#but oh stars was it a fun trip

[crymeariveronceagain]

thoughts on Orwell's 1984 because it took me 2.5 months but i actually got all the way through it!

oh my gosh this book is going to live in my head for an eternity

Orwell is a fantastic writer, and I really enjoyed his style. It's all very intense, and the vibe is a constant intensity. There are very few moments without a sense of being watched, without a feeling that doom lurks just on the horizon, and when, in the rare moments where that feeling of paranoia fades and peace begins to set in, he subverts it, and that's the moment something leaps out of the shadows. It's masterfully crafted and really well done.

This book is extremely obviously about socialism, and the dangers of moral relativism and historical revisionism. Sure, you can throw in other messages too, about like cult worship, secret societies, whatever. But Orwell put this world together as a criticism of the ideas of socialism and socialist ideology. He's clearly an anti-socialist, which makes complete sense, based on his background, life, and his other works, what we know about him, and even this story.

1984 follows this guy, who literally is just some guy, as he figures out he has a brain and he doesn't want to scream in hatred when he's told to.

Okay, speaking of, the amount of parallels that can be drawn from this book to society is disturbing. Like even if we go off of the idea of the "Two Minutes Hate", which is the daily time in which everyone is organized to basically yell at the person society has chosen to hate, that day, one can easily draw parallels between that and say all of social media electing to hate on this person today, that person tomorrow, ruin their life, and then move on. It's disturbing.

Also, a lot of Orwell's thesis statement in this book is on the idea of language and how it's connected to thought. He has this idea that one can only truly think a thought if one has the words to describe that thought, and if one cannot name the feelings, one cannot really be having the feelings. It's a horrifying concept, but one that basically every person needs to keep in mind. The vocabulary you possess controls how and what you think. What you cannot name, you cannot know, you cannot see, you cannot truly understand.

So like, one thing this book really tries to tell you is to pay attention to the words you use. Why do you use them? How do you use them? Where did you learn them? What are their origins? Etc etc, because, really, whoever controls the language controls the minds of the people who uses it.

I thought the romance was horribly unromantic, and it really drove the point home about the mental state of both Winston(just some guy) and Julia. Their being in a relationship is in and of itself an act of rebellion against those who want to abolish everything.

The whole point of this book really really comes back to, over and over, this idea of power. Who has it, who should have it, how it works, why people want it, blah blah blah. It's done spectacularly. You reach the last page and you sit there like "Dang. What did I just read."

Big Brother, also, is a super interesting concept that's used in the book, and I must say the idea that eyes are always watching you and might be listening to you reminds me of all those "Hello FBI guy who lives in my laptop computer and watches my search histories" memes. But in a trippier way. Anyways. Just a thought.

The total lack of privacy is so prominent in the book. Every private moment sticks out like a breath of fresh air.

If you're going to read this book, like, one thing to remember is that a) nothing is what it seems, and also b) the Party REALLY KNOWS WHAT IT'S DOING. Never think that they just say things. Never think that they don't know what's going on. Never think for even one moment that they don't know what they're doing. Because if you think that, you're making the same mistake as the main character.

The last chunk of the book is really hard to read, honestly, from a reading perspective, just because it's so psychologically intense. It's this sort of conversion process, trying to turn our beloved Winston(just some guy) into the perfect party member before they kill him. The whole torture, interrogation, conversion process is deeply grimy. It feels like walking down a tunnel but knowing there isn't light at the end. But you hang onto your hope. It's all you've got at this point.

You know that there's no way to make it out of this situation. But you keep reading in hope.

Also, the main bad guy starts monologuing. Reveals his whole evil plan. Which makes you grossed out in your own mind and makes you want to throw the book out the airplane window. It's masterfully written, and Winston is so interesting to watch, because he's the perfect person to empathize with. You wonder how long you could hold up. You wonder how long it would take you to crumble. And really, inside, you know you're crumbling with Winston. You go through the horrors of his imprisonment, and you reach the end of the book.

You can tell it's the end. If you're paying attention, you'll catch how they ruin him all the way. You'll see the moment that lets you know he's done. He's exactly where they want him.

He's renounced his beliefs, fallen in line perfectly. He's done exactly what they want. And now, now they could do exactly what they want with him.

He doesn't die. I'm going to tell you that much.

But the end of the book makes you wonder how much you are Winston. How much of your life is spent doing what every party member does. How long you've got before the interrogation starts. How long before they treat you like a heretic who needs to renounce their heresy, spit upon it, curse it, all the way while they walk to their stake.

The end of the book is sad. It is hopeless. But it is very, very real. The realest thing in this book is its ending.

The last line clenches your stomach like nothing else in the entire novel.

[firstroseofspring]

dr. b'elanna torres phd! (eventually) she got first place in the 35th annual planet-wide science fair but she nearly knocked kessik's moon out of orbit so she was asked not to return the next year

[top10statuesthatcriedblood]

my one accomplishment this year was staying somewhat consistently happy ill be grateful for that at least! may 2024 be even more bountiful

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

I haven’t eaten much today

I had fruit and yoghurt and the rest of a cream bun in the morning

Ate a couple of pakoras when I got home. Had a custard bun.

I haven’t eaten like. A proper meal

I was tired after cooking dinner (grilled chicken sandwiches) but I had gotten up to force myself to eat

And then I realise

That thing that flicked onto the garden door when I pushed my cat off the bin

That I cleaned up

*was a worm writhing about that had come from his tail*

Like

A white, slimy, small parasite worm

I’m not typically that squeamish. I didn’t gag or anything, but my appetite which was tenuous to begin with, is gone.

It’s also the fact that I’m tired and very fed up with my family today, even more so now that this has happened because it’s going to be my time (which is already packed) used up to take the cat to the vet

As well as getting the bloody deworming pills for myself

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 02:33 P.M 」

based on this video. this idea has been rotting in my brain for some while :') dad gojo will always have a soft spot in my heart <3

a part of gojo's love entries

your baby’s first trip to aquarium was such a cute affair you were sure you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“waaa~” your baby’s eyes were gleaming with wonder as he gazed at the diverse array of colorful fishes above him, completely captivated by the view.

and your husband...

“aren’t they pretty, hmm?” satoru asked his adorable son with a grin, pecking his cheek and holding him snugly in the baby carrier against his chest, with a backpack of baby essentials strapped on his back.

he was the very vision of a domestic dad, and along with your son, who was dressed in a bear onesie, complete with two little ears, they made a really irresistible pair. even you couldn’t fault the crowd for staring at them.

“fwaa! waa~” your munchkin was squirming with joy, his tiny fingers stretching out towards the sight before him. satoru giggled, moving closer to the glass to give his baby a better view.

“look! that’s clownfish! and those wiggly flowers are anemone! and that is—”

he faltered at a fish passing in his view before deciding, “this— i don’t know, but it’s the clownfish’s friend!”

they are basically the same. your little boy and your husband, both of them clearly shared a brain cell as they happily pointed out different fishes.

“meh! hehe!” your baby babbled away, excited and incredibly happy in his father’s hold, and satoru too seemed to feel the same, as his eyes beyond that sunglasses crinkled.

“damn, my kid is so cute.”

suddenly he dived down and pretended to chew his pumpkin’s chubby cheeks, effectively making him squeal in glee.

and oh lord, the way your heart skipped a beat seeing that. it was so clear how much satoru adored your baby, and it made overwhelming warmth rush to your chest.

“he’s a good man,” an elderly lady beside you suddenly remarked, making you turn to her. “not many men do that for their kids.”

“he is…” you agreed with a shy smile.

“it’s a shame that you only have one baby,” the elderly man beside her—possibly her husband—added. “you’re still young and he is so good with them too.”

your heart swelled and would’ve already burst if it was possible. bashfully, you thanked the elderly pair as they went on their way.

and along the way, you received similar hushed comments and adoring looks—

“oh my! their baby is so cute!”

“how can such family exists?! the dad, mom, baby… all three of them are so good-looking!”

“such a hot dilf! can’t he divorce his wife and marry me instead? i’ll be his kid’s stepmother gladly!”

satoru pretended not to hear, but he clearly held back his laugh. you threw the school girl who carelessly blurted that a pointed look, making her scurry away.

and after the three of you were done walking around the aquarium, you stopped by the gift shop to get your baby his first fish pet.

your son suddenly became fussy, and satoru unclasped him from the carrier. “hmm? do you want mama?” he handed him over to you. “here, here~ mama wants to hold you too~”

as soon as your son was settled in your embrace, he giggled, and you couldn’t help but bounce him and coo. “do you have fun? you do, don’t you?”

it might not visible to others, but now satoru was staring at both of his reasons of being with literal stars in his eyes.

several years ago, he thought his life had stopped when his best friend negated his beliefs entirely, but you were there, holding his hand throughout it all. and then you married him— and then, you gave him a son to dote on.

you keep giving his life a new meaning. and he was thankful for that.

. . . meanwhile, you kept hearing whispers from a gaggle of girls in the next aisle, about how much of a dreamboat your husband in his blue shirt was and it was grating at your nerves so much that you pursed your lips into a total pout.

satoru thought you were the cutest, not even second to his baby, and he decided he wasn’t known for public decency anyway so he dived in and pecked your lips—dispelling any stray thoughts and making you flush in an instant.

“sato—!”

and before you could rebuke him, he whispered in your ear:

“so... baby number two, when?”

[kitasuno]

i'll keep every promise (if it's a promise with you) | oikawa tooru x reader

oikawa tooru has a bad habit of breaking promises and running from his first love. or: the four times oikawa breaks his promises and the one time he keeps one

( a / n ) - oh my god this is my magnum opus... my baby.. its a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff and a little slice of life. u go through ages 6 to 28 LMFAO. iwaizumi + you + oikawa were such a fun trio to write for and i hope u guys enjoy !!

gn! reader | 2k words | happy birthday OIKAWA

Oikawa Tooru has a guilty conscience and a bad habit of breaking his promises. 

For every promise made and every promise broken, Tooru repents: 200 yen slid in a saisen-bako, a ninety degree bow, two wishes at a shrine. An offering to counter every promise he breaks, ample water to wash away his sins, and apologies written on wood.

 ( Iwaizumi has made the grand suggestion of: Maybe not breaking your promises? on several occasions, but Tooru can’t help it. ) 

He’s broken four promises and made eight wishes so far: four on blue Tanzaku and four atop Ema boards, followed with a prayer and an offering if the promise broken was particularly heinous or particularly his fault. 

He breaks his first promise at six years old– one made with you and Iwaizumi when the three of you were four and freshly neighbors. It was Tooru’s birthday, and he had promised this: 

I swear that I will take us all to the Ryokan before I turn six.

It’s a small promise: one that neither you nor Hajime had expected him to follow through with. But Tooru believed it, and Tooru had tried. He takes every single chore and odd job in the Oikawa household, scraping together a two-year-old Ryokan trust fund with mismatched coins and crumpled bills. He saves his allowances and puts everything in a glass jar next to his bed, and dreams.

Two Julys pass. Oikawa blows out four candles and then five, the jar gets bigger, you start Elementary school, and you and Hajime forget about the Ryokan. And then, on the third July, when Tooru turns six, you and Iwaizumi find Tooru mumbling about a broken promise— courtesy of his failure to take the three of you on an all inclusive trip to that Snow Monkey Ryokan that Iwaizumi wanted to go to. 

So he apologizes through prayers at a shrine and two wishes under a red Torii gate. It’s a thirty five stair climb to the neighborhood shrine: Hajime and Tooru race up and you come last, but the view is gorgeous and Tooru feels considerably less guilty.

It is 100 yen for each wish on a colored paper strip. Hajime says they’re called Tanzaku. Hajime drops one coin, Tooru drops four, you drop two. Seven thunks, four wishes. 

Tooru gets the honor of tying your tanzaku on bamboo branches as the tallest of your trio, and with it, the honor of reading your wishes.

Iwaizumi’s wish is messy and scrawled on bright red— Tooru tells him to Please work on your handwriting, but it’s legible and all well wishes for volleyball and you and Oikawa and cicadas.

Tooru’s got two wishes— a cyan one and a turquoise one, but he only lets you and Hajime read the cyan one. His cyan one is a little neater than Iwaizumi’s and reads:

Sorry I couldn’t take us to the Monkey Ryokan. 

He hangs the red one on his tippy-toes. Cyan next. Hajime cheers a little when Tooru hangs turquoise next to your pink one, and then asks: 

“Whaddya need two wishes for anyways?” 

He shrugs. 

“Guilty conscience, maybe?”

You’re thirteen when Tooru promises that he is going to ask you out in two years. Tooru is not allowed to date until he’s in high school, so he tells you under a blanket of stars that when the two of you are a little older, he will ask you out properly and maybe take you on a date. 

He walks you to school every morning. Hajime comes too, but the pink skies before the sun rises are for you and Tooru. Moments before you make it to Iwaizumi’s block are moments that Tooru gives you his scarf, and then his gloves, and when the wind bites at your cheeks too hard his jacket is draped over your shoulders. On rainy days, Tooru holds the umbrella and laughs as your fingers brush and your cheeks flush. Some mornings he brings you toast: and tells you in hushed whispers to eat it before Iwa-Chan sees. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi walk you home after cram school and volleyball practice. Hajime’s house is first— so Iwaizumi bows first, heads back inside first, waves goodnight first. When the door closes and the light turns on, the black sky and twinkling stars are for you and Tooru. He always says Good Night saccharine sweet with a smile like the sun that makes you feel like you really can’t wait to turn fifteen. 

Oikawa blows out fourteen candles. The three of you graduate in blue and walk home like usual. Summer passes, another July goes by, Oikawa blows out fifteen candles, and high school starts.

You learn several things in your first year at high school: you really like the student council, Hajime is actually pretty smart, and Tooru is afraid of commitment. 

Tooru is popular: he is athletic and tall and the Volleyball Club’s golden first year. He smiles at the girls in his class, he slings arms around their shoulders, he winks when he passes by the student council room, and he preens a little and shines a lot.

Oikawa is fifteen when he goes on his first date with a girl from another school: and when he tells you and Iwaizumi after he gets home, he plays dumb as Hajime gives him a look and takes you home, overhearing Iwaizumi’s apologies and your crestfallen voice as you say something about a promise.

Oikawa’s chest hurts that night so he walks to the shrine with 200 yen in his pocket and a sorry scrawled on two pieces of colored Tanzaku. 

Oikawa turns sixteen and goes to the shrine again. 

This time, it’s a broken promise with a girl in his class. She was popular– she smelled like cotton candy and reminded Tooru of strawberries and daisies, so when she asked Tooru out, he had said Sure, and he had smiled like she was the sun. 

But he’s a bad boyfriend– a terrible boyfriend– because he’s only there when it’s convenient and he ditches her for volleyball practice and maybe sometimes he catches himself thinking about a certain childhood friend when she holds his hand and buys him milk bread at lunch. 

She was sweet and she was terribly pretty, but he doesn’t feel anything when she kisses him or when she rests her head on his shoulder.

Iwaizumi asks him what he’s running from after practice one day. Tooru knows Iwaizumi is asking why he is running from you. 

Tooru is a little scared of how you make him feel too much. Oikawa likes being in control and Oikawa likes stability, so when he realizes that his heart thumps erratically whenever you’re around and he finds himself all consumed with thoughts of you and a burning desire to please you; he rejects and refrains. And runs.

His girlfriend dumps him after a few months. Tooru says sorry, removes her phone contact, and faintly remembers a promise he made with her four weeks ago. 

I swear I’m not in love with someone else. 

from: tooru (23:20) shrine time!!! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

from: hajime (23:21) You broke another promise?? Ur a piece of shit lol

from: tooru (23:22) iwaaa chan U￣ｰ��U  ur so mean !

from: you (23:24) bro . don’t tell me it was about ur ex ur a manwhore !!!!

from: hajime (23:25) Average Shittykawa moment

from: tooru (23:25) i can’t help it !! (✿ ♥‿♥)  everyone wants a piece of me !!! ill pick u guys up and we’ll go to the shrine and ramen after plsss ☆

from: hajime (23:26) Ur treat?

from: tooru (23:27) iwa-chan’s treat !! i’m going through a nasty breakup, remember ? \_( ◉ 3 ◉ )_/¯

from: you (23:29) hajime we know his address we can burn his room down

from: tooru (23:30) OK FINE my treat! it’s on me!!! everyone say thank you tooru !!!

from: hajime (23:31) thank you tooooruuu chan (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

tooru and y/n reacted with: Scared !

from: tooru (23:32) um please don’t do that ever again

Oikawa’s fourth promise is one to himself and one to Seijoh. 

We will make it to Nationals. 

He doesn’t leave his room for a week when he breaks it. He’s inconsolable. He says he’s sick: he’s got a bad fever, it’s contagious, he’s bedridden, he’s fine. But the lights are never on in his room, his curtains are always drawn, and you know that Tooru devoted everything for a chance and a dream and a volleyball. 

He comes to you first. He’s standing in your doorway and there are bags under his eyes and he says, Hi, and then, I’m fine. He tries for a smile— and then you give him a look, and suddenly he’s in your arms and sobbing. 

He cries for two hours. Tooru ugly cries– his chest racks when he sobs and his arms are tight around you and digging into your back. Oikawa Tooru is not weak: but he is not a prodigy.  

He falls asleep in your bed with his head in your lap and your hands in his hair, but his eyebrows are furrowed and he’s shifting a lot and he’s probably having a nightmare. You call Hajime before gently shaking Tooru awake. 

He blinks up at you— all puffy eyes and tousled hair and swollen cheeks, but he sees you and he softens.

“Wanna go to the shrine?”

Iwaizumi still grumbles the whole way up the thirty five steps, but he’s quiet as Oikawa slips two coins into the saizen-bako. Hajime wraps an arm around your shoulder as the coins rattle in the box and you know he’s upset too— his hands are slightly shaking and he keeps sniffing. Nationals might have been Oikawa’s dream but Iwaizumi was also a dreamer, and sure, Oikawa was going to go, but they were going to go together.

Tooru hangs two Ema boards and for the first time, he bows at the Honden. Two claps. Head down and hands together as he prays. Iwaizumi joins him: and you watch as Oikawa apologizes to him and Hajime shakes his head- because it was Hajime’s promise too. 

Oikawa is twenty-eight and on a plane when he finally keeps his first promise. 

It’s a small promise: but a promise nonetheless, one that he made before he left for Argentina. He tells you he loves you at the airport but he has his boarding pass in one hand and his passport in the other. And you tell him you love him too, but also that he’s being unfair, and no you won’t go out with him. And Oikawa knew you would say that, but he still finds himself making a promise– a promise you laugh at because Oikawa Tooru never keeps his promises.

If we’re still single in ten years, I’m going to find you, and I’m going to ask you out. 

You cry, and Tooru wraps his arms around you and cries too— and then Iwaizumi’s there, and Iwaizumi’s crying, and you don’t know which part of you is Oikawa or Iwaizumi. Oikawa leaves for Argentina with a heavy heart but a hunger for the future. 

In the ten years that pass he plays a lot of volleyball. He tans a lot. He learns some Spanish. He tries beach volleyball. And then, he buys a plane ticket on his birthday. 

from: y/n (21:12) happy birthday tooru !! me n hajime r having an honorary drink for u. hope ur having fun in argentina!!! hajime and i say te amo !!!!

from: tooru (21:15) i’d like a hot sake plssss thank u!!! ( ˙▿˙ )

from: y/n (21:15) LMFAO. no. me and haji r drinking ASAHI DRRRRRRYYYYYYYY for u bro also hajime got BUFF wat the hell hope ur tanning good in argentina 

from: tooru (21:16) well tell BUFF iwa chan that ill be there in 5 and i want a HOT SAKE and also YES i tanned good SO EYES OFF IWAIZUMI

from: y/n (21:17) ? what? ur funny lol … TOORU?

Tooru is twenty eight and might retire soon. Thirty five stairs is too many to climb and keeping promises is far more fun than breaking them. So he taps your shoulder, hands Iwaizumi your bouquet, and takes your cheeks in his palms to tilt your chin over. 

“Hi!” He says. 

 Tooru bends down to kiss you. 

[lottiies]

LIKE A LITTLE PIECE OF HEAVEN

→ Sneaking around with your grandparents’ ranch hand during the summer!

CW: x Fem!reader with she/her pronouns, starts with fluff and turns into smut, switch!Leon, dry humping, cowgirl, butterfly (i think that’s the position name?), fingering, short hold the moan snippet, reader wears a sundress at one point, mention of a palm injury via a cut

WC: 1.8k

NOTE: written just for fun to entertain myself during an excruciatingly long car ride, sorry that it’s fast paced </3 title lyric is from ‘tulsa jesus freak’ also i tried my best at a southern accent for him okay

MASTERLINK

You always complained whenever your parents sent you on your annual trip to your grandparents’ place. Mosquitoes ran rampant and a prayer whilst holding hands was mandatory before every meal. Summer was supposed to be a break so you could be lazy in bed all day, but now you had to go help tend to the animals.

Sure, farm animals are cute and all…but gushing over how adorable they are is much different from actually taking care of them. So much for that ‘Charlotte’s Web’ childhood dream of yours, none of the pigs are like Wilbur!

But you had a change of attitude when you went the summer after your freshman year of college. Upon your arrival, your suitcase was hauled by strong skin-kissed hands, like if your packed belongings weighed a mere pound.

Looking up, your eyes met irises that rivaled the beauty of the ocean.

Oh.

You almost had to physically lift your jaw back up to introduce yourself. Then you ran upstairs to bury your face into your pillow.

Leon Kennedy. Would his last name suit your first name? Or vice versa? Jesus.

That first summer was full of fleeting glances and flirtatious conversation. There was something romantic about being in a space far away from civilization. Like you were in your own little universe with him whenever the two of you snuck around. During dinners, you always nudged at his leg with your boot to mess with him, liking the way he cleared his throat to ward off a smile.

And maybe you relied on silly methods to see if your feelings for him were reciprocated.

Pluck.

He likes me.

Pluck.

He likes me not.

Pluck.

He likes me.

Pluck.

He likes me not.

Pluck. Last one.

He likes me!!!

Childish excitement coursed through you, an instantaneous smile on your face. You thanked Mother Nature for giving you the answer you wanted.

You also thanked the Sun every day for gifting freckles to Leon. One day, you held onto his face and tried to count them all. Squinting your eyes, you counted aloud, missing the way he looked at you with nothing but sweetness in his gaze.

The world around you was muted, as if the cows standing behind the fence had stopped mooing just for the sake of your concentration.

“Sure this is gonna work? Listen, I’ve always been an optimistic fella but—“

“Shh, you’re distracting me.” After a beat, you groaned. “Fuck I lost count. Okay, hold still for real this time.”

“Sure, doll.” She’s real cute, he thought to himself.

Or that one time when the Sun’s beams were too hot and made Leon take his hat off so he could pour a fresh bucket of water on his head. You felt so betrayed at the sight.

“You’re shitting me!”

“What?”

“Your roots…” Not very polite, but you pointed at his hair. “I thought you were blonde. Like, born blonde.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He hid his amusement with a shrug, lowering his head to give you a better look. “Haven’t had time to dye it.”

And of course, you owed the Moon some gratitude for being an audience member to a memory you cherished. If said memory could be physically stored, you’d keep it on a frame so you could rewatch the moment your relationship blossomed.

The confession came when two heartbeats aligned, two bodies snuggled against each other on top of the roof. Leon gazed at you as if you hung up the stars and moon that were beautifully assorted in the sky, the same ones he had admired all alone prior to you coming here. He never thought he’d have a pretty woman wanting to get to know him.

“This is crazy…I can actually see the constellations out here.” Your words were a murmur, the glimmering dots above reflecting in your pupils.

“And ya couldn’t back at home?”

“Pfft. With all the pollution in the city? Not a chance.”

“Yeah? Mus’ be a special night for ya, then.”

It was. But not because of the view, rather, because of the handsome guy holding you close like you were his girlfriend.

“Yeah, it is.”

A hat was placed onto your head. His hat.

You broke your admiration of the stars, turning to look at him instead. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, suddenly his hand was cupping the side of your face. His skin was scarred and calloused against yours, a physical manifestation of how different his lifestyle was from yours.

Books always made it seem like butterflies would be swarming in your stomach at moments like these. But you felt calm. This was fate, it was supposed to happen. And who were you to deny the universe’s pull and Cupid’s arrow?

Leon was a gentleman first and foremost. “Can I…?”

“Mhm.”

Your first kiss was witnessed by the moon.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

You kept in touch through letters. Leon was old fashioned, and very rarely did he pick up his cheap flip phone when you tried giving him a call. Something about his phone always being stored away, he hardly used the thing anyway. He already had the task of picking up the mail, so it wasn’t like your grandpa or grandma would get it.

You didn’t mind much. There was something endearing about sending letters, running to the mail like you were a dog fetching the weekly newspaper. It was hard to imagine his voice sometimes when reading his letters because he wrote all properly, it didn’t match his accent.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to send another letter. I accidentally cut my hand when fixing up a fence and it took a while to heal, it left a scar. I’m okay though, promise. Just don’t want you to think I forgot about you or anything like that. Your grandpa was real nice about it, he gave me some time off, he’s got a kind heart. And your grandma kept cooking up some soup…said it would help me heal quicker. Not sure if it’s true, but it left my stomach happy and that counts for something.

The entire time I was resting, I found myself thinking of you. Would you have patched my hand up if you were here? Kissed my pain away?

Every time I look at the moon, I wonder if you are too.”

You always traced over his handwriting with an unclicked pen before proceeding to leave a kiss mark on the corner of the page and putting it in your stored pile.

Summer became the highlight of your years. You actually packed cute clothes now, flowy sundresses and some matching undergarments you wouldn’t mind Leon seeing. Of course, you also bought some riding gear, wanting to partake in his hobbies too.

The instant you were back at the farm and the two of you were alone, Leon grabbed you by the hips and pressed you up against the outdoor wall of the house, smiling at you all coyly.

“Missed ya. Shoulda jus’ stayed here with me.”

“Thought you liked me for pursuing a higher education?” Your grin matched his. Maybe after you got your degree you’d join him more often.

“Mhm.” God, that intellect of yours was sexy. He could listen to you ramble about your ambitions for ages. “Wish that college of yers was nearby, though.”

“That makes two of us…I missed you too, by the way.” Your lips inched closer to his. “A lot.”

His cheeks turned roseate, his heart thumping as fast as the hooves of a bronco at a rodeo. “…Yeah?”

“Don’t sound so unsure! Need me to show you?”

“I’d appreciate that, y’know how I am.” Leon wasn’t the most self assured, having been worried you’d find some college guy to get with.

All it took was some more sweet talking and daring touches on your end before he hoisted one of your legs up with your permission, the fabric of your dress lifting and bunching around your hips, the plush of your ass pressed against the weathered down paint of the walls.

He let you set the pace, keeping you steady as you bucked your hips against him, your panties soaking from the friction of his rough denim jeans. Your mouths clashed messily out of pent up desperation.

It didn’t go farther than dry humping, though.

Leon made sure your first time with him was more planned out, not wanting it to be in some confined space or rushed. You rode him until dawn, your knees meeting the soft blanket he laid down against the grass with each roll of your hips.

“Ah ah ah. Slow, sweetheart, slow.” He pleaded in a throaty voice, you were killing him, milking him over and over.

“Fuck…okay.” You slowed your pace, your breaths mingling when you rested your forehead against his.

“That’s it. Like that.”

And after that, there were more spontaneous times.

You wanted to get dicked down on your mattress so that’s what Leon gave you, if only your bed wasn’t so fucking squeaky. He had to put pillows behind your headboard.

“Shh…gotta be quiet f’me.” His hand covered your mouth, muting the moans that almost spilled from your mouth.

Leon wouldn’t live to see another day if his boss found his sweet granddaughter’s ankles hugging his neck and her toes all curled.

You ran your nails against his scalp, turning his hair into a mess, taking advantage of the fact he didn’t have a hat indoors. He bit down on his lip harshly to prevent himself from groaning aloud. Yeah, he had to climb out your window after that.

You almost got caught once inside one of the rundown abandoned stalls that was in need of some fixing. You were sitting betweens Leon’s spread legs, his hand down your pants. His palm gently smacked your clit with every push of his fingers inside your cunt. Open-mouthed kisses grazed your neck, making you loll your head to the side.

If only your granddaddy hadn’t interrupted.

“Son, ya in here?” Some incoherent grumbles before he got to the point, thankfully giving you some time to smack Leon’s hand away, snickering at the expression on his face — like he was about to be put six feet under. “Need yer help with the pipe I was tellin’ ya about earlier.”

“‘m on it.” Leon called out after pecking your lips, but there was a crack in his voice that left you silently giggling as he got up and wiped his fingers on his pants. He seemed so embarrassed, sparing you an apologetic glance and then tipping his hat down to hide his flustered expression from his boss.

But who knows, your grandparents adored Leon. One day he’d muster up the courage to tell them he was sweet on you, or maybe they’d catch the two of you holding hands under the dinner table.

Either way, you were no mere summer fling, and he let that be known by adorning your finger with a shiny promise ring.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Alright so one of the DCxDP Aus:

It's vaugley inspired by another post I can't find where Amity jumps around the country and sometimes field trips turn into week long road trips. Only vague because I saw: Fentons make the school buses turn into alien invasion shelters and brain went burrrrrrrr.

Anyways, so Superman is fighting off against aliens who have kryptonite. He's trying his best but he's failing, he can't get up.

Meanwhile, a school bus full of kids are watching. Amity Park, after their own world nearly killed them all being led by the GIW who managed to convince everyone ghosts were evil, had displaced itself and now bounces around dimensions. Usually it stays for a week so it's safe enough for trips but this time it didn't. No big, Danny can sense a portal in a city called Gotham so they were on their way when BANG invasion.

Danny thinks it's fun and frankly so does everyone else but Lancer who is exhausted.

Then they see Superman being hurt and…

Danny’s Obsession is both Protection and Space. They know Superman is an alien. He is the Ghost King and the class has become his Fraid through time. They all feel the need to protect.

So they do.

Danny bursts out of the bus first as Phantom and starts blasting. Sam is next, vines erupting from the ground to grab and drag aliens away, one of which she drags to Tucker so he can steal their tech to start hacking. Paulina is out with teeth bared and breathing fire, scales appearing. Dash is using his enhanced strength as Kwan using his super speed. Other kids pour out fighting. Then Star shouts: “KRYPTONITE IS HARDENED ECTOPLASAM! WE CAN EAT IT!”

The kids start snatching and chowing down as other heroes arrive. There are no adverse affects so they let the kids have their fun as they help Superman stand up.

At the end of the invasion, Mr. Lancer (who had come out to with a Blastor in hand) sighed. “Is there paperwork? We were trying to get to a portal in Gotham.”

Que: What?

Danny: “Yeah our home town we had to displace from our him dimension after they wanted to experiment on all of us. Amity pops up in a lot of universes and it's fun!”

Star: “Sometimes our field trips end with us finding the nearest portal though. Danny can find them.”

This just gets questions but like, Lancer is filling out paperwork and the teens are chatting with heroes happily so it ends up they just kind of roll with it.

The conversations are weird though.

Danny: “Ranking for this world?”

Sam: “Top ten. Not higher then Faerun.”

Tucker: “You just liked how you got involved in that one cult and helped summon a Nature God to murder a bunch of polluters.”

Sam: “And?”

Paulina: “I like that one world where everyone had some sort of power. That Midoriya kid was cute. To bad we got caught before we could sneak him on the bus.”

Lancer: “No kidnapping anyone to Amity!”

Tucker: “I liked the time we ended up on that one planet- Palaven? That was fun.”

Danny: “Yeah it was!”

The kids move on and Batman escorts them to Gotham. The portal turns out to be the Lazarus Pit (oh joy) and then life moves on.

Until a month later when Flash sees the kids at a Museum and learns Amity Park came back. The city begins hanging around more and we discoverAmith likes this dimension. It eventually settles near Gotham and Metropolis. Sometimes it vanishes but it always returns.

[starkwlkr]

May I request hugh and actress!reader w/ baby olivia on set pls (love your writing!!)

baby on board | hugh jackman

an: hi!! thank you for this request!! glad everyone is enjoying this series <3

X-Men: The Last Stand set

Baby Olivia was the star of the show. It was the last day on set of the latest X-Men and the Jackman family was visiting. While Alex and Reese took a nap in Hugh’s trailer, Hugh took Baby Olivia on a trip around the set. He showed her everything from the costume department to his chair with his name printed on the back.

“And that lovely lady is Famke. She plays Jean and in this movie she’s one of the bad guys, but don’t worry Famke is a sweetheart.” Hugh told Olivia as his co-star, Famke, approached the dad and daughter.

“Hi Olivia. Oh my god, you are so adorable!” Famke gasped when she saw Olivia wrapped in her pink blanket. “I’m guessing your boys are with their mother?”

“They’re all napping in my trailer. The flight here tired them out so for now it’s Olivia and me.” Hugh held his daughter close.

“I’ll let you two get back to your set tour. Bye, baby! I’ll see you later.” Famke blew a kiss to Olivia, who cracked a little toothless grin.

“Alright, miss Olivia, where to next?” Hugh looked around. Crew members smiled and waved to him as he passed by. They found it heartwarming and a little funny that Hugh, dressed as Wolverine, had a baby with him.

“Oh, look, that is a special chair. Wanna try it out?” Hugh looked around wondering if he would get in trouble for sitting on Charles Xavier’s chair. He didn’t see anyone stopping him so he sat on it with Olivia. Still holding his daughter close, he didn’t expect the chair to actually move when he moved the small lever forward.

“Woah, okay, hold on baby,” Hugh chuckled as he tried to steer the chair with one hand. He eventually got the hang of it and even made it to craft services where he found the owner of the chair. “Hope you don’t mind. Olivia wanted to take it for a spin.”

“Oh, don’t be like that! This beautiful girl can do what she wants!” Patrick Stewart laughed, waving at Olivia.

A crew member then came up to Hugh and Patrick holding a video camera. He recorded Hugh having fun with Olivia. After a while, Alex and Reese woke up from their nap and joined their dad and sister. Soon, Hugh had all his children on the chair, going from one room to the next and it was all captured on video. Years later, the same footage was used in the end credits for Deadpool & Wolverine, along with other behind the scenes footage.

@kellyxo1

[james-bucky-barnackle]

I mean?

Synopsis: On a press tour with your co-star Sebastian Stan, the interviewer asks you a question about another film he did and the answer surprises him.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Actress!Y/N

Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count.

A/N: Bro I am on a resurgence. Might just fuck around and continue writing more fanfics or whatever.

It’s another busy day promoting your new movie with Sebastian, The Road Trip. It's a funny romcom about two best friends going on a long trip to see another friend who your character is dating. Interestingly enough, the guy who plays him is Chris Evans. The interviews are currently being done in pairs, and you're with Sebastian.

You've always been candid, speaking your mind without feeling shy. Deep down, you're a bit of a pessimist, accepting things as they are. When you first heard from your agent that you were cast in The Road Trip alongside Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans, you laughed hysterically. The idea that you, an unconventional beauty, were chosen to be on screen with those two seemed surreal. You never really think about dating co-stars, which helps with acting in general. The media is impressed with how chill you are around A-list actors, and even though it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, the industry has started promoting you to that list.

The interview has been going on for about 15 minutes when another journalist joins, mostly asking about the experience of working with the cast.

“It’s my first romcom, can you believe it?” you say.

“First?!” Sebastian stares in mock disbelief.

“I know, right?!” You feign surprise.

The interviewer continues, “How does it feel to do something lighter and a bit comedic for once?”

“You mean, a movie where no one dies?” Sebastian covers his mouth at your response.

“I mean essentially,” the interviewer laughs. “Wait, no one dies?!” They nudge you playfully.

“I mean, I’m not sure, no spoilers,” you say, breaking the fourth wall and looking into the camera. Sebastian cackles. “It’s definitely refreshing. It feels like going to school for some reason. Like I don’t want to miss a class just because I might miss something wild happening.”

“What?” Sebastian glares. “What school did you go to?”

“I mean, aside from the learning stuff…” You grimace. “It’s fun, honestly. I’d love to do more romcoms. It’s very down-to-earth and just resonates with you so much. I don’t wanna get too cheesy, but I’m such a hopeless romantic—this is my jam.”

“Sebastian, how’s your experience working with Chris again, this time outside of the Marvel universe?”

“Wait, this isn’t in the Marvel Universe?!” you butt in. Sebastian again, fakes a loud gasp. You two laugh. This interview feels like it’s going nowhere.

“It’s totally fun, as Y/N mentioned—it really is like going to class. But most of my scenes are with Y/N, so she’s like the lab partner I’ve never had. Chris was always texting us, checking which location we’re going to be at, making sure we’re scheduled on the same day. It’s fun when we’re both on set.”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got a good rhythm going. It’s like having a little family on set. Plus, Chris is always the one who brings snacks, so that’s a bonus.”

Sebastian laughs. “Oh, absolutely. Chris and his endless supply of trail mix.”

The interviewer chuckles. “Sounds like you all have a great dynamic. Was there a favorite scene you both enjoyed filming together?”

You think for a moment. “I really loved the scene where we’re stuck in the car during that rainstorm. It was so chaotic, but we had a blast improvising and just playing off each other.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a good one. The rain machine was going full blast, and we were just trying not to crack up the entire time.”

The interviewer smiles. “It sounds like it was a lot of fun. And the chemistry definitely shows on screen. Speaking of different roles, Y/N, Sebastian’s been in the movie Fresh where he plays a sociopathic killer who preys on lonely women pretending to be a genuine guy.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” you say, laughing, as Sebastian shakes his head.

“Would you, like Noa, fall prey to Steve’s antics?” This question gets a louder laugh from Sebastian as your face shows pure shock. You hold him back with your hand and say,

“I’ve thought about this, to be honest,” you start, looking at Sebastian as he raises his eyebrows, impressed.

“Oh, you have?”

You laugh and continue, patting his thigh and looking back at the interviewer. “Me and my friend talked about it a while back. And it’s frightening because I would’ve probably ended up on a chopping block.”

“Noooo!” Sebastian shouts, “I was rooting for you.”

“No! But, like, you are incredibly good-looking and charismatic. It would be hard not to give my number at the grocery aisle.”

He tilts his head at your response. “Surely not good enough to get yourself killed?!”

“You’d be surprised how far I’d even go,” you say, as the interviewer laughs with you both. “Oh god, I need to call my therapist,” you add, ending the topic with the three of you gagging.

“Might just have to talk to mine too, after hearing that.”

You can already feel TikTok saving this clip and turning it into a meme.

You notice, after you call Sebastian good-looking, he’s been eyeing you sideways and biting his lip. As if he’s suddenly gone bashful. You can’t help but feel a boost in your ego. Could it be that Stan is shy? You make it a point to tease him for the remainder of the interview.

“What’s something funny or unexpected that happened on set?”

“Oh, there were so many moments,” you start. “One time, we were filming this really serious scene, and out of nowhere, a bird flew into the set and landed right on Sebastian’s shoulder.”

Sebastian laughs. “Yeah, I had no idea what to do. I just froze, and then Y/N started making bird noises to try and get it to fly away.”

You laugh, nodding. “It took a good ten minutes to get back into character after that. Everyone was cracking up.”

The interviewer grins. “That sounds hilarious. It’s great to hear that you all had such a good time. Speaking of moments on set, were there any funny or awkward moments while filming the more romantic or intimate scenes?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, plenty. Like the time we were shooting that kiss scene in the rain, and Y/N kept slipping on the wet pavement.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey, it was slippery! You were the one who can’t stop laughing during takes.”

Sebastian laughs. “True, true. But come on, we both know it was because you were so nervous about kissing me.” You notice him biting back.

You gasp in mock offense. “Excuse me, I was not nervous! I was just...distracted by how ridiculously good-looking you are. It’s hard to concentrate when you have that face right in front of you.” He smiles uncontrollably again, feeling defeated by your nonchalance. He wonders, how are you so good at this?

The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, who do you think had the hardest time keeping a straight face during those scenes?”

You both point at each other simultaneously, then laugh.

Sebastian leans back, shaking his head. “Definitely Y/N. There was this one scene where we were supposed to be having this deep, romantic conversation, and she just couldn’t stop giggling.”

You nudge him playfully. “Well, you weren’t helping with all your ad-libs! You kept whispering things like, ‘Is that your stomach growling or are you just happy to see me?’”

Sebastian laughs. “Hey, I was trying to lighten the mood! And let’s not forget the scene where we had to stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. I swear, Y/N, you blink more than anyone I know.”

You smirk. “Only because I was trying to avoid getting lost in those baby blues of yours.” At this point, Sebastian was laughing hard, but feeling nervous at your jokes. He secretly wished it were all real, his ears were red and hot. He’s already thinking of how to approach you after the interview and get himself out of the friend zone which he didn’t even thought he’d be in, having found a new interest in you. 

The interviewer looks between the two of you, amused. “It sounds like you both had a lot of fun with it. Do you think all that chemistry will translate to the screen?”

Sebastian nods. “Oh, definitely. I think our off-screen dynamic really helped make the on-screen relationship feel more genuine. Plus, Y/N here is an amazing actress. She made it easy.”

You smile, feeling a bit bashful. “Well, Sebastian’s not too bad himself. It’s hard not to enjoy working with someone who’s so talented and, let’s be honest, ridiculously attractive.” 

Here she goes again .Sebastian grins. “Right back at you. But let’s be real, we’re both just incredibly good-looking people trying to make a movie here.” The internet is gonna have a field day.

The interviewer laughs. “Sounds like a tough job! Any last funny or romantic moments you’d like to share?”

You think for a moment. “There was this one scene where we had to dance together. Neither of us are professional dancers, so there were a lot of missteps and toe-stepping. But it ended up being one of the sweetest scenes because it felt so real and unpolished.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a great scene. It was supposed to be this perfectly choreographed dance, but it turned into us just goofing around and having fun. I think it really captured the essence of our characters' relationship.”

The interviewer smiles, clearly delighted by your stories. “Well, thank you both for sharing these wonderful moments. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”

As you and Sebastian leave the interview room, you head towards the lobby where a few other cast members are mingling. The energy is still high from the fun and laughter of the interview. Sebastian nudges you playfully as you walk.

“Hey, remember in the interview when you called me incredibly good-looking and charismatic?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes, grinning. “Oh, come on. Don’t let it go to your head, Stan.”

He chuckles. “Too late. I’m pretty sure I’m going to bring that up every chance I get now.”

“You would,” you laugh, shaking your head. “ It’s not like I was lying.”

Sebastian stops walking, turning to face you. “Well, thank you. And for the record, you’re pretty incredible yourself. Both on screen and off.”

You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, putting a palm to your chest as if to continue the gag. “Thanks, Seb. That means a lot.”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “No, really, it’s been really great working with you. I think we make a pretty good team.”

“I think so too,” you agree, feeling a flutter in your stomach, you realize he’s actually serious now. There’s a moment of silence as you both just look at each other, the playful teasing from earlier now replaced with something more tender.

Sebastian breaks the silence first. “So, what do you say we celebrate wrapping up the promotion tour? Maybe dinner tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, teasingly. “Is this your way of asking me out, Stan?”

He grins, a little sheepishly. “Maybe it is. What do you think?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, then nod. “I think it sounds like a great idea.”

“Perfect,” he says, looking genuinely pleased. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Eight it is."

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[silken-moonlight]

Double Trouble (Nsfw) | Werewolf best friend x Vampire boyfriend x You

A/N: Its based on this post. So glad to be back tonight with this little fun piece. I love doing stuff like this and I hope you like it as much as I love writing it! - Swan/Moon

Spending time with your boyfriend and your best friend has always been somewhat difficult. Your boyfriend is a vampire, and your best friend is a werewolf. Trouble is guaranteed at some point, especially since your boyfriend, despite his long life, is self-conscious. He needs a lot of reassurance throughout the day and even more so in the bedroom. Your best friend, however, a tall and very attractive werewolf, is the polar opposite. He is incredibly confident, aware that he is good in bed, and flirty to the ends of the earth. Flirting with you like there was no tomorrow, smacking your ass or doing something stupid like moaning when your boyfriend called you.

They kind of hated each other, or so you thought. Just now, you came home and were greeted by the two of them, who looked at you mischievously. You didn't even expect them to be in your flat, especially not together. You had just come back from the bookstore and had gotten some iced coffee on the way back..

“Hey guys,” you greeted them. “Hey, sweetheart, how was your trip?” your boyfriend asked and strode over to you, kissing you deeply and passionately. You were surprised by this, since he rarely showed such affection in front of your best friend. You smiled, enjoying his sudden display of affection. Your curiosity, however, won out and you had to ask, “What are you guys up to? I didn’t know you would come over.” You asked. Your best friend grinned. “Oh, Count Dracula and I talked about our feelings and are friends now.” Your best friend always teased your boyfriend with the nickname ‘Count Dracula’. "Oh, you did?” you asked excitedly and happily. You would love for the two of them to get along and not constantly fight. Your boyfriend chuckled, “Something like that…You see, my beloved, he and I just want the very best for you. You’re always so sad when we fight, so we decided to make you…happy and be together.” He crooned and suddenly your best friend was behind you. “What do you say, baby?” your werewolf best friend asked you with his typical wolfish grin. You looked back and forth between them, your heartbeat quickening and a flush becoming visible on your face.

“You…you mean…?” You reassured me, you always wanted to have a threesome, maybe this was your chance. “Yes, we want to satisfy you together, make you see stars, little love.” Your boyfriend almost purred and kissed you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the passionate kiss you two shared. Suddenly you were pulled away, your best friend wanted to kiss you too. His lips caught yours, hands were on your hips and waist, feeling their way up and down. They pulled down your summer dress, leaving you in your underwear. Suddenly you were lifted up by your boyfriend, him rushing you into the bedroom. Your best friend trailed close behind. You only had a moment to breathe before they were on you together. You laid on your back, your boyfriend was behind you and his lips caressed your neck. He sucked hickeys onto your neck, marking you and fidgeting with your bra. Arousal began to for between your legs, this whole situation was utterly erotic.

Your best friend kneeled between your legs, watching you too. His hands found your panties and he dragged them down. “Gods you smell amazing.” He growled and kissed up your ankle, calf and thigh. You gasoedm watched him as your boyfriend began to massage and grope your breats. Your nipples stiffend at the attention, waiting to be played with. Your boyfriend stopped and grabbed the head of your best friend:”Stop teasing her and start pleasuring her.” Before pressing your best friends face into your pussy. Immediatly your werewolf best friend began to lick and lap at your pussy. Your lips parted as moans spilled out. You grinded slightly on his face, feeling so good at the attention. “Do you feel good?” Your boyfriend asked and you nodded, he grinned and leaned down to suck on your nipples. His other hand ravished your free nipple, teasing and twisting it. You whimpered, whined, moaned… Your best friends fingers teased your entrance before he sunk one finger in you. You arched your back, closing your eyes as he fingered your firstly with one and then adding a second finger.

“Does he do it better than me?” Your boyfriend asked. Such a mean question:”No, the same…” Were you able to say. Your boyfriend chuckled and returned to caress your breasts. Your best friend looked up at you: “Oh come on, you can say if I am better.” You shook your head and moaned when he added a third finger. “I’m close…!” You whined and shivered slightly. The mouth and fingers in and on your pussy as well as the thorough dedication to your sensitive nipples brought you to your first orgasm. “Such a good girl, cum for us.” Your best friend said, you came all over his face.

Then they changed positions, the whole thing starting anew. “oh gods…” You said when your boyfriend kissed your sensitive pussy tenderly. You had time for one breath before his tongue fully develed into your cunt. You threw your head back. Your best friend chuckled and kissed you. You tasted yourself on his lips. His hands also teased your nipples. He kissed down to your erect nipples. They were already sensitive and he assaulted them with his skilled mouth and hot tongue. You moaned, writhing in pleasure and trying to close your legs. Your boyfriend held your legs apart, making room for himself to fuck you properly with his mouth. His fingers joined the came, through routine he curled his fingers directly into your g-spot, making you see stars and jolting up. You whined: “Cumming!” Before you came all over his face as well. Your werewolf best friend growled something about it being unfair. you could feel his cock rubbing against your back and see how hard your boyfriend was too. “Who was better sweetheart?” He tried to coax out of you, but you refused to answer. “Well then we have to continue.” He said with a grin. Once again his fingers delved into your cunt, abusing the sweet spot that made you see stars, shortly making you cum a second time. You whimpered and held onto your best friend for support, not even able to tell them you were reaching your orgasm again. “Such a good girl.” Your best friend crooned before he reached between your thighs, he was now to finger you. Firstly he rubbed your swollen clit, making you jolt up, but your boyfriend lent him a hand and held you down. You were loving every second of this, you were overstimulated but didn’t want it to stop.

His fingers rubbed circles over your clit, making you moan softly. He did that faster and faster, until you loudly came from his hand action, leaving you trembling. It had become a competition for them, and both of them were eager to win. They kissed your body all over, marking, sucking and biting. So many sensations you sometimes didn’t know who was doing what.

“Show me if its true, that wolves fuck the best.” Your boyfriend said to your best friend. The werewolf chuckled and quickly undressed himself. Your eyes went wide when you saw his dick for the first time, you reached out. Wanting to jerk him off a little, but your best friend scolded: “No baby, let us pleasure you.” Before he stroked himself a few times. He repositioned you into doggy style, ass up and face down. He rubbed his tip ud and down your slit. His precum mixed with your slick before he slowly and carefully sunk fully into you. You whined and moaned, feeling so full by his cock. After a short moment he began to move, his slow thrusts turned into a mad pounding. Tacking you like a wild animal. his cock was rubbing in all the right areas, making you tremble and push your back through. “Fuck!” You screamed and held onto your boyfriend who stroked your hair and praised you. Your best friend and you came together. He creampied you and you sank down onto the bed. But there was no break for you as your boyfriend turned you around on your back. Gently he sunk his cock into you, placing one of your legs over his shoulder. It was his favourite position. His hand found your clit, rubbing it while he thrusted in slow and hard thrusts. The cum of your best friend oozed out of your pussy, making a lewd squelching sound. “Such a good girl, letting us settle our fight over you by fucking you…” He praised you. “Maybe we should tag team her more often together. I mean look at her.” Your best friend said. “Dream on, wolf.” Your boyfriend said. You whined, wanting them to stop fighting. Instead your best friend said: Quit it and fuck her harder.” Your boyfriend obeyed, fucking you faster and harder. You whined and shivered. Coaxing another orgasm out of you. He spilled his seed inside of you, but you knew he was still hard.

Just when you thought it was over, they decided for something else. “Lets fuck her togehter.” Your best friend suggested, your boyfriend agreeing. “I think she deserves to cum out of her mind, I mean she has been our plaything and deserves at least one more orgasm. You whined, feeling like jelly. They lifted you up, using the combined cum and your slick as lube. You had done some anal stuff with your boyfriend before. Your best friend lubed up his cock with it and gently took you from behind while your boyfriend took your pussy. They held you up in the air, your feet not reaching the ground. You held onto them for dear life. “Please…” You pleaded, not even knowing what you were pleading for. They began to move. They synced their movements, you saw stars, it felt so good. Their big cocks rubbed the right places, a hand was at your clit rubbing it and you could feel your boyfriend bite your neck. While he sucked your blood both of them fucked you like their life depended on it. Grabbing your hips, surely leaving bruises, making you cum and fucking you through it to a far bigger orgasm.

They moaned, held onto you and when they came you saw black for a moment. You screamed your pleasure out, overstimulated, fucked out of your mind, happy. Their cocks left your holes, making you feel empty. You whined and they gently placed you on the bed. They got some water for you and cleaned you up with a towel. You were so fucked out that you let them pamper you, you whined until they finally came to bed to cuddle you.

Maybe they could be friends, at least when it comes to pleasuring you…

Taglist: @kyoko-neko

Divider Credit: @thecutestgrotto

[valkyriexo]

Friday Night Lights | Lee Know

ᑉ³pairing; Jock Lee Know x Nerd Reader

ᑉ³genre; Fluff, Smut

ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI ,dirty talk, swearing, oral m reciving,

ᑉ³Authors Note; 1k event Commisson giveaway winner Louie <3 (sorry it took so long :((( )

You’re used to staying in your lane.

In college, that means your nights are spent at the library, working on assignments, attending study groups, or listening to the whispers of people about crushes, weekend plans, and sometimes, the star athletes on campus. You don't usually pay much attention to that last one—until the whispers turn to Lee Minho. Lee Minho is… different. Confident, popular, and utterly untouchable. He’s the star of the football team, the guy people can’t stop talking about, but also somehow your friend.

Well, sort of.

You met through Jisung, your mutual friend, who has a way of pulling people together. You’ve spoken a few times—mostly polite hellos and small talk whenever Jisung ropes you into attending his hangouts—but every time you do, you find yourself tripping over your words.

You tell yourself it’s nothing—he’s just another guy, after all. But the way your heart races every time his attention flickers to you says otherwise.

“You’re coming to Minho’s game this Friday, right?” Jisung’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

You blink, caught off guard, and turn to face him. “What?”

Jisung leans back in his chair, balancing it on two legs like he always does, completely unfazed. “The game. This Friday. You’re coming, right?” He grins, as if your attendance is already a done deal.

“I don’t know...” you trail off, trying to avoid his expectant gaze. Crowds aren’t really your thing, and the idea of sitting through a packed football game is enough to make your stomach churn.

“Oh, come on,” he groans, dropping the chair back onto all four legs with a loud thud. “You’ve been holed up in this library all week. You need a break.”

You frown, shuffling your notebook to pretend like you’re busy. “I don’t really do... games.”

“You don’t have to ‘do games.’ You just have to show up. Cheer a little, look cute, and maybe—just maybe—have fun.” His tone is light, but the sly look he shoots you suggests he’s up to something.

Your suspicion grows. “Why do you care if I go?”

“Because it’s the homecoming game,” he says. “You know, one of the biggest games of the year? Minho’s going to kill me if you don’t show up.”

When you don’t respond, he rolls his eyes. “You know, Minho? Our mutual friend? The guy you can barely form a sentence around?”

“I do not—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupts with a smile, leaning forward on his elbows. “And I think he’d appreciate the support. He’s been working really hard this season, and besides...”

You tilt your head, confused. “Why would he care if I’m there? I’ve never even been to one of his games.”

“That’s exactly why he’d care!” Jisung groans, throwing his head back dramatically. “Do you know how many times he’s asked me why you never go? He thinks you hate football or something.”

“I don’t hate football,” you say defensively, though the thought of navigating the chaotic energy of a packed stadium doesn’t exactly fill you with joy. “I’ve just... never really had a reason to go.”

Jisung smirks, leaning forward on his elbows. “Well, now you do.The entire campus is going to be there—students, alumni, even the marching band’s pulling out all the stops. It’s a whole thing. You have to come.”

You hesitate, nibbling on your bottom lip. It’s not like you don’t want to support Minho—he’s always been kind to you in his own aloof, confident way. But showing up at a game, where everyone’s eyes will be on him—and by extension, anyone he cares about—feels overwhelming.

“I don’t know, Ji. Crowds aren’t really my thing.”

“Crowds aren’t the thing,” he says, cutting you off with a sly grin. “Minho is."

Your stomach flips at the thought. You’ve never seen him play before, never witnessed the version of Minho everyone talks about when they say his name with awe. The star athlete, the leader on the field.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble, quickly shuffling your papers as an excuse to avoid Jisung’s knowing look.

“Uh-huh,” he says, sitting back with an exaggerated shrug. “Just don’t be surprised when I text you the details anyway. You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

So, somehow, you find yourself in the bleachers that Friday night, bundled in your warmest jacket, pretending you’re not scanning the field for one particular player. It doesn’t take long for you to find him. Even among his teammates, Minho stands out, laughing with them, helmet under one arm as he warms up. It’s a little surreal, watching him from here; he’s all focus and intensity, so different from the relaxed, teasing guy you usually see at Jisung’s hangouts. You can’t help feeling your heart race a little faster.

As the game starts, you find yourself getting drawn in, caught up in the energy around you. The team is good, and Minho, even better. It’s not hard to see why he’s the star. Every play he’s part of feels....different. He’s practically flying across the field, tackling opponents, calling shots, making everything look effortless. You can’t keep your eyes off him.

And then it happens.

It’s fast—too fast, really—and at first, you’re not sure what’s wrong.

One second, Minho is sprinting down the field, his face set with determination as he cuts through defenders like they’re nothing. The next, there’s a collision, hard and brutal. The sound of it echoes in the stadium, a collective gasp rising from the crowd.

Your breath catches as you see him go down, gripping his ankle. For a moment, everything else disappears—the noise of the crowd, the whistle from the referee, even Jisung’s voice shouting something beside you. All you can see is Minho on the ground, pain written across his face.

Your heart pounds as players gather around him, the medics rushing onto the field. He tries to get up, but it’s clear he can’t put any weight on his leg. The sight twists something deep in your chest, and before you realize what you’re doing, you’re halfway to your feet.

“Hey,” Jisung says, grabbing your arm and pulling you back down. “He’ll be okay. It’s probably just a sprain or something.”

But Jisung’s words do little to calm the panic bubbling inside you. From this distance, you can’t hear what the medics are saying, but the way Minho shakes his head and slams his fist into the ground tells you it’s bad.

The game pauses as they help him off the field, his arm slung around a teammate’s shoulder, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. Your stomach churns, and for the rest of the game, no matter how loud the crowd gets or how exciting the plays are, you can’t focus. Your eyes keep drifting to the sideline, where Minho sits with his head down, his ankle wrapped in ice.

And all you can think about is how you wish you could do something to help him.

The rest of the game feels like a blur. The energy in the stadium surges back eventually, but not for you. Your eyes keep flicking toward the sideline, where Minho sits with his injured leg propped up, his arms crossed and a stormy expression on his face. Even from a distance, you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he’s forcing himself to stay composed despite the obvious frustration simmering beneath the surface.

Jisung nudges you with his elbow, breaking your trance. “Relax. Minho’s tough. He’ll be fine.”

You nod stiffly, not trusting your voice enough to reply. Jisung’s probably right—Minho is strong, the kind of guy who shrugs off pain like it’s nothing. But something about the way he looked when they carried him off the field makes your chest feel heavy.

When the game finally ends, with your school securing a narrow victory, the crowd erupts in cheers. Students flood the field to celebrate, but you can’t seem to share their enthusiasm. Instead, you find yourself lingering near the bleachers, watching as the team huddles together, Minho still sitting apart, his helmet resting forgotten at his feet.

“Come on,” Jisung says, tugging on your sleeve. “Let’s go check on him.”

Your heart skips. “What? No. He’s probably surrounded by people—he doesn’t need me there.”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re his friend too. Besides, if you don’t come, I’ll just tell him you were too shy to say hi, and then he’ll feel bad.”

You glare at him, but the teasing glint in his eyes leaves you with no room to argue. Before you know it, you’re weaving through the lingering crowd, your pulse quickening with every step closer to the team’s bench.

When you reach him, Minho is leaning back against the bench, his jaw clenched and his eyes distant. His ankle is now heavily wrapped, a crutch resting beside him.

“Minho!” Jisung calls, grinning as if nothing’s out of the ordinary. “You okay, man? That hit looked brutal.”

Minho glances up, his expression softening slightly when he sees Jisung—and then landing on you. His gaze lingers for a moment, and you suddenly forget how to breathe.

“I’ve been better,” he mutters, managing a wry smile. “But I’ll live.”

“You scared the crap out of them,” Jisung says, jerking his thumb in your direction. “They were about to jump the fence and carry you off the field themself.”

“Jisung!” you hiss, smacking his arm, but Minho chuckles, the sound low and warm despite the situation.

“You were worried about me?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks at you.

Your cheeks burn, and you scramble for a response that doesn’t make you sound ridiculous. “I mean... you went down pretty hard. Anyone would’ve been worried.”

His smile widens, a hint of his usual confidence returning. “Well, thanks for caring.”

The simplicity of his words, paired with the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, sends your heart into overdrive. You want to say more, to ask if he’s really okay, but the weight of his gaze and the teasing grin tugging at his lips leaves you tongue-tied.

“Anyway,” Jisung cuts in, oblivious to the tension hanging in the air, “you should let them take care of you. They're great at worrying—practically a professional.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands as Minho chuckles again.

“Noted,” he says, his tone lighter now, almost playful. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

And just like that, you realize you might be in deeper than you ever thought.

Over the next two weeks, Minho’s injury changes things. He’s benched for practices, forced to watch from the sidelines while his teammates run drills and scrimmage. The ever-present crutches are a constant reminder of his temporary setback, though he still somehow makes them look effortlessly cool.

The trouble starts when Jisung complains one afternoon, flopping dramatically into the seat next to you in the library.

“I can’t keep babysitting Minho,” he groans. “We don’t even have the same classes, and Coach keeps glaring at me every time I’m late because I’m helping him to practice. You should do it.”

You frown. “Me? Why me?”

Jisung grins slyly, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “You’re the only other person he talks to as much as me. Besides, you’re better at dealing with his diva moments.”

“Diva moments?” you ask, incredulous.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Despite your protests, Jisung isn’t one to take no for an answer, and by the next morning, Minho’s waiting for you outside your lecture hall, leaning on his crutches with an easy grin.

“Hey,” he says casually, as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

You blink at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Jisung said you’d help me get to practice,” he replies, his grin widening when he sees the look on your face. “Don’t worry. I’m not that high-maintenance.”

You sigh, already feeling like you’re in over your head. “Fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Helping Minho quickly becomes a routine. Every afternoon, you meet him after his last class to walk—well, technically hobble—to the field. At first, it’s awkward, mostly because Minho seems determined to act like his injury isn’t a big deal, even when he’s obviously struggling. But over time, the walks become... easier.

Minho, for all his bravado, is surprisingly easy to talk to. He asks you questions about your classes, your favorite things, even what made you decide to go to the homecoming game. His teasing is still there, but it’s lighter, less guarded, and you find yourself opening up to him in ways you didn’t expect.

One afternoon, as you’re walking back from practice, Minho turns to you suddenly.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

He gestures to his crutches, his expression unusually serious. “Helping me. I know it’s a hassle.”

You stop walking, frowning at him. “It’s not a hassle, Minho. I don’t mind.”

He looks at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you. Then, he smiles—soft and genuine, the kind that makes your heart skip.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

You’re about to keep walking when he doesn’t move, shifting his weight awkwardly on his crutches. His expression tightens like he’s debating something with himself, and before you can ask, he speaks again.

“You know... I'm not kidding,” he says, his voice lower now.

“Kidding about what?” you ask, genuinely confused.

“About this being a hassle,” he replies, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “But not for the reasons you think.”

You tilt your head, frowning. “Minho, that doesn’t even make sense.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, the sound more nervous than amused. “What I mean is... it’s a hassle because I’m trying really hard not to screw this up.”

Your heart skips. “Screw what up?”

“This,” he says, his dark eyes locking on yours. “Us. Whatever this is. Because, honestly? I like you.”

The words hit you like a wave, and you’re left standing there, staring at him as your brain scrambles to catch up.

“You… like me?” you echo, your voice barely above a whisper.

Minho nods, shifting his grip on his crutches as if they’re the only thing grounding him. “Yeah, I do. I’ve been trying not to make it obvious, but these past couple of weeks? Spending time with you, talking to you... it’s just made it harder to ignore.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. “Minho, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupts, his tone gentle but firm. “I just needed you to know. Even if you don’t feel the same, I... I couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t care about you like this.”

The raw honesty in his voice takes you by surprise, and before you can second-guess yourself, the words tumble out.

“I do feel the same,” you admit, your cheeks burning as you look at him. “I just didn’t think you would.”

Minho blinks, clearly startled, before his lips curve into a slow, disbelieving smile. “You mean that?”

You nod, unable to stop the small smile creeping onto your face. “Yeah, I do.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, his expression soft and full of something you can’t quite name. Then, he exhales a laugh, shaking his head.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he says, his grin widening. “I was starting to think Jisung would kill me if I didn’t say something.”

You laugh, the tension between you melting away. “He probably would.”

Minho straightens up, his confidence sliding back into place. “So, does this mean I can keep making you carry my stuff to practice? You know, since you like me and all.”

You roll your eyes, already regretting this. “Don’t push your luck, Minho.”

The days blend together, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you realize you’ve started looking forward to your time with him. The walks, the conversations, the way he glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking—it’s all so much more than you ever thought it could be.

But today feels different.

When you show up to meet Minho after practice, the field is empty. His crutches aren’t propped up by the bench where he usually waits, and there’s no sign of his teammates. You glance around, your chest tightening with a mix of confusion and unease.

“Minho?” you call out, but the only answer is the faint hum of fluorescent lights from the building nearby.

Frowning, you decide to check inside. The locker room is usually bustling after practice, but as you step in, it’s eerily quiet. The air smells faintly of sweat and detergent, and the echo of your footsteps makes the space feel even emptier.

You turn a corner, and that’s when you see him.

Minho is sitting on one of the benches, his crutches leaning against the wall beside him. His head is bowed, his hair falling into his face as he stares at the ground. There’s a tension in his posture, his shoulders hunched like he’s carrying the weight of the world.

“Minho?” you say softly, stepping closer.

He doesn’t look up right away, but you see the subtle way his shoulders relax at the sound of your voice. “Hey,” he mutters, his tone lacking its usual spark.

You sit down beside him, your knee brushing against his. “What’s going on? I thought we were meeting outside.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I just... needed a minute.”

You wait, giving him the space to speak. When he finally looks at you, his eyes are shadowed with something you don’t see often—uncertainty.

“I hate this,” he admits quietly, gesturing to the crutches beside him. “Sitting out, watching everyone else practice, knowing I can’t do anything. It’s... frustrating.”

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice. “Minho, it’s okay to feel that way,” you say gently. “But this is temporary. You’ll be back out there before you know it.”

He scoffs, his lips pressing into a thin line. “What if I’m not? What if I come back and I’m not as good? Or worse, what if I get hurt again?”

“Then you deal with it,” you say firmly, surprising even yourself. “Because you’re Minho. You don’t let anything stop you. And besides...” You hesitate, your voice softening. “You’re more than just football. At least, to me you are.”

He blinks, his eyes searching yours. “You really mean that?”

You nod, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from his face. “Of course I do. You’re amazing, Minho, even when you’re not on the field.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. Then, he reaches for your hand, his fingers warm as they curl around yours.

Minho’s thumb traces over your knuckles in gentle circles, and he looks down at your intertwined hands with a soft, almost shy smile.

There’s something unspoken hanging in the air between you, a feeling that’s been growing with every passing day, but now, in the quiet of the locker room, it’s impossible to ignore.

You feel it too—the shift, the tension, the undeniable pull drawing you closer. His gaze lifts from your hands to your face, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the locker room, the soft sound of his breath mingling with yours.

“You know,” Minho starts, his voice low, almost hesitant, “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

Your heart beats faster, your pulse quickening. “Do what?” you whisper, even though you already know.

Minho doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he leans in slowly, his face inching closer to yours, his lips barely brushing against the air between you. His hand moves to your cheek, his fingers warm and gentle against your skin.

And then, without another word, his lips are on yours.

It’s tentative at first, soft and uncertain, as if he’s waiting for you to pull away, but you don’t. You tilt your head, your free hand reaching up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. When you kiss him back, it’s like everything clicks into place—like this was always meant to happen.

The kiss deepens, slow and explorative, as if you’re both savoring the moment. His lips are soft, warm, and he smells like freshly cut grass and the faintest trace of cologne. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your other hand finding its way to his waist, holding him against you.

For a long moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in the feeling of something new and exciting, something neither of you ever expected. And when you finally pull away, breathless and slightly dazed, Minho rests his forehead against yours, his smile lazy but full of warmth.

“I think,” he murmurs, his voice low, “I could get used to this.”

You smile, feeling a quiet thrill at the thought. “Then I guess we’ll have to make it happen.”

Minho's grin softens, his hand still warm against your cheek, and he leans in once more.

This time, the kiss is different—deeper, more certain. There’s no hesitation, no wondering if this is okay. His other hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space between you. His lips move against yours, gentle yet deliberate, as if he’s making up for all the times he’d held back.

You respond, feeling braver now, your fingers finding their way to his collar, tugging him just a bit closer. The locker room is completely forgotten; it’s just you and Minho, the world melting away around you.

You wanted him, of this you were sure.

"Darling, why don't you let me help you forget about it all?" You purred, as your hands made their way down his chest stopping at his waist. You pulled him towards you and kissed him harder, your need for him overpowering any doubt that was left in your mind.

You knelt between his legs, the anticipation building between you. You place both of your hands on his legs and slowly began to push them apart, allowing yourself to slide in between.

"Y/n…" he said, placing his hand on top of yours, almost as if to stop you. His fingers lingered, trembling slightly. "A-Are you sure? " he said "I don't want to pressure you"

"Shh... let me," you replied softly, as you began to unbuckle his belt, your eyes never leaving his. "I want you, Minho. I want this."

He groaned as you palmed him through his boxers. You could feel him getting harder under your hands.

"Y-you don't have to, baby" He said through his moans. You slowly pulled down his boxers, his  erection springing free. "We can take it slo-OH," You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his pink tip.

You continued by placing a trail of kisses down his cock, keeping eye contact with him. You licked your way back up to the tip and took him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, tasting his pre-cum as it seeped from the top.

He couldn't help but throw his head back and lean further onto the bench. His breath caught in his throat as his ears began to turn a shade of red. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock.

The only thing heard in the locker room is the lewd sounds coming from your mouth along with his whimpers.

Minho moaned loudly, his hips bucking involuntarily. You took him deeper into your mouth and sucking harder than before. You reached up to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your fingers as you continued to pleasure him.

"Fuck, Y/N," He moaned. "That feels so good. You're so good."

You responded with a low growl, taking him even deeper, his tip kissing the back of your throat.

Your lips were locked around his shaft. You choked slightly around his cock, tears beginning to fall from your eyes as his tip hit the back of your throat continuously.

He whined for more, almost sobbing when you completely removed yourself from around him, removing your lips from him with a pop.

You lick your way up his cock, once again paying extra attention to his swollen tip. His gaze locked onto yours, he began to thrust his hips forward, his thick, hard cock pressing against your lips. You parted them slightly, allowing him to slide inside once again.

He began to fuck your mouth roughly, his cock sliding in and out of your throat with each thrust. You could feel the saliva dripping down your chin, but you didn't care - the only thing that mattered was pleasing him.

"I'm go-gonna.... fuck.. gonna cum." he said, his thrusts beginning to slow down.

You feel the familiar slip of your glasses down the bridge of your nose, threatening to fall off completely.

Before you can react, Minho’s hand gently brushes against your nose, and with a soft chuckle, he reaches up, pushing your glasses back into place. His fingers linger just a moment longer than necessary, his touch warm against your skin. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, your glasses sliding sending him overboard, and his cum paints your throat. You swallowed, your eyes never leaving his as you sucked him dry. 

He pulled his cock out, and you pressed your thumb down onto his dripping red tip.

The lower half of your face glistens, your features wet with your his cum.

"Fuck you're pretty" he said hold your chin with his hand. “I didn’t know you knew how to do that," his voice a mix of amusement and admiration. “You’ve always seemed like the super nerdy type—guess I was wrong.”

You laugh, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. “Well, I do have my moments of... unexpected skills.”

Minho’s smile softens, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you reply, a grin tugging at your lips. “Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out more.”

He chuckles, leaning in again, and you both fall back into the moment, the world outside fading away once more.

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[whisperofwonder]

100% inspired by this art

Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader - 1.6k words

This was certainly the last thing you'd expected when you decided to take your nephew to see the Adlers for his birthday.

part 2 is here

Ushijima has gotten used to this over the years. The meet-and-greets with the fans are just another part of being a professional volleyball player. He appreciates the support, and while the hours spent signing autographs and interacting with fans of the team can become tedious, he knows they're all part of the reason he gets to be here.

On this particular afternoon, the event is held directly after a match. He tries not to let on just how much he's running on autopilot right now, signing one glossy photo after another and giving a polite greeting to every fan who approaches him. He's just thinking of going home afterwards, having a meal and going over some clips from the match before crawling into bed. He has an early workout scheduled for tomorrow.

He's drawn out of his thoughts by a tug on the hem of his shorts, and looks down to see a little boy wearing an oversized jersey with his number on it. A huge smile is growing on his face now that Ushijima has finally seen him. "Oh, hello," He says, crouching down. He's gotten used to the younger fans, too. He's learned that they're much less intimidated by him, so much larger up close, when he gets down to their level.

"I'm gonna be a spiker just like you!" The boy announces proudly. Ushijima isn't great with ages, but he would suppose he's around 5 or 6.

"Is that right?" Ushijima can't help but soften. "It's a lot of hard work, but it's a lot of fun, too."

"I know!" The boy is nodding enthusiastically. "Your spikes today were amazing! Can I have a picture?" He gestures to the stack of photos Ushijima has been signing. Ushijima is just about to nod and stand up to reach for his marker when a voice cuts in.

"Kaito? Kaito!" You rush up, resting a hand on the little boy's shoulder - Kaito. "I told you to wait just a minute," You scold him breathlessly, "You know better than to run off like that." The little boy is suddenly studying the toes of his shoes, but Ushijima looks up at you. Your expression is still a little frantic, but it's softening with relief now.

"I'm sorry," Ushijima says after a beat of silence.

"Oh, no, it's not your fault at all. Kaito just needs to learn to be patient, is all." You say, exasperated. "He's just too excited," You offer a smile, and Ushijima feels a strange small leap in his chest. He must still be a little wired from the match.

"Is this your son?" He asks conversationally, finally drawing to his feet as he reaches for a photo and marker.

You're looking up at him, now at his full height, a little wide-eyed. "No," You say quickly, "My nephew. He's a little obsessed with the Adlers, and I got him the tickets for today's match for his birthday." You pause, looking down at Kaito. "You're his favorite player. He was really excited to see you play."

"Ah," Ushijima scribbles his signature across the photo and hands it to the boy. "Well, thank you for your support, Kaito. And happy birthday."

Kaito looks down at the photo with stars in his eyes. You're smiling softly at him, and Ushijima catches himself watching your face. "What do you say, Kaito?" You finally prod.

"Thank you," He intones dutifully, too distracted by his prize to look away.

"Would you like one, too?" Ushijima directs at you, marker posed over another photo.

"Oh!" You pause, "I'm not really - but - sure," You say haltingly. "Sorry," You add with a soft, nervous chuckle.

"Of course," He says, a slight smile pulling at the corner of his lips as he signs the photo. As he hands it to you, your fingers brush his ever so slightly, and he inexplicably finds himself wishing he could draw this moment out a little longer.

"Wait a moment," He say abruptly. A look of surprise crosses your face, but you nod, reaching down to take Kaito's hand. After a quick trip back to the main table, he returns with a small envelope. "Here," He presents it to you, "I thought," He pauses, "I thought maybe you and Kaito might like to come back for the big match next month. It's tickets," He adds as you accept the envelope.

"Oh, thank you so much! You didn't have to do this." You clutch the envelope and his signed photo carefully. "You're very kind, Ushijima-san," You smile sweetly.

"Don't worry about it," He insists with a shake of his head. He briefly considers getting you and Kaito a whole season pass, if it will earn him another smile like that one.

You look down at Kaito. "Isn't that nice? Ushijima-san gave us tickets to come to another match! Now you really need to thank him." You glance back at Ushijima, and that strange feeling in his chest is back.

"Thank you!" Kaito throws his arms around Ushijima's legs before you can react.

"I'm so sorry," You tug Kaito back. "That might have been a little too much thanks," You say lightly, with an apologetic quirk of your lips.

"He's fine," He waves it off. "I hope you can make it." He really, really does.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

You're once again queueing for the Adlers' meet-and-greet. Kaito is excited to meet Ushijima again, and you really do need to thank him for the gift of the tickets. That's all it is, you tell yourself, despite your conversations with your sister.

After you'd rehashed the entire interaction, she'd insisted that he must have liked you. There was no other possible explanation in her mind. She's always been a little bit of a romantic, though. The problem with her logic is that he is a tall, handsome, professional athlete. You're just you.

She encouraged you to go talk to him again regardless. After all, he'd seemed so calm, down to earth, and earnest. You're just doing this for Kaito, though.

As you get closer to the players, you can't help but catch sight of him. He happens to glance in your direction, and the bright stadium lighting tricks you into seeing a shift in his expression. By the time you reach him, Kaito is practically vibrating.

"Hello, Kaito," He greets as you approach, crouching down to talk with him just like he had last time. You can't help thinking what a sweet gesture it is. You're a bit surprised he'd even remembered your nephew's name, what with all the fans he must meet, but Kaito is tickled by the special attention.

Finally, he draws to his feet. "I have a different picture this time," He tells Kaito, "Would you like another one?" Kaito nods quickly. A slight smile plays on his lips, and he reaches for a photo, finally meeting your eyes for the first time.

"Hello," He says again, more softly. "It's nice to see you again. I'm glad you could come."

"Oh, thank you," You feel your cheeks heating up - you're just as bad as Kaito. "It was a really exciting match. I don't follow volleyball much," You admit, "But I just might be turning into a fan."

"I'm glad to hear it," He says, completely focused on you now that Kaito is admiring his freshly signed and personalized photo. "I won't ask if you need another photo," He says with the quietest chuckle, and you duck your head, embarrassed. You think of the signed photo from last time, tucked in your nightstand drawer. Somehow, you find yourself opening it almost every night.

"But I do have another question for you," He says, gaze suddenly not meeting yours. "I'm sorry that it's so abrupt. I don't even know your name," He says, almost shyly, if that's a word you can even attribute to him.

You supply it, and he nods before repeating it, smile pulling at his lips. "I was wondering if you might like to go out sometime. For coffee. Or dinner." His gaze is piercing now, and you feel your lips part in surprise.

"Oh," Is all you can say at first, before your lips move on their own. "Yes. I - I'd like that."

"Good," He says, abruptly turning away, "Then I do have something for you." He hands it to you. "Let me know when you're free."

You look down at a scrap of paper with his name printed on it - not signed - followed by a phone number. "I will," You say softly, looking back up at him and trying to hold back the giddy smile growing on your face. You're surprised to find he's smiling too, wide and genuine.

Kaito is watching this play out with wide eyes, gaze traveling between the two of you. He tugs on your hand uncertainly. "Oh!" You suddenly remember exactly where you are. "I'm so sorry, I think we must be holding up the line." Ushijima doesn't look as though he cares.

"We really should get going," You continue. "But I'll talk to you soon, Ushijima-san," You promise boldly, lifting your hand in a wave.

"Talk to you soon," He echoes, returning the wave and keeping his gaze on you for just a beat before he turns back to the next person in line. Kaito is bursting with questions, but you won't be answering a single one until you get outside.

⁂ ⁂ ⁂

As time passes, Kaito begins to think he must be the luckiest boy ever. After all, no one else that he knows has had their favorite volleyball player in the world become their uncle.

[kettlefire]

Maybe a Bit High (DpxDC)

Really, Danny shouldn't have been there. He had so many other things he should be doing. He wasn't even supposed to in Gotham!

Danny wished he could be safely tucked in bed right now. Or having another fight with his mom. Or dealing with another one of Sam and Tucker's squabbles.

Truly, anything was better than this. Then, being on the run, in a completely different state. Not recognizing anything anywhere and having to somehow find his dad somewhere in this city.

So yes, with Danny's luck, he had assumed the commotion by the docks had something to do with his search.

And of course, with Danny's luck, it had absolutely nothing to do with him.

Maybe things got a little out of hand. Really, Danny wasn't equipped to deal with a drug bust. His experience with crime tends to be of the ghostly nature.

Really, how do people even do these without getting a little bit high?

Was he even high? Could halfas get high? Was the powder he accidentally ingested the drugs? The one he got a giant mouthful of? Or was it the strange purplish liquid that coated like half his body?

Really, Danny wasn't in the frame of mind to try and figure all that out. It sounded more like a Jazz and Sam question.

God, Sam was going to be so bummed out for missing out on Danny's first trip. Not that Danny could even tell her what drugs these were...

Maybe he should go to a hospital?

Or maybe he should mess with this crane. Like, it looks fun! Wait, but people aren't supposed to use heavy machinery when high...

It's fine... probably. It's not like Danny was that high. Right?

Yea, he's fine. Besides, he's a halfa! He's like ninety percent sure he couldn't even get high. And Tucker would be so on board with his idea.

Hold on, the storage units look more fun. Danny couldn't help wanting to find out what was hiding behind all those walls.

Oh, but the sky looks so pretty from here! Even with the city lights and the light smog, Danny could make out the twinkling stars.

Maybe he should go for a fly. Even if he was high, technically, that would be fine, right? Flying is like walking for him. And it's not illegal to walk high! Just to be high...

Okay, okay, a flight it is. It'll atleast keep him away from civilians, and then he'll find his dad. Yes, Danny still needed to do that.

He couldn't lose his objective. He just needed to take a breather, and then track down his dad. Track him down somewhere in this large, bustling city.

It'll be fine, totally fine. Danny was totally not panicking. His current trip was truly not going downhill.

Was he forgetting to breathe? Wait, no, Danny was still Phantom. He didn't need to breathe, he's fine. It's fine...

Unless it wasn't. What if it was all in Danny's head? What if all this halfa stuff was all just a part of his really weird trip? What if he tries to fly and just ends up drowning in the river?

Okay, okay. Focus Danny, focus. He just needed to find his dad. That's it. His dad would know what to do. His dad could fix this.

Oh, and there he is! It was a little hard for Danny to focus his vision, but he knew the silhouette anywhere! It had to be his dad! Jack has such a distinct shadow!

Danny wasn't sure if he called out Dad or not. He also wasn't sure when he had decided to move. Did he fly or did he run?

It didn't matter. His dad knew, anyways. All Danny was focused on was the feeling of hugging his dad again...

And the strange armor his dad was wearing? It must have been something Jack rigged up to protect himself during these dire times...

But god, Danny couldn't tear his focus away from the texture of it under his fingers. Zeroing in on that alone.

It's fine. Even if he was high, Danny could just explain it to Jack. His dad would understand! Danny was just trying to be a good hero. It's not like he was doing drugs for fun!

Besides, being curled up on his dad's shoulders feels too good right now. Whatever that pointy thing on Jack's head was wasn't a big deal. It was something a little intangiblity could fix!

[a-hazbin-reader]

I just found your blog today and OUUUGHHH ALL THE X READERS ARE SOOO GOOD? ESPECIALLY THE PLATONIC ONES? WE LIVE FOR THE CHAOTIC Y/N <3 FUCK EM UPPPP <333

If you're looking for ideas, what about a reader that is friends with both Rosie and Alastor and notices that the reader is catching feelings for Alastor? I think she'd be support them, maybe poke Alkastor since he's not likely to get the hint wioth reader not saying it directly lol

Thank you for considering and I hope you're having fun out there! Ur favs loooove yooou <33

This is just so adorable????

Rosie X Reader Headcanons

Plus a little Alastor X Reader too

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Reader being BULLIED with affection, Rosie interferes with everything, Romantic Alastor X Reader

Description: ☝️⬆️

Rosie claims that matters of the heart are her specialty, and who is anybody to disagree with her??

She is quick to identify what someone is feeling and her friends are no exception to the rule

So when she notices you're starting to act strangely around your mutual friend Alastor...she's quick to figure out what's going on with you

You and Alastor are having drinks together and you're laughing a little too much?? Cheeks a little too pink?? Oh she saw that

Alastor is singing and dancing?? Rosie couldn't help but notice that you were completely enraptured by him, hanging onto every moment

You also happen to have a bad habit of looking away whenever Alastor compliments you, trying to hide a blush perhaps?

Well aren't you just adorable

Now Rosie won't corner you or anything like that, she won't pry the truth out of you even if she's dying to

But she does kind of trick you into admitting you're feelings to her, inviting you out for the day and slyly bringing Alastor up

You're so cute when you're flustered and choking on your drink

"Now now~ There's nothin' to be embarrassed about! Just let Rosie know what you're feelin' and she'll sort it out for ya!"

She's so good to you

"I guess my head has kinda been all over the place lately..."

Rosie slowly gets the truth to come out of you, and boy, is she pleased as punch to find out you're falling in love with Alastor

All Rosie wants is her two friends to be happy and if she can make it happen?? She'll make it happen, she's putting all her cards on the table for this one

She promises you that she won't tell your secret or intervene in any way

But she forgot to tell you that her fingers were totally crossed

Rosie tries to start out small and subtle, even visiting the hotel and getting the others involved

Suddenly everyone is talking about you and how talented you are, how lovely you always look, what you did today

"Y/N, look at that outfit! You look fucking hot today!"

"Uh..thanks Angel..?"

Charlie and Vaggie are always pairing you and Alastor together for anything they can think of

Niffty has suddenly taken to tripping you in front of Alastor but you needn't worry, he always catches you

Husk tries to stay out of it initially but even he gets caught up in it, admitting you two would be good together

Even random people on the street are giving you extra attention whenever you're out with Alastor

Alastor can't seem to get you out of his head all of a sudden, can't shake the intrusive thoughts of you

No matter

When being subtle doesn't work then Rosie switches gears, taking a page out of Niffty's book

No she's not going to trip you

Finds excuses to have you run errands for her, somehow always leading you to bumping into Alastor

And Alastor, ever the gentleman, always walks you back and keeps you company along the way

He finds himself getting more and more fond of you, more so than he was before, he feels a little strange

Finds himself wanting to be closer to you, seeing you in a different light than before, were you always so pretty to look at???

Rosie is pleased with her progress but annoyed by the fact that Alastor still hasn't taken a hint and that you still haven't confessed

That's fine, she's got ways

She starts having flowers and little gifts sent to you when she knows you're with Alastor, faking a secret admirer

Oh he doesn't like that

Alastor feels something ugly twist in his gut when he sees your face flush as you delicately pick at the flowers, flattered

After the fourth gift that was sent to you Alastor started to get more than annoyed, trying to figure out who was taking up your attention

Imagine his surprise when the paper trail leads back to Rosie

Okay now he's legitimately worried about losing you, Rosie is a smooth she-devil

"Alastor! What brings you here-"

"I know what you've been up to, my dear."

Rosie isn't nervous, but she's definitely surprised that he figured her out, she was only trying to help you out

Alastor skips all the pleasantries and immediately just asks her if she's trying to court you

Oh...so he got it wrong...that's hilarious

"Oh my stars~! No no no~!" She literally can't stop the laughter at this point

Now Alastor is confused, why was she pretending to be your secret admirer then?

Rosie tries to lead Alastor to his own conclusion about why she did it but all of a sudden he's turned into an idiot

She really doesn't want to out your secret

But she also has been working towards this for months now

So she blurts out the fact that you're in love with him and that she's been trying to set you both up together this entire time and it feels so good to let it all out and-

Alastor simply holds a hand up to stop her, looking a little overwhelmed by the news but Rosie also detects a hint of relief??

Maybe he did grow an extra soft spot for you after all??

After confirming with Alastor that you did indeed explicitly tell her that you fell for him, Rosie watches him leave

She also refuses to apologize for interfering in his love life, a girl has gotta look out for her friends

She honestly doesn't know which way things are going to go but is pleasantly surprised when you give her a ring the next day

"Rosie! Are you free today? You won't believe what happened last night! I can't wait to tell you!"

They should call her Cupid from now on

She always hounds you for the details on your dates and is always giving Alastor tips on what you would like

"Come now, was snuggling really all you two did after dinner?"

"R-ROSIE-"

"Oh Alastor, you should really get those earrings for Y/N~! They would absolutely sparkle on them~!"

Tells everyone that she's the reason you two are together, she's just so proud of herself

She wants to plan your wedding for you

WOAH

This one was such a cute idea!! I really hope it's what you wanted!!

[sommerbueckers]

HI BABY OKAY SO I HAVE A LITTLE ONE SHOT IDEA⁉️⁉️

so basically reader and paige know each other but aren’t exactly close just flirted a few times wtv wtv. so reader goes to a game and she’s wearing the other teams jersey😋😋 after the game paige sees her, they hang out have a few drinks and hookup.. and paige is like “take this shit off” then pulls the other teams jersey off reader

ALSO CAN I BE 🤍 ANON??

yes ofc you can !!

𝐚/𝐧: okay i literally love this idea , and congrats on being my first anon love !

𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞

➪ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

THREE DAYS AGO you had been sitting quietly in your apartment, the tv displaying an episode of Gilmore Girls that you, if prompted, could recite word for word. Leftover Chinese food sat cold upon the coffee table, your roommate occasionally returning to her forgotten bowl of beef broccoli.

“What’re you doing this weekend?” her voice abruptly cut through the silence, drowning out the show which could hardly be heard to begin with.

You leaned your elbow against the arm of the couch, shrugging your shoulders. “Probably nothing.”

“Per usual,” she snorted, amused. After reaching to pause the tv, she pulled her legs up under her and twisted around to face you. Her face held a look of mischief and you typically tried to steer away from any kind of conversation with her at this point, but there was nowhere for you to go. “Do you wanna take a little road trip?” she raised her eyebrows, hopefully.

“A road trip?” you repeated, your tone laced with confusion. “It’s the middle of February and you wanna take a road trip?”

Excitedly nodding her head, she scooted closer to you. “You know how i’ve been talking to Noa a lot lately?” She hadn’t even given you a chance to respond before she continued on. “Well her school plays UConn on Friday night and she said she could get me courtside tickets! How sick is that?!”

Courtside tickets to any game would be exciting, but courtside tickets to see UConn Paige play was an entirely different level of excitement.

You had met the basketball star at a penthouse party last summer. It was being hosted by some trust fund NYU student whose parents were out of town. It was said to be ‘select invite only,’ the hierarchy groups of the social food chain would be there along with whoever else they wanted to bring. You originally weren’t supposed to go, but after finding out your name was on the invite list, you and a few friends couldn’t think of any better way to spend the night.

Paige had been wearing a white crop top and a pair of jorts, and she looked far too good not to entertain for the night. All night you two had mingled and flirted, dancing together and taking shot after shot. Nothing came out of it other than another follower on Instagram, but you were just happy to have made the night a good one.

“Yeah, that’s pretty cool,” you admitted quietly. You leaned forward to grab the box of shrimp fried rice, aimlessly picking at it with your fork in an attempt to hide your clear interest in the conversation.

“Pretty cool?” your roommate gaped, “it’s fucking awesome! I finally get to meet her and you get to see Paige play in person.” She was practically bouncing off the walls at this point, her cheeks red from how hard she was smiling. She was biting her lip, no doubt to keep from squealing.

You sucked your teeth unconvincingly, your mind scattered as it tried to provide you with a quick response. “Why would I wanna see Paige?” you frowned, avoiding her eyes.

“Aren’t you guys friends?”

“Why would you think that?”

“Well you follow each other on Insta, and you’re always watching her games,” she shrugged innocently, thankfully not picking up on the way your eyes refused to meet hers or the blush that had unknowingly crept onto your face.

“Oh,” you mumbled, “well we aren’t.”

Unfortunately, it was the truth. You and Paige hadn't interacted with each other since the party and you chalked the night up to the two of you just having some drunken fun.

"Oh, so, do you wanna come down or no?"

You weighed your options, though the answer was clear. Stay in your apartment with nothing to do other than binge watch shows by yourself or join your roommate on a trip down to good ol' Storrs, Connecticut. You sighed and leaned back against the couch, crossing your arms.

"When do we leave?"

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡

That was how you ended up sitting courtside at a UConn versus Creighton game, a white and blue jersey over your sweatshirt, the number seven displayed on the front. Your roommate had insisted that you both wear Noa’s jersey, that way she felt ‘double the support.’ You didn’t mind despite the fact that you couldn’t name a single player on the team.

The game ended with UConn sweeping Creighton, you had tuned out sometime during the third quarter after accepting the fact that the blue jays wouldn’t be able to come back. You hadn’t even noticed the game was over until the blonde beside you stood up with a groan, throwing her hands in the air.

“That’s it? It’s over just like that?” she turned to you with wide eyes.

You shrugged your shoulders, “Guess so.”

She was beyond upset, you would’ve thought she had been the one on the court. She went on a tangent after the teams disappeared into the locker room, expressing her opinion on why the game should be longer and what Creighton should’ve done. She had no idea what she was talking about, and you knew that, but still listened nonetheless.

“Are we getting something to eat?” you asked when you were sure she was done talking.

“Yeah,” she sighed out, “not sure what Noa wants to do but we can figure it out when she gets out here.”

“Okay, ‘m gonna use the bathroom real quick.” You stood from your seat, brushing off your jersey and heading toward the bathrooms.

Never before had you been to Gampel Pavilion, and curiosity got the best of you as you disregarded the large ‘Restrooms’ sign for a more enticing place. You ambled down one of the corridors, looking at all the pictures and awards that were up on the walls. Pictures of alumni in all the different uniforms through the decades, different championship trophies and plaques.

Your eyes stopped on one picture in particular; it was from the 80s and the men had bright smiles on their faces as they held up a large trophy. Their shorts were incredibly short, and you laughed to yourself as you wondered how they’d ever played in them. Before you could bring your attention away on your own accord, a familiar voice did it for you.

“You’re not supposed to be back here.”

There stood Paige Bueckers in all her six foot glory, her eyebrows knitted together as she stared at you. For having just played a game, she looked amazing. Her hair was still pulled up in its usual braid and ponytail but it was now partially covered with a gray beanie, she had put on a jacket and sweats over her uniform and looked about ready to slip out without being seen. That’s probably what she was doing.

“Oh sorry, I—I didn’t know,” you shook your head, embarrassed.

“Nah it’s cool, usually it doesn’t matter but they’re tryna clear the place out now,” she explained with a shrug, a keychain jingling from the movement of her bag on her back.

You nodded your head, silently walking past her to make your way back to the gym.

“Wait,” she called out.

You whipped your head around quicker than you should’ve, your face holding a look of innocence as you waited, no, hoped for her to say what you thought she was going to say.

“Don’t I know you?”

‘Yeah, we met last summer,’ was what you would’ve said had you been able to think straight. Instead, you stared at her dumbly until she finally spoke again.

“I think I do, we met at that one kid’s party last year,” she said. Was she trying to remind you? Like anyone would forget meeting Paige Bueckers at a party.

“Yeah, yeah I remember,” you nodded. You rubbed your forehead with a breathless laugh, thinking of what to say next. “That night was pretty blurry to be honest…”

That’s all you could come up with?

It wasn't even the truth either. You remembered everything from that night; every look, every touch.

“No yeah I get what you mean,” she laughed, “don’t even remember how I got home.”

You nodded your head to feign agreement because you knew exactly how you had gotten home.

“Creighton fan, huh?” Paige asked, gesturing to your jersey.

You glanced down, pulling the material away so you could examine it yourself. “No uh, my friend’s girlfriend or — whatever is on the team and we just came down to support her.”

“Ah, so I take it you’re not a UConn fan either?”

You laughed, “I’ve watched a couple games.”

Another lie -- you've watched every game.

“I’ll take it,” Paige smiled. “It was good seeing you again,” she said, beginning to back up. Had you not been so captured by the shade of blue that her eyes held, you would’ve missed the way they'd scanned your body. Running up and down your legs, gently biting her lip. Her eyes once again met yours and she flashed you that signature smirk before she turned around and headed out.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡

"This place is fucking packed," Noa commented, surveying the bar with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, i'm gonna go see if I can get us a table."

Your roommate left your side and approached the hostess podium, you and Noa now being alone near the door. She awkwardly rocked back and forth on her feet, hands resting comfortably in her pockets. "Y'all came down here together?" she asked suddenly.

"Yeah, got here a little bit before the game actually," you smiled.

Noa hummed, "Hope you aren't driving back tomorrow," she said with a small laugh.

"What do you mean?"

"The couch at the apartment isn't the most comfortable," she sighed, scratching the back of her neck, "so I was just saying you'd probably be better off making blondie drive."

As if on cue, said blondie motioned for the two of you to follow her. "The wait was like forty-five minutes but the bar has the full menu," she said and gestured to three open seats right beside each other. You all gladly took them, sighing as you finally put your feet to rest.

The bartender came around and took your orders and the three of you finally settled in. Conversation came easy, you and Noa bonded over all things basketball. You discussed the calls that were made during the game, how a lot of them were made in favor of UConn because it was their home gym and all. While it hadn't been a complete lie, UConn would've won even without those calls.

You sipped casually on your martini, letting your two friends fall into their own conversation while you busied yourself elsewhere. Your gaze moved from table to table, scouting out someone who could turn your night around from the eventful one it had been. Once again, as though the man above had been listening solely to you, Paige and her teammates waltzed right in.

She had changed out of her basketball uniform, now dressed in a pair of cargos with a long sleeve and a vest.

Instinctively, you straightened up in your chair. They'd seated themselves on the other end of the bar, Paige sitting perfectly in your line of view. You felt like a creep the way you were watching her, but you couldn't help it. There had been a point in time where Paige had been focused on you. Her hands roaming your body as you danced together, her eyes locked on yours only, determined to make you laugh. You smiled unconsciously at the memory of that night, wishing over and over that you could relive it.

When you looked up again Paige was gone, missing from the rest of her group.

"If I didn't know any better, i'd think you were following me," her voice came from close behind you, and you found her standing there with an untouched drink in her hand.

"Well if I remember correctly, I was here first," you smiled, tilting your head. You were hoping you looked cute doing it and not dopey like you had pictured yourself. "So who's really doing the following?"

Paige chuckled, "You got me there." She moved to take the seat beside you, glancing around for a sign that someone was already sitting there. When she didn't find one, she proceeded to get comfortable. You watched contently, sipping your drink with crossed legs and waiting for her to settle. "That's the girlfriend?"

You nodded your head without looking behind you.

"Whatchu got?" you pointed at her glass.

"Dirty Shirley."

"Ah, your favorite."

Paige pursed her lips, a smile threatening to break through. "How'd you know that?" she asked.

"It was all you drank that night," you reminded her.

"Hm," she smirked, "thought you said you didn't remember much."

'Fuck,' you thought to yourself.

"I remember bits and pieces," you shrugged, distracting yourself with your drink.

The blonde playfully narrowed her eyes. She remembered everything from that night, she had only pretended not to because she felt embarrassed that she remembered everything and you didn't. She had visited your Instagram multiple times in the weeks following that, cursing herself for not having the courage to ask you out or do anything other than pointlessly flirt with you.

But here she was, being presented with the opportunity to turn things around, and she planned to take advantage of it.

"So tell me, what else do you remember?"

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡

Two martinis and four rounds of shots later, you and Paige found yourselves in an intense game of pool. She was currently beating you, her only objection to sink the eight ball in while you still had a few balls left to knock in.

You leaned over with focused eyes, carefully lining up the stick with the ball. You could feel Paige's presence beside you, her breath hot on your ear as she spoke. "She's crumbling," the blonde teased. She sensed your stress and she was feeding off it, a thrilled expression upon her face. "Will she sink it? Or will she fumble?"

You pulled the stick back, and with a swift movement, jolted it forward. The ball flew quickly across the table, ricocheting off the side and rolling back toward the middle.

"Oh! She shoots, she misses!" Paige commentated enthusiastically, the alcohol running through her system and giving her a buzz. She pointed her finger annoyingly in your face as she backed away, getting closer and closer to her position behind the eight ball. She mimicked the stance you had done; leaning over the table and zeroing in on the ball.

A beat of silence passed and Paige still hadn't moved, her eyes slowly moved upwards to meet yours. A smile broke out onto her lips, she stood up and twirled the stick around in her hands. "How about we make this a little more interesting," she suggested lowly.

"Interesting how?" you snorted, leaning against the table.

She stepped closer to you, towering over you with a gaze that had you practically foaming at the mouth. If Paige wanted to take you on the pool table right at that moment, you would've let her. Of course, that was just the alcohol talking, and there was quite a lot of it.

"I need one shot to win, and I want a reward when I do."

"A reward, huh?" I raised my eyebrows, noticing her step closer, "What kind of reward do you want?"

"I can think of a few things..." she murmured. Paige was trying hard to be seductive right now, and she couldn't tell if it was working or not. She had already failed to hookup with you once last year at the party, and she'd be damned if she failed again.

"Like what?" you took a step closer, batting your eyelashes at her. You were teasing her and she knew it. The alcohol coursing through your system was giving you a confidence boost like no other, and you couldn't think of a better way to make use of it other than flirting with Paige.

"Well for starters," she sighed, pulling gently on the Creighton jersey that you had yet to change out of, "I don't wanna see this anymore tonight."

"Oh yeah?" you quirked a brow at her.

"Yeah, and when I win, i'm gonna take it off you," she said confidently.

You could feel yourself sweating beneath your clothes, the pool stick in your hand suddenly becoming difficult to grip. You cleared your throat when she finally stepped back, a knowing smile tugging at her lips as she repositioned herself on the other side of the table and focused on the ball. With a quick and calculated shot, the ball swiped cleanly across the table before falling into the desired slot.

The noise from the bar seemed to fade away as the realization of Paige's victory sunk in. People drunkenly moved around; dancing, singing, cheering at whatever was playing on tv, but none of that mattered to you anymore. You were unable to focus on anything other than Paige's blue eyes staring into yours, the color seemingly darker than it was just moments ago.

You rolled your eyes and set the stick down on the table, reaching for the hem of the jersey to take it off. Paige's hands quickly found your wrists, her face contorted in utter confusion. "What're you doing?" she asked.

You were playing with her.

"Taking the jersey off, isn't that what you wanted?" you frowned innocently.

Paige scoffed, "Don't test me. Let's go back to mine, you can take it off there."

You both bid your goodbyes to your friends, your roommate tossed you a questioning look that you dismissed with the wave of your hand. You waited impatiently outside for an Uber, Paige holding you close in attempt to shield you from the cold. Her eyes were fixed on your lips, the very ones that were trembling, begging to be warmed up by hers. From the moment she had seen you in the hallway she immediately recognized you, she'd recognize that ass anywhere. She had planned to send you a message tomorrow, running into you tonight had been unexpected but not unwelcome. It just gave her less time to think of what to say.

The car ride back to Paige's house left the two of you bright eyed and rosy cheeked; the radio was switched off and the driver spelled like he had just played in a basketball game and didn't bother to shower afterward. The backseat windows appeared to have a child lock on them, preventing either of you from breathing in fresh air. Between the buzz from all the drinking and toxicity of the car's air, you and Paige couldn't stop yourselves from laughing the whole way there. Her hands didn't leave your legs, but in the midst of all the welcomed chaos you hadn't even noticed.

You rolled out of the car, basking in the cold air with open arms. Paige trailed closely behind you, her hand on the small of your back as the two of you made your way up to her apartment. The second the elevators doors shut and you two were alone, your lips met hers in a searing kiss. She tasted sweet, like Dirty Shirleys and peach CÎROC shots. With your hands tangled in her hair, you pulled her closer, wanting needing to taste more of her.

Her tight grip on your hips, fingertips pressing into you, sent shivers throughout your body. She backed you into the wall, her tongue exploring every inch of your mouth while you lowered your guard and let her. So caught up in the taste of you, she almost missed the elevator opening up to her floor. Hardly even breaking the kiss, you two made your way out. Paige knew exactly where to go and you were blindly being led by her, stumbling over your own feet.

Paige fumbled around in her pocket for her keys, roughly jamming them into the lock and pushing the door open. The apartment was dark with the exception of a few city lights pouring in through the windows. Standing in place for a couple seconds longer, you felt the kiss slow down before Paige stopped it completely.

"Fuck," she spoke breathlessly, running a hand through her hair. She reluctantly backed away from you, turning on the lights. With the apartment's kitchen now being fully lit, you could see into the living room as well. The place was beautifully furnished, with little fake plants placed around on the shelves and pictures of Paige and her friends framed up on the walls. Her couch looked far more comfortable than the couch Noa had described earlier and you were dreading having to return to it later tonight.

Paige appeared in front of you, her hands coming up to cup your face. "I want you to go into my bedroom, turn the light on, and then sit down on the bed and wait for me," she instructed lowly. You nodded silently, backing up in the direction of the bedroom while giving Paige the sexiest smile you could muster. In reality, you were absolutely panicking.

Once you got to the bedroom, you switched on the lamp that rested on the bedside table and seated yourself on the edge of the bed. You were unsure of how to sit, or maybe you should try lying down? You decided on taking your shoes and socks off first, neatly dropping them on the side of the bed. You didn't have time to further your thoughts on how to sit because just as you had finished putting your things aside, Paige entered the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She was carrying a bottle of water that she set down on the nightstand, laughing when she noticed you awkwardly staring.

"You look uncomfortable."

"I'm not, just waiting for you," you replied, hoping the shakiness in your voice didn't betray you.

Paige walked over and stood before you, enticingly biting her lip. She leaned down at the same time that you leaned back, a seductive game of cat and mouse as she crawled forward whilst you crawled backward. Your smiles grew when your back hit the headboard and you realized you had nowhere else to go.

"You've been staring at me all night with those eyes," she murmured, and you felt her breath on your lips.

"What eyes?"

Paige rubbed her own nose against yours before she reconnected your lips. She pushed your legs apart with her hands, running them up and down the smooth material of your leggings. You let out a soft moan into her mouth when her knee came in contact with your heated center, bucking your hips in order to feel more of her.

Paige took it upon herself to quicken the pace, instinctively grinding into you. Her lips eventually left yours, trailing down your neck and leaving wet pecks all over. Her teeth bit softly into your skin, marking you as hers. You pressed her further into you, hands snaking under her shirt and roaming all over her back. Her attack on your flesh was violent, the pain pulling a pathetic whimper out of you.

"Fuck, do that again," Paige mumbled against your skin, repeating her actions a little rougher this time to gain a bigger reaction from you.

"Ah, Paige!" you slammed your hand against her shoulder, screwing your eyes shut.

She yanked harshly at the jersey still clinging to your body, "Take this shit off," she spat out. She pushed you down into the mattress, ripping the garment from your body and discarding it somewhere in the room. Your sweatshirt came off next, leaving you clad in only a bra and your leggings. Paige pulled her own shirt over her head, her necklace dangling over your face. You used it to pull her back down into you, hungry for a taste of her again.

Her fingertips crept underneath you and she hooked them onto your bra strap, skillfully unlatching it and pulling it off you. Dilated pupils gazed down at your exposed breasts, her hands hastily coming up to touch them like a child in a toy store. She kneaded, sucked, licked, kissed, her attention focused solely on your hardened nipples, leaving your neglected pussy uncontrollably dripping.

"Paige," you whined desperately, your back arching so far off the bed that Paige's hands forced you back down.

"Hm?" she hummed inattentively.

"I need you..."

A loud popping sound came from Paige letting go of your nipple, holding your stare as she lowered her body closer to where you needed her most. Just as she had hooked her fingers on your bra strap, she hooked them on the waistband of your leggings and slowly pulled them down.

Your panties were downright soaked, earning a mocking laugh from the blonde.

"So wet for me mama," she purred, a smirk on her face.

She took her thumb and ran it straight down your clothed slit. You sucked in a sharp breath, hands already grabbing at the sheets on the bed. To Paige, you looked like an angel lying there, like a good girl with those pleading eyes as you waited to be fucked senseless. Finally, Paige removed your panties and tossed them aside with the rest of your clothes.

She shamelessly played around in your slick, soaking each and every one of her fingers in it.

"Tell me you want it."

"I want it Paige," you breathed out.

Paige's face appeared overtop of you, her jaw clenched tightly in disapproval, "Beg."

You were so turned on you didn't even protest, instead just propped yourself up on your elbows to be closer to her. Her fingers danced around in teasingly slow circles on your clit, a knot gradually forming in your stomach. "Please I want you to fuck me, please baby I need it so bad. Want your fingers inside me," you exhorted pathetically.

Without wasting another second, the blonde inserted two lengthy fingers inside of you. It was like looking into a mirror the way Paige's face copied yours; when you bit your lip, she bit hers, when your mouth involuntarily gaped open, so did hers. She was taunting you, forcing you to see how undone you were becoming. Tightly gripping her bicep, you dug your nails into the large muscle.

Her fingers pumped in and out of you, thumb doing work on your clit to bring you closer to the edge. The squelching noise that filled the room sent heat to your cheeks, and if it wasn't that then it was the look Paige was giving you as she fucked you. She was proud of the mess you were becoming, the mess she was making you. She kissed your lips over and over again even though you couldn't kiss back.

Your head was spinning with thoughts of Paige, the feeling of Paige inside you. Your toes curled involuntarily, noises you had never heard yourself make before echoed off the walls of the room.

"Yes yes yes, i'm close," you cried out, "fuck just like that!"

Paige hurriedly kissed her way back down to your pussy, replacing her thumb with her tongue. She mercilessly sucked you like a starved woman enjoying her first meal, or a guilty one enjoying her last. Her tongue moved nimbly against you, fingers fucking in and out of you and feeling the tightness as you clenched around her.

"You gonna come for me, huh?"

"Uh huh," you fervently nodded.

"Hmm," she hummed into you, the vibrations nearly sending you over the edge, "let me hear you say it. I want to hear you say it."

"Yes! I'm gonna come for you..."

Paige expertly curled her fingers inside you, lying her tongue flat against your clit and forcing you to do none other than let go. The knot that had been building in your stomach finally fell apart, your legs snapping shut and trapping Paige's head there. You pushed and pulled at her, your desires becoming fuzzy as the orgasm swallowed you whole. Moans and strings of curse words unconsciously spilled from your lips. They were a stark contrast to the sweet things Paige cooed as she left kisses along your stomach, and your chest, and back up to your lips.

"Such a good girl," she whispered on your lips, "you were so good for me."

You shivered at the empty feeling you got from Paige pulling her fingers out of you, they were covered in the same slick that her chin was, glistening under the lamp's light. You smiled tiredly at her, snaking your arms around her neck and pressing your lips to hers.

"You tired?" she asked, observing your face.

"Yeah."

She pulled away from you and reached for the water bottle on the nightstand, twisting it open and bringing it to your lips. "Sleep here tonight," she said, "I can take you where you need to go in the morning."

Swallowing the water you said, "You sure?"

"Yeah, you probably can't walk after that anyway."

"Shut up," you snorted hitting her chest.

The two of you settled in bed together, your naked body finding warmth against her clothed one as she cuddled you close to her. You smiled to yourself, nuzzling your face in her neck and drifting off to sleep.