aware of Diana Taurasi’s comments after the game?"

Oh I was aware, I was really fucking aware. But this time I really tried to avoid conflict, I swear I did

“Oh umm, I haven’t been able to hear anything about it, sorry”

But I should’ve known those fucking scavengers where aching for the drama.

SO THEY PLAYED THE GODAMN VIDEO AGAIN

“What do you think about it Victoria?” Sara bitch García from NYT sports asked after the video stopped

What did I think about it, fuck off.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt smaller in my life, me, a 6’2 woman, who just made a triple double and won Rookie of the year, felt small.

I paused, letting the anger simmer just beneath the surface. Fine. If they wanted to play it like this, hell if she wanted to play like this, so be it.

I leaned forward, meeting the reporter’s gaze. “Diana can say whatever she wants. But the reality is, her time’s running out. She’s not invincible, her expiration date it’s really not that far. And Diana next time we meet? I’ll be ready. Trust me.”

The room went silent for a moment, tension hanging heavy in the air. I could feel their eyes on me, waiting for something more, but I didn’t give them anything else. I stood up, nodded to the crowd, and walked out.

This wasn’t over. I was going to be better, I was going to be the best.

"Victoria O’Hara Declares War on Taurasi: ‘Next Time, It’s Going to Be Different’"

Requests are Open!

Masterlist

[boobabietch]

hcs on ellie comforting a reader that’s on the chubbier side? my body dysmorphia is so bad today :/

Hcs of Ellie x Chubby!reader

Warnings: self image issues!!!!! Slight nsfw but nothing too explicit, mentions of oral sex and fingering.

A/N: Hii anon!!! I’m going to be honest with you I didn’t know how to approach your request at first so I hope you’re happy with the result! I’ve struggled with my self image a lot and I still do so I know how much it sucks when your mind tries to make you feel like you’re not it, but I think that a thought that helps me a little bit is that no matter what I look like there is always some horny teenager that would make TikTok edits of me if I was famous lol. Anyways English is not my first language so if you find any grammar or spelling mistakes please tell me so I can change them asap. If you like this you would help me a lot with a like, comment or reblog. Love Sof :)

Word count: 572

There is not one single day that you don’t wake up with ellie telling you how pretty you are and everyday she makes sure to let you know how cute you look and how hot you are in the outfit you’re wearing (even if it’s your dirtiest depression pajama she it’s still drooling at the mere sight of you)

I just want to take a moment to remind you that you are this woman whole world

I mean she chose you for a reason! You are her heaven on earth

Honestly I like to think that since she met you you’ve always been her muse, she would love to put your beauty into paper in every extra time she has.

I’m 100% that she has a whole sketchbook only for you

She is aware of how the world is and how beauty works, she knows how much time you spend comparing your body to others on social media or real life and she also knows how much this means to you and how sometimes you just don’t feel enough

When you feel down because of this, all I can picture is Ellie being the touchiest person on the planet

I mean she would respect if you need some time to yourself or if you felt a little uncomfortable with showing your body but Ellie fucking Williams is a kissing your insecurities away believer

Picture her softly caressing your thighs, taking her time tracing the stretch marks in them with her thumb or kissing the bulge of your belly while she whispers how pretty you are and how fucking lucky she felt to be able to love you with the intensity she does because it’s what you fucking deserve

If she finds you looking yourself in the mirror for a little too long she would come from behind wrapping her arms and just take the time to admire how breath taking you are, she knows sometimes you don’t feel that way but if you could just see yourself like she does, you would understand that feeling bad about you body is completely crazy

This woman is a cuddler. Period. Her arms around your hips while she presses kisses to your neck, muttering sweet nothings while she worships you, because she just wants you to feel loved <3

We all know that our girl is 24/7 the horniest mf in the room so if you’re comfortable with it she would gladly make you moan your pain away with her head in between your legs or her fingers buried in you

Imagine looking her in the eye while she is on top of you expressing all the love and admiration she feels for you turned into the heavenly pleasure she is making you feel

This woman is a love maker and I will die on that hill!

If you take her with you to buy clothes you would need to physically stop her from taking you there and then on the fitting room because holy fuck you are HOT

But back to earth for a second she doesn’t matter how you look, she loves you and she loves that you love her back, so she’s made her most important task to be the safe place you need every time your thoughts become a little too much

You make her feel loved with your mere presence so she just wants to return the favor <3

Requests are: Open!

Masterlist

[boobabietch]

Jealous!Ellie blurb +18!

I was thinking of Ellie watching you.

Her sweet little girlfriend at a party being nice to all the filthy guys who definitely wanted to fuck her like she does, so when you guys go home she has the obligation to bend you over the table and abuse your pretty little hole with her strap until you’re begging for a release, legs shaking and vision blurring because of the fucking electricity that having Ellie balls deep in your cunt provides. Like just think about Ellie forcing you to scream for all your neighbors to hear who you belong too while she pounds mercilessly into your now abused hole coating her crotch and her strap with your juices, tears filling your eyes, with one of her hands tangled in your hair, pulling the roots making you feel that delicious ache in your scalp, and the other playing circles in your clit in a torturous pace until you cum pathetically all over her :(

Im so fucking in love with this woman is unreal, I need her so bad :(

Also not proofread and my first language is not English so lmk if there is something wrong :)

Masterlist

Requests are: Open!

[boobabietch]

Like I Would | Abby Anderson x fem!reader

Warnings: I could say mdni but they are going to do it anyways so just be mindful that this is +18 and I’m not responsible of the things you watch on this godforsaken site. SMUT, Sub!abby, thigh riding, oral sex (Abby receiving), afab!reader, teasing and I think that’s it but tell me if I missed something

A/N: oh my fucking god this took ages to writeeee, but anyways, hi there!! This is the first time I write for Abby so please excuse me if this is bad (hopefully not because I really liked the result) and also I haven’t wrote smut in ages so excuse that too. I’m not an English native speaker so any mistakes I’m not aware of please tell me so I can change them asap. If you like this you would help me a lot with a like, comment or reblog. Love Sof :)

Word count: 2.1k

"So... are you telling me that he went in dry?" You said this in clear distress to your best friend, Abby.

 "Yes?" she said with a little hesitation in her voice.

 "And you're still seeing that guy? No wait, let me rephrase that, you're still letting that guy fuck you?" You were astonished by the information Abby just shared. She was so damn perfect, yet somehow she was never properly satisfied in her many experiences with sex.

 

Why am I not the one in your bed every night?

 

"I mean, he had a nice time, and that was definitely hot." Oh, fuck no, she did not just say that.

 "Shut up, Abby; that's fucked up, dude."

 "I mean, what can I say? I take pleasure in seeing people get pleased by me."

 "I mean, that's valid! Of course, but that is very different from just letting a guy use you as a sex doll without even making you cum! That's just bad sex, Bibi." You know it; you know that if you just had a chance, you could show her how fucking good she can feel.

 "Ok, stop bothering me. Owen is like that. He's rough. It's fine. I can take it." Of course Owen is like that; he’s an idiot.

 "Abbyyyy, that's not the issue, and you know it."  

Come on, a chance, just one single chance, Abigail, please.

 

Let me fuck his name away, please

 

You begged, you literally begged in your mind, to be the one to show Abby that release she was desperately looking for.

 "Well, miss know-it-all, if you're going to roast the shit out of me, at least tell me what I'm doing wrong."

 "Abby, you're choosing the wrong guys. They can't please you."

 

They are not me.

 

"They can't?" The cockiness in her voice could be heard a mile away.

 

Shit, what game are we playing?

 "Of course they can’t, I'm telling you! They just don't know what to do with you. They don't know how to properly treat you, Bibi."

They don’t know, but I do and you know it

 "Oh, lord, then who knows? Who knows how to treat me? You?" That fucking giggle she let out after voicing the question...

You were taken aback by it. You had the thought before, every damn night, of Abby all over you, kissing her hungrily like you were starved, your lips biting and sucking every inch of her body, marking her as yours, screaming your name like it was a fucking prayer, like she wanted God to be a witness of the sin happening between you two. Of course you had the thought before...

 

Fuck it, I’m fucking you.

 

"Yes."

 "Yes?"

 "I said yes; I'm pretty sure I can do it."

 "Then do it; make me fucking cum."

There was something in Abby’s eyes that told you how much she wanted you, how much she craved you, and how much she needed you.

With little to no hesitation, you aggressively pulled her lips into yours, the couch creaking with the sudden movement of your body towering over her. Straddling her hips, her hand traveled to your neck while yours got entangled in her hair, pushing her face impossibly closer to yours.

Her scent makes you dizzy even to remember; your whole senses were full of her; you were breathing her, touching her, and hearing her; she was being engraved in your mind like stone; her body warmth was surrounding your body, making you feel hot and heavy.

Your lips left the comfort of hers to travel to her neck. "Please, just, fuck, just..." she mumbled.

Abby’s head was empty; your body was caging her between the couch, and the way your lips were kissing her soft, velvet skin made her sigh dreamily and made your core ache in agony.

But this wasn’t about you; it was about her.

You started spreading little bites that made her whimper, just so you could smooth out the ache on her red and burning skin afterwards with your tongue, licking on the spots where a mark would be noticeable tomorrow.

 You guided Abby to your bed, stumbling into the furniture of your little apartment, and then kicking open the door of your bedroom. Abby sat on your bed, her lips only leaving yours just to tear her shirt and pants away, leaving her only in her fucking black boxers.

 The thing is, you’ve been fantasizing about that slutty piece of clothing since the first time you saw her waistband peeking over her jeans, just there, resting and calling you to tear them apart and make her yours there and then.

 She lays on your pillows, watching you discard your shirt on the floor. Your nipples perked up because of the sudden cold air that hit them.

 "You are so fucking beautiful," she said with her hands traveling to your hips, guiding you to rest on top of her again, now being her the one pressing kisses all over your chest and toying with the hem of your pajama shorts.

 "I know pretty one, but let’s focus on you, shall we?" And with a sudden move, you made Abby straddle you while you rested with your back on the headboard.

 You kissed her, and a long whine came out of Abby’s lips. Ready to give her some relief, you grabbed her hips, guiding her to grind her clothed cunt on your bare thigh.

 "Holy fuck!" It was sparkling; it literally felt like the sparks that come out of a lighter before the flame comes out to burn everything on its path.

 "You like that, huh? You desperate little thing, you love this." Abby never felt more turned on by someone; it was like heaven—like a perverted, hot, and burning heaven—shit that sounded more like hell, but if hell felt this good, she would be the biggest sinner of all just so she could feel you again.

 Her movements started to become erratic; she moved faster and harsher; her mouth started to let out little moans and profanities; and your skin was now soaked and dripping just from Abby’s fluids.

 "You want to cum pretty one? You deserve this one bibi come on," and with that, a long moan came out of her mouth, your hands guiding her to ride her high.

 "Shit, shit, shit, you are so fucking hot," she said, leaning for more kisses, but you dodged her face.

 "No uh, lay for me, Abs. Be a good girl." She watched you with doe eyes as she complied, slowly laying in your mattress below you once again. You swear that you have never seen her like this, so compliant and at your mercy. You swore that if you struck a knife on her stomach right now mercilessly, she would accept it and thank you for it. She was in awe of you.

 Her mind cleared again when the cold air hit her soaking cunt, and she became aware that you had just removed her boxers and were now staring at that pretty and glistening pussy she had.

 "Is this okay?" you asked, seeing how she looked at you like a deer in headlights.

 "Yes, just do it, please." The agony in her voice became visible when she stuttered the confirmation. You came closer to her face, leaving some soft and slow kisses all over her face

 "Okay, Abs, what do you want me to do?" You said it with the most innocent and indecent tone of yours.

 "Wha- what?" She stumbled over the words because, holy fuck, you were unreal.

 "Yes, Abby, what do you want me to do?" You said slowly parting her legs with your knee, pressing it in her cunt, and start grinding it slowly just to tease the whiny mess you had underneath.

 "Your mouth, your fingers, I want you; please, I want you in me," she finally said, rushing the words out of her mouth.

 "Your wish is my command, pretty girl." With that, you kissed your way down, sucking a little bit her nipples and leaving hickeys all over her chest. You made it to her cunt, slowly kissing the inside of her legs.

 "Fuck, please y/n, please just do something." God, she was so needy.

 You licked a line from her entrance all the way to her clit. She was squirming, so you grabbed her hips aggressively, pinning her to the bed. A loud moan coming from her mouth was your cue to start devouring her cunt like a starved woman, your hands applying bruising strength to her hips to keep her steady while you ate her out in the most ungodly way you knew.

 Feeling how wet she was, you slipped two fingers into her, knocking the air out of her lungs. You began curling them at her spongy spot, playing with the pace, and then you added your mouth to the equation.

 It was too much, but also not enough, and also perfect. Abby’s hand found its way to your hair, gripping it tightly as the other one covered her mouth to muffle her loud moans.

 "Hey no, I want to hear your beautiful sounds, ok? So loose the hand or I’ll have to tie it to the headboard" you said, not liking a little bit how hard she was trying to not make a sound. It was your fucking apartment; if your neighbors had any complaints, they could shove it up their asses. Hell, even if it was God and Satan themselves, they could religiously go suck a dick if they were bothered.

 Your unholy pace kept going alongside your delirious way to eat cunt, and hearing Abby moan your name like she was trying to carve it in the walls was a fucking dream come true

 And then she felt it—the knot forming in her stomach, begging to be untied. The sweat made loose strands of her hair stick to her forehead, the reflex of her hips buckling upwards towards the stimuli, begging for more. The primal instinct to let out the most beautiful whines and moans you'd ever heard, and the urge to bury your face deeper into her cunt just so she could let all that pressure in her core out in that sweet and strong release she was hoping for.

 Your eyes traveled upwards, and you saw Abby's face, eyes completely shut down with tears threatening to fall out, all her face contorted with her brows furrowed, and you knew she was there.

 "It's okay, pretty one. You can just let go; it's fine," you said. Abby gasped at the sudden loss of contact while you spoke, but then this sudden feeling of pleasure traveled from her body to her core, making her legs shake and the grip she had in your hair become even harsher. "It's okay, Abby. You can let go," and with this came the orgasm she was begging God to have.

 Her cum dripping all over your chin, you helped her ride her high, slowly decreasing the pace your fingers had at her now-abused hole until you saw her visibly relax all the muscles in her body, flopping onto the mattress.

 With a last kiss on her puffy clit, you made your way up her body, scanning all the marks you left in her hips from the strength you were using to hold her down and the purplish hickeys forming all over her breasts, proving how good you made her feel.

 You kissed away all those tears, showering her face with kisses while whispering sweet nothings and compliments. And then, finally, you kissed her lips with such tenderness, as if she were made of porcelain and you were afraid of breaking her, a complete contrast to your first kiss of the night.

 Abby's hand traveled to cup your cheek, while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. She had just experienced her first orgasm during sex, and the entire time, she felt loved and cared for by you, making her weak in the knees.

 You pulled away, looking expectantly into her eyes. "So, how was it?" you asked, a little grin forming on your lips.

 Abby was so enamored with the view of you on top of her, breathing heavily, blushing cheeks, all sweaty and perfect, that she couldn't speak. She tried your lips just today, and just as quickly as it sounds, she became obsessed with how perfectly your entire existence fit with hers, making her feel complete and incredibly good.

 After cleaning up, you lay facing upwards with Abby nestled beside you, burying her face in your neck. Abby was a big, intimidating, and dominant woman most of the time, but sometimes she just wanted someone to take care of her, just as she took care of everyone else. And you were that someone. Tonight, with her whole body pressed into you and your digits tracing shapes on her bare back, you thought while pressing your lips to her forehead.

 

Hell yeah, I could get used to this.

Tags: @cvqii @akinui

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[boobabietch]

Currently writing the steal my girl inspired shot for Paige but I need motivation to finish it before I start school again, so I’m posting this in hopes that it will push me enough to finish it asap 🫠🫠🫠