#but the rest is just not for me and that’s fine
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daisymbin · 3 days ago
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[07:52] - jeon wonwoo
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“five more minutes,” wonwoo mumbles, voice heavy with sleep. his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer as his nose burrows into the crook of your neck; refusing to let you go.
“you’ve been saying that for the past thirty minutes,” you grumble, half-heartedly pushing at his chest. “we’re going to be late.”
“no, we won’t,” he counters, his voice muffled against your skin. “you’re always early anyway, its okay to be late for once.”
you sigh, but the warmth of his embrace makes it hard to stay firm. “wonwoo, seriously. we have things to do.”
“but not as important as this,” he murmurs, his lips brushing lightly against your collarbone. “just five more minutes. promise.”
you crane your neck to glance at the clock on the bedside table. “you said that at 7:15. it’s almost 8 now.
he groans dramatically, shifting just enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. his bedhead is adorably messy, and his glasses sit askew on the nightstand where he left them. “fine. three more minutes then."
“you’re impossible,” you mutter, though you make no real effort to leave his grasp.
“but you love me,” he says, his lips curling into a small, sleepy smile.
“unfortunately,” you tease, trying not to laugh when he gasps in mock offense.
“unfortunately?” he echoes, leaning back just enough to look at you properly. his dark eyes, still soft with drowsiness, search yours. “take it back.”
“nope.”
“take it back, or i’m not letting you go. ever.”
“you’re already not letting me go,” you point out, laughing softly.
“exactly.” his grin widens as he rolls onto his back, dragging you with him until you’re sprawled on his chest. “looks like you’re stuck with me.”
“wonwoo,” you whine, though your voice is more fond than frustrated.
“five more minutes,” he pleads again, his hand tracing lazy patterns on your back. “please?”
you let out a long, exaggerated sigh, but the way his arms tighten around you makes your heart flutter. “fine. five more minutes.”
his smile is triumphant, though it quickly softens into something tender. “thank you," he adds, "i'll make it up to you," he promises, his voice a quiet hum as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “but for now... just stay.”
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luveline · 2 days ago
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Hi Jade! Can I request Spencer and Nurse!reader? Maybe they meet when he’s wounded/she’s patching him up?
(Yes I’m a nursing student I promise we aren’t all mean girls 😔)
ty for requesting!! ik ur not all mean of course!!<3 —you meet the cutest FBI agent ever and tend his wounds. fem, 1.5k
One of the small pleasures of your job is when the patients are cute. Not many people come through as handsome as this one. You’re professional nonetheless. 
“What am I seeing you for today?” you ask, holding your hands behind your back. 
Your patient, charted as a Dr. Spencer Walter Reid, twenty nine years old, gives you a tentative smile. “Someone hit me really hard.” 
You can see the bruise forming against his temple. “Yes, I’d say so. Did you know the assailant?” 
“No, but it’s handled.” His smile turns to a grimace. “Uh, I get these, like, debilitating migraines, and I feel like I have one coming on.”
“A head injury could trigger that,” you agree, holding your hands out in front of you, little torch in hand. “Can I have a look?” you ask softly. 
When you’ve been a nurse for some time, you start to categorise people into boxes. All kinds of boxes for different things, but Spencer Reid gets a tick for a few things straight away: shy, pretty, and sensitive to touch. He must not get touched much, or he’s had a bad experience with strangers. He did just get hit in the head, you allow, brushing a sweet, mousy curl away from his head and holding it out of the way as you shine a light into each of his eyes. He flinches hard, but his pupils react as expected. 
Whoever hit him managed to break the skin, upon closer infection of the injury. The skin has turned purple at the edges of his cut. It’ll be a big bruise in just a few hours. 
“Spencer, please tell me if I hurt you, honey,” you say, voice still soft. If he’s got a migraine coming, he won’t want your usual overloud distinction. 
“It’s okay. It hurts, but not more or less when you poke it.” 
“You have a laceration, yeah? It’s about three centimetres long, but deep. I can close it with a butterfly stitch, if you’re okay with that.” 
“Yeah, please. Um, about the migraine–”
“Do you want a tramadol, honey? I think you deserve one.” 
“I can’t have narcotics.” 
You pull back and straighten the hair you’d displaced. “That’s okay, it just means you can’t have the strongest stuff. Most people try to avoid them anyhow. How about tylenol, would that be alright? Or do you avoid painkillers in general?” 
“Tylenol is fine as long as it doesn’t have the codeine with it.” 
You give him a gentle nod. “I’ll make sure it’s the right one. You can even see the bottle, if you like. Would you want them before or after the stitch?” He probably knows, but you add, “It’s not a real stitch. But it might feel tender when I’m poking around.” 
“Anything. Whatever you want to do first.” 
His eyes squeeze closed. You give him a frown he can’t see, and rest your hand on his arm. “Is there someone here with you?” you ask him.
“My friend is coming, I think. There was a lot going on.” 
“That’s okay. I’m not sending you home until I’ve fixed you, Dr. Reid.” 
He smiles, even with his eyes closed, but doesn’t say anything more. You wash your hands and find your bandages. A butterfly bandage, a sterile wipe, and a square piece of gauze to cover it cleanly. His eyes are opening again when you return, ushering him gently down the bed so you can sit on his right side near the injury. 
“What do you do for work?” you ask him. 
“I work for the FBI.” 
“You do?” You tear open the sterile wipe and again pull the curls from his forehead. “This might sting. Please tell me if it hurts too much.” 
“It’s not the cut that hurts.” 
“I’m sorry,” you say sympathetically. Migraines are a tricky business. If he’s already having one, you probably can’t do much to get rid of it, but that doesn’t mean pain relief won’t help. “I’ll do this as quickly as I can.” 
He’s quiet. You wipe around the laceration with careful, concise movements. The cut looks clean enough when you’re done, and it’s so small you won’t irrigate it. 
“Are you an agent?” you ask. 
“Yeah. Special supervisory with the BAU. The, uh, behavioural analysis unit.” 
“Oh, I know,” you say, putting the wrapping and the dirtied wipe into your cardboard bowl. “I think I’ve seen it on TV sometimes, you guys can track the serial killers and stuff?” 
“Mostly that, yeah. Uh, sometimes we find trafficking rings or missing kids. Sometimes we manage hostage situations. It depends on the level of the crisis.” 
“So you’re the big gun.” 
“I guess so. I’m not actually good with a gun.” 
“No one has to be good with a gun to change the world.” You pull the butterfly stitch from the packaging and pick at a finicky end. “I hate guns.” 
He sighs. “I do, too.” 
“They make my job hard. It’s not nice, seeing what they can do to people. It’s awful, really. Spencer, I’m so sorry, honey, I’m just gonna put this on here, it might feel uncomfortable as I pull the sides together.” 
“It’s okay.” 
You pull the plastic of the butterfly stitch on both sides, cinching his cut together promptly. It looks better now you can’t see the inside. 
“I’m gonna cover this with the dressing now. You don’t have to keep it on if you don’t want to, it’s a pretty small cut, it was just deep. I’d recommend you try to keep it dry for two days, really, you should keep it covered, but it’s up to you. And if anything happens, if it gets infected, you can always come see me again.” 
You’re mildly flirting, then. Just because he’s nice and shy. It might be a little cruel of you to proposition a man when he’s roughed up, though. 
Spencer, luckily, understands that you’re not trying to harass him. “Thank you.” 
You stand, peeling the plastic from the bandaid and exposing the sticky backing. Slowly, you stroke his hair back from the wound and line the bandaid up. He shivers under your nails. 
“So sorry,” you say, laughing under your breath, “it’s my nails, huh?” 
“It’s okay.” 
“You’re a great patient, Spencer. I’d give you a sticker if I could, I’m not kidding.” 
“You’re a great nurse.” 
“Thank you.” You smooth the edges of the bandaid down for good measure and step away from him to assess him. “How’s that migraine?” 
“Getting worse.” 
“You have them often, you said? Treated or untreated?” 
“Psychosomatic, apparently.” 
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. Has your doctor talked to you about CBT?” 
“Some. I don’t really… want it,” he says awkwardly. 
“That’s okay. If it’s psychosomatic as they believe, it might get better with time. How’s the stress in your life?”
“Stressful.” 
“It must be hard, the FBI, everything. Life is hard enough. Stopping serial killers must weigh on your heart.” You smile carefully. “Was there anything else you wanted to bring to my attention? Any other injury, anything that needs urgent care?” 
“I was mostly worried I had a concussion.” 
“It doesn’t seem like it. You’re not nauseous, are you?” 
“No, I don’t think so.” 
He gets this awful, sad look on his face, it really isn’t nice to see. People come in by themselves all the time but it never gets easier to handle. 
“Are you alright?” you ask, taking his arm into your hand. 
“I’m fine.” 
He had the look of someone who’s always fine. Luckily for him, it’s your job to take care of people, to make sure they’re more than fine. “Okay. I’m gonna get you something warm to drink. Do you like donuts?” 
“Uh–”
“I’m getting a feeling about you. Chocolate frosting, I bet.” 
He smiles, startled and pleased at once. “Yeah.” 
“Okay, I’m gonna get those for you. A drink, a donut, and some much needed Tylenol. You can lay down if you like.” 
He nods but doesn’t move. 
As you’re leaving the room, you cross paths with a handsome man with dark skin and a bright smile. Must be something in the air today, you think. 
“Reid, you okay?” you hear him say. 
“Fine.” 
“You’re pink.” 
“What?” 
“You’re blushing. Oh, you had the pretty nurse, didn’t you?” 
“Shut up,” Spencer whispers sharply. 
“You can ask for her number.” 
“No I can’t, she’s working.” 
“But you want to,” his friend surmises. 
You bite down a smile, giving your head a shake as you go. You need to get a move on. Spencer needs a hot drink, a donut, Tylenol, and a pen. It should be okay if you’re both feeling up to it, right?
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nanamiscocksleeve · 2 days ago
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Reading While Cockwarming Them
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Warnings: MDNI, PIV, general sex, teasing, some name calling and sadism in Geto's part. A/n: Found an old WIP that I half wrote then gave up on because I couldn't find the inspiration. I'm glad I got back into it because I almost feel like my JJK writing has become rusty nowadays, and I'm thrilled to find some ideas that might still feel new.
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The book is open on the bed, right under your pretty, flushed face as you kneel on all fours, Satoru’s cock nestled comfortably in your slick pussy. 
Your mouth is moving, and you see the little black characters on the page, but your speech is slurred and syrupy as you try to form intelligible sounds. 
“The…he-he-ro…isn…ways…to…”
“What’s that baby?” Satoru taunts as he slides out of your drooling cunt, all patience and sweet smiles. He feels how your walls clench in protest as you try to keep him in, his tip almost out of your tight, wet, hole.
“Toru please…” you whine, knowing his enticing length was right there, but he was getting off on seeing you swallow your words. Determination that had been ample in hand at the beginning of this session had now gone flying out the window. You just had to insist that Satoru couldn’t fuck you dumb with his cock, denying his claims, and now you’re forced to swallow your pride as you realize you can’t focus on a damn thing. The letters all look like squiggles to you and your tongue refuses to cooperate, only allowing you to pant and babble nonsense.
“You’re the one that said you would read me a bedtime story.” He arches his hips away from you as he feels you lift your ass, hoping to slip him back in. “And so far I can’t understand a word you’re saying. I’m hoping this helps.”
You moan in frustration and try to focus your hazed mind on the print. “The hero isn’t always right. As told in the story we’re about to embark on-” Your breath hitches as Satoru glides back into your warmth as you started to read. The hot length of his cock spreads you apart so invitingly messing with your head.
“Oh don’t feel like you have to stop on my account sweetheart. Keep going. Just testing how deep I need to go before you start going dumb again.” Not very deep based on his observations. He’s barely halfway sheathed and your speech had already become halting and incorrigible. He slips out slightly and you clear your throat trying to not to sob and admit defeat. 
“Our story takes place in a time of old and ooohhh…” The sensual groan leaves you unrestrained as he pushes further in.
“Hmm so about three fourths of the way,” Satoru muses, looking at how much of him was buried inside you. “Keep reading. Trying to fine tune this pussy. I was promised a bedtime story.”
He starts to thrust slowly, letting you feel each inch of him as he withdraws before sliding back in, never bottoming out and leaving you aching with the knowledge that you're only half full. You're not even trying to focus on the words now, just moaning and knowing you'll likely have to let him win if you wanted anything tonight. 
“Satoru please…” You whine as he starts to drag his fingers along your moist slit, finding your bud and circling it expertly. 
“Aw. No bedtime story for me tonight?” he asks mockingly as he draws out a moan from you. You shake your head and he grins triumphantly. “Next time then. We'll train your pussy to not disconnect from your brain.”
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Kento can’t stand the thought of not having physical intimacy. Cockwarming was his way of reconnecting, of being able to touch you, feel your soft skin and the warmth of your body, even if he was too tired for sex. 
The bed is so inviting, and your back rests against his chest as his cock pulses with life inside you. Warm sheets are wrapped around your bodies as you sit on his thighs with a book on your lap. Kento's chin rests on your shoulder as you read, his eyes tracking the words as the story flows from your lips, his breath tickling your neck. The atmosphere in the room is almost balmy as his hands massage yours, fingers molding to the spaces in between. Your pussy occasionally clenches around his velvety cock, enjoying the way he filled and stretched the space inside. 
“Are you paying attention?” You tease and pat his cheek to draw his attention back to the story. His large hands had started to wander from yours and were flirting with your ribcage, cradling your breasts in his palms and squeezing enticingly. After a long day, the massage felt more relaxing than arousing and you indulge him for a moment before asking again. “Kento…the story.”
“I am paying attention darling. It looks like our protagonist accidentally discovered something he wasn’t supposed to.” He thumbs your nipples, which had already pebbled from the squeezing, through the sheets and you throw your head back onto his shoulder, biting your lip and letting out a hushed sigh. Your juices had steadily dripped from your core and were pooling at the base of his cock, leaving a ring of wetness on his hard shaft.
“Are you sleepy?” Kento’s lips ghost the shell of your ear and you mumble a tired yes. His chuckle resonates in your ear, deep and rich, and he takes the book away and places it on the nightstand. “It’s all right,” he reassures you as he starts to lay you both down on the bed. “We can find out what happens tomorrow.” He rearranges the sheets while you settle your head down comfortably on the pillow. Sleep overtakes you quickly but you can feel Kento pressing little kisses down your neck.
“Do you mind…?” He whispers, and your half-awake brain manages to slur a yes. You knew what he was asking, and you honestly didn’t mind. His snug cock thrusts ever so sweetly inside you as he tries not to rouse you too much from sleep, breathing steadily into your hair as he tries to orgasm.
The slick heat from being inside you for so long helps in his efforts, lazily stroking your inner walls at an unhurried pace. Your languid body barely stirs as he sets up a deliciously slow pace, quiet squelches issuing from your pussy as he rocks his hips against your ass. He bites his lip as he nears his climax, letting out a muffled groan as his hot cum is released into your warm canal. 
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“Darling…focus…” His clever fingers which were playing with your pulsing clit halt, and his cock, snug in your pussy, remains there, barely providing any friction. You whine and look at him pleadingly but he tuts at you, waving the little study booklet in front of your face. “Can you repeat what I was saying?”
Why had you agreed to let him help you study for the bar? Your lawyer boyfriend, so sinfully handsome and smart, was obviously worried about your progress. He accused you of getting too distracted, and the solution was to force you to study with nothing but distractions, hoping to improve your recall abilities. 
What he hadn’t specified was that it would involve sitting on your bed with his cock stuffed in your pussy  while you straddled him, repeating little vocabulary definitions and basic terms of law. Your poor, sloppy, pussy couldn’t stop dribbling, spilling all over him, as you tried to recall the words.
He smirks at your hazy expression, seeing your mind trying to gather itself back into a cohesive state. “Well?” he prompts you again. “Can you explain the concept of intent for this?”
“Ah…” your mind is fuzzy as your walls clench around his cock, still hard inside you. How long had he been doing this? “Mmm…intent…matters because…” Because why? Why did it matter? All that mattered was fucking. Fucking him, riding him, getting filled to the brim with his seed. 
“Tsk. Oh honey. You're never going to pass the bar at this rate.” His hands firmly hook themselves underneath your fleshy thighs. “Now repeat after me.”
He begins to pick up your frame, easing you off his cock before loosening his hands and letting you fall back into his throbbing erection with force, your ass cheeks slapping his thighs as you slide down all the way to his base. 
"It. matters. because. The. Mental. state. Of. a. client. Affects. Our. Ability. To. Prove their. Innocence.”
Each word is punctuated with his hands picking you up and letting you slide, the sound of your ass pounding back into his lap echoing through the room. Each time, the bulbous, mushroom head of his cock kisses your cervix and you swear you're seeing stars each time. You sob each time, your cunt squelching as it takes him all the way in, desperate for an orgasm that wasn't likely to happen. 
“Hiro… Please… Need to cum… study later…”
“You'll never improve if you can't study through the distractions.” His eyes are hooded and dark, barely able to restrain himself from wanting to fuck your brains out until you're spilling all over his thighs. Oh the sight of you, struggling to remember basic words, thoughts too occupied with his cock to remember even the most basic concepts relating to your job. 
“Tell ya what. I'll give you a scenario. If you can explain intent based on that I'll give you an orgasm. How's that?”
You look at him hopefully, still shivering from the intensity of his last movements, and nod. 
“Explain the intent behind a young woman who invites her boyfriend over to help her study for the bar but decides to answer the door in just her underwear.”
Oh the bastard. Feeling your patience snap you admit your motive.
“Clearly she wanted to get fucked nice and good but her boyfriend is a naive moron who really thought she wanted to go over flashcards.” 
“You’ve got the flash part down spectacularly darling.” Hiromi fondles your nipples and you whine, your cunt clenching around him like a vice. 
“Hiro please…”
“I suppose I could count that as an acceptable answer. Nice work.” He spanks your ass in appreciation. “Admission of guilt always helps. Now show me how you plan to alleviate it.”
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Your boyfriend was mean. You hadn’t really noticed it until just now. He was more of the type to tease you than anything else. Until you had suggested reading to him while sitting on his cock. 
For some reason, you had assumed he was going to be sweet about it. You hadn’t anticipated how hard he would make this for you. Your lips tremble and you’re a quivering mess as you hold up the book with shaky hands. Tears streak your cheeks as you try again, feeling Suguru’s thumb relentlessly playing with your clit, depriving you of just enough stimulation to keep you focused. 
“T-t-t-the for-forest i-is the…” You wet your lips trying to concentrate. “The fas-test way to the…hi-hi-hidden-”
“Too slow.” You squeal as Geto spanks your already swollen clit, the sting bringing back clarity to your senses. “I thought you were better than this. Are you so fucked out on my cock that you’re taking an hour to read a sentence?” The harsh slap of his hand on your wet folds makes them pulse and you squirm, and you close your legs to avoid the reprimand.
“Tsk. You really are a dumb whore right now.” A cry leaves your lips as he harshly pinches your nipple, twisting it cruelly. “Who told you to close your legs? You seemed pretty confident when spreading them open for me earlier.” Sniffing, you reluctantly part your legs and then let out a noise of discomfort as he slaps the little bud again. 
“Suguru…” you whimper pathetically only to have him roughly rub your clit again.
“Suguru.” He mimics in a high-pitched mocking tone. “What, you thought I would sit here all night while you take your sweet time? You haven’t even finished a page yet. Your cunt is going to be as empty as your brain if you don’t get it together.”
You whine and try again. “The solder…wanted to raid the amry… to get a sard- OUCH!” Suguru gave you a truly hard whack that sent you reeling, a confusing haze of pain and pleasure running through your body like an electric shock.
“What was that? Are you sure that’s even a word?” Slap. “Solder?” Slap. “Amry?” Slap. “Sard?” Slap. “The words are soldier, armory, and sword you stupid slut.” Each spank to your clit is punctuated with a yelp of pain from you. 
“Suguru! I’m sorry please-!” 
He pulls the book from your grip and tosses it aside. “This is why little whores shouldn’t try to brag about talents they don’t possess. Now why don’t you showcase the only real skill you have and cum on my cock like the desperate little cocksleeve you know you are?”
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© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating
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astralis-ortus · 3 days ago
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when it's less-than-ideal
✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader
— you can't judge a relationship only based on its good days.
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w.count → 0.9k genre → comfort, a dash of comedy at the end warning → chan referred to as chris, babe, my love; reader referred to as baby and babe; kind of sad but it ends well♡ a.n → basically i'm projecting what kind of relationship-slash-communication style i want in a relationship, so... yeah. think i'll be on my own for quite a while, lol. anyways! i also have an announcement here about requests, commissions, and fanart shop, do check it out♡ ⋆ see masterlist
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chris has been acting weird lately, and you don't know why.
you're usually not one to mind—given the way his schedules these days barely even spare the time for him to rest, you understand that your boyfriend is bound to be less like his usual self. you've sat down with chris to talk about it early in your relationship—the expectations, the ideal and less-than-ideal situations, the how-tos, and 4 years in, everything has all worked out just fine.
lately, however,
chris has been acting really strange.
"babe, i'm home," chris' voice softly echoed through the apartment, followed by the rustling of what you could assume is the layer of jacket and hoodie you got him to wear to battle the dropping temperatures of november seoul. "where are you?"
"kitchen!" you chirped, swiftly rinsing off the pots and pans you've been battling against for the past 10 minutes, "i'm still washing the dishes. are you hungry? i made some curry for dinner, it's in the—babe? are you okay?"
the cheeriness in your voice immediately turned into worry when you felt chris' arms around your waist, holding you tight as he allows himself to melt onto you, face buried in the crook of your neck.
after all the years of being at the receiving end of chris' special mix of physical affection, you've naturally learned to differentiate the meaning in your boyfriend's touches—is he just being affectionate? or is he trying to tease you? is he jealous of the interaction you had? or did he sense something and is trying to keep you safe? you have always been able to read chris just from the way his skin grazes upon yours, and so far you've barely ever been wrong,
but god, you sincerely hope you're hitting far from the mark this time.
"hey," you softly called out upon the absence of chris' response, quickly disregarding the dishes to rinse your soapy hands before turning to face chris' tired features, "is everything alright, my love?"
instead of an answer, chris simply leaned onto your touch as soon as your hands came to cradle his cheeks—ones freezing from the cold weather he just escaped moments ago, and only then, you realized just how long it has been since you've properly seen your boyfriend.
how come you haven't noticed the dark, looming shadow in his eyes? or the way his skin had lost its usual glow and instead grew dry with the season? how come you didn't see the way the corner of his lips had grown heavier, or the way his curls you oh-so adored had adopted its long forgotten frizz?
how come it took you so long to properly see chris?
"i'm sorry, baby," running the pads of your thumbs across chris' cheeks, you forced yourself to swallow the lump of guilt lodged in your throat, "i just realized i've been too inattentive to you, and i'm sorry. have you been wanting to talk it out with me?"
and only then, you saw the faint glimmer you fell in love with, peeking between the grey clouds in chris' eyes.
"yeah," despite the hoarseness in his voice, you could hear the warmth returning in the words chris uttered as he nodded, "but i just… i didn't know how to bring it up since i knew you've been dealing with your own stuff as well."
chris quietly exhaled, soft breath grazing your lips when he leaned his forehead onto yours and let his eyes fluttered close, allowing his walls of self-protection to finally crumble as he speaks, "i'm sorry, baby. it was never my intention to let this fester for this long or to make you feel bad in any way. i just didn't know how. i promise."
you know you're not perfect, and neither is chris—but you also know chris has always made it his life mission to make sure you're the happiest you've ever been when you're with him. one honest mistake will never erase the efforts and sacrifice chris has ever made for you, and you'll never let that happen.
"i know, baby," you hummed, lightly dragging the tips of your nails against his scalp when your fingers found the dark locks of his hair, "i don't blame you. i shouldn't have assumed about your condition and let it slip too. i won't let it happen again, i promise."
and you can feel the way chris' shoulder relax at the words you utter,
because just like him, he knows you'll do everything in your power to keep every single one of your promises.
"thank you, baby," chris pulled you into his embrace, completely engulfing you in his warmth while he pressed his lips on your forehead. "i promise i'll try to be better at this too, and thank you for being patient with me. i love you."
it didn't matter how many times have you heard chris whisper those three words in your ears, or how many times have he held you like you're everything that ever mattered to him,
chris will always make your soul feel the most alive it has ever been.
"i love you too, baby," you finally allowed yourself to smile as your arms found their way around your boyfriend's waist, holding him close as you listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat—
"…babe?"
"…yeah," chris sheepishly nodded while rubbing his stomach, "i haven't had lunch too, actually…"
a protest involuntarily slip past your lips along with the forming lines of frown between your eyebrows, perfectly portraying your disapproval of chris' course of action.
"go sit down, i'll fix your plate for you," shaking your head, you turned towards the pot of warm curry on the stovetop in faux disappointment before you continued,
"and we'll talk about whatever's been stressing my christopher out, okay?"
oh, you can definitely confirm,
the sound of chris' soft chuckle will never fail to bring a smile to your face.
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
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bloatedandalone04 · 1 day ago
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My Drug is My Baby
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➪the one where you and rafe can’t keep your hands off each other during your honeymoon.
Warnings: kook rafe/pogue reader, swearing, fluff (barely), smut, unprotected sex, semi-public smut, slight exhibition kink, hair pulling, dirty talk, size difference/kink, cock warming i think, spanking (whoops), rafe’s an ass man, i said what i said, he’s also a dom, bc obviously. (all i’ve been thinking about lately is rafe, so i’m doing something about it, yw).
Word Count: 2.5k
Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡
Rafe never thought he’d be one to get his life in order or find a nice girl to settle down with and get married to, but here he is in a stunning (and very expensive) resort in Florida with you by his side. 
Wrapped around your finger were two rings, one holding a large, heavy diamond, and the other being a simple wedding band. ‘Simple’, yet it was embedded with smaller diamonds. 
Around Rafe’s finger was a gold band that showed every girl at this resort who gave him the ‘fuck me’ eyes how committed he is to you and only you, and how they could waste their time all they want. He’d be a fucking idiot to ever let you go. 
It was kind of crazy to think that less than a year ago, you were just another Pogue and he was a Kook who vowed to never do more than sleep with someone who was much less privileged than he was, but now he is married to you. Really, the standards of the society pretty much flew right out the window the second he saw you. 
You were drop dead gorgeous, the most beautiful girl Rafe had ever seen. And though his friends told him to not waste his time with someone like you, Rafe was really fucking glad that he promptly ignored them and got you to go on a date with him, because less than four months after that date, you were engaged, and only five months later, you were married. 
And now you were on your honeymoon and even more clingy and touchy than ever. Rafe never thought of himself as a very touchy person, but with you, he wanted to touch you all the time. Holding your hand in stores or on the street, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind when standing in lines, having his arm draped around your shoulders while sitting on the couch, or placing his hand on your thigh while in a car. 
Right now, he was leaning back on a pool lounger with you in his arms, your back pressed against his bare chest as his fingers traced random shapes onto the skin of your stomach. For some reason, ever since that first date, Rafe couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you. You were so much smaller than him, but you fit perfectly against him, he couldn’t help but want to touch you everywhere all the time. 
He had fallen so in love with you in so little time, he wasn’t sure if the honeymoon phase would ever end. And honestly, he didn’t want it to.
The sun was beating down on the both of you, but the breeze from the empty, still pool helped keep you from overheating. You sighed quietly, leaning more against him as you closed your eyes, the sun still very bright even through your sunglasses. “It’s so pretty here, Rae,” you mumbled, turning your head to place a soft kiss to his heated skin. “Makes me want to never leave. I want to stay right here, with you, for the rest of my life.”
That sounded amazing to Rafe, and he wouldn’t mind starting every morning exactly like this for the next week. He’d gone all out on both the wedding and the honeymoon, spending a pretty penny on them to ensure you’d have the best experience during both events. The room you were staying in was huge, and it has a huge bed that Rafe had fucked you in for a solid hour on your first night here.
He couldn’t help it and he couldn’t be blamed. You were his wife now. You were all his.  
Rafe laughed, the deep sound vibrating your back as his breath tickled the shell of your ear. “I’d be more than willing to stay right here if you want to spend the rest of your life on top of me,” he teased, his fingers dipping lower to brush against the inside of your thigh. “We’ve got a whole week ahead of us, baby. A week of doing nothing but this all day. And you’re looking really fucking hot right now.” His other hand moved to grope your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple through the thin fabric of your bikini top as his lips found your pulse point and kissed it gently. 
“Rae,” you laughed quietly, pressing your thighs together as you leaned back against him more firmly, your sunglasses sliding down your nose until you just decided to take them off. “We’re in public…you can’t say that to me.” Your words were a feeble attempt at teasing him, because he had rented the room that came with the private pool and patio. No one was around to hear you, let alone see you. 
Rafe smirked, licking and sucking at your neck before he lifted his head, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I can say whatever the fuck I want to my wife,” he murmured into your ear, his hand sliding back up your thigh until his fingers grazed the edge of your bikini bottoms. His teeth gently tugged at your earlobe as his hand slid beneath the red fabric, his lips curving when he heard your sharp inhale. “Are you forgetting that this place belongs to us for the next eight days? No one’s around to see my pretty girl get all needy for me.”
“Rafe,” you whined, biting down on your lip as you arched your back and subtly spread your thighs a bit wider. You turned your head again and pressed your face against the side of his neck, brushing soft kisses along his skin. “God, you’re so hot, baby.”
Rafe groaned, his cock starting to harden as his fingers slid through your slick folds. “Mmm, you’re so wet for me,” he mumbled, his middle finger dipping inside your wet heat before he pulled it back out and brought it up to his lips for a taste. “So fucking good, baby.”
He leaned in and kissed you deeply as his hands gripped your hips, turning you on his lap so you’re properly straddling him. Slowly, he guided you to grind against him, the outline of his cock evident through the dark fabric of his trunks. 
“Ride me, pretty girl,” he rasped against your mouth, his fingers playing with the thin strings of your bikini on either side of your hips. One pull, and your lower half would be bare, and the thought was becoming more and more appealing to him the longer you moved on top of him. 
“Like this?” You asked, already breathless as you caressed his face in your hands, your clothed pussy rubbing against his cock through the fabric of his shorts. 
Rafe groaned, tipping his head back on the chair. “Exactly like that, baby,” he muttered, his hands gripping your ass as he guided you to move a bit faster. “Just like that.”
The rough fabric of his swimming trunks brushed deliciously against your clit, making you moan a bit louder and brace your hands on his shoulders for more support. 
You were so hot, Rafe couldn’t believe that you were all his. The sexy, shameless woman riding his lap in public was all his. 
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, leaning up and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue brushed against yours, one of his hands tangling in your hair as he bucked up against you. He broke the kiss, his head dropping onto your shoulder as he grunted, “I need to be inside you, baby. Right now.” 
With that, he wrapped his arms under your thighs and lifted you as he stood up, carrying you towards the sliding doors that lead back into the suite. You squealed, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist as you peppered kisses along his neck. “You love me so much,” you teased, nuzzling your nose behind his ear as he slid the door closed behind him, not bothering to close the curtains as he walked over to the bed and pulled at the strings of your bikini bottoms, letting the damp fabric fall to the floor. 
“Yeah, I fucking do,” he agreed, giving your ass a firm squeeze before tossing you onto the king sized bed. You bounced a bit as you tried to steady yourself, a needy whine of excitement leaving your lips.  “Get on your knees for me, baby.”
When you quickly turned around and braced yourself up on your hands and knees, Rafe stepped towards the bed, one of his hands running along the length of your spine. His other hand came down onto your ass, giving it a sharp smack that made a loud moan slip past your lips. 
God, you were so fucking sexy and so perfect for him, Rafe would never get enough. “That’s for getting me so addicted to you,” he mumbled before pulling at the strings of his shorts and pushing them down his legs. He propped one knee up on the bed next to yours, keeping one foot planted firmly on the floor as gripped your waist. “You’re so perfect, aren’t you? My perfect girl.” 
Rafe gripped the base of his cock with one hand, running his length along your wet folds before bumping his tip against your clit a few times. “Rae,” you whined, clearly getting more and more riled up from his teasing. 
He smirked before guiding himself inside you, your soaked walls making him slide in with ease. Rafe groaned, his teeth sinking into his lip as he refrained from railing you like he wanted to. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he muttered, his palm soothing your reddening skin from his previous smack. 
When he pulled back nearly all the way and then slid right back in, you let out a loud moan, your hands fisting the sheets of the unmade bed. “Fuck,” you whimpered, your head falling forward as he began to slowly fuck you from behind. 
“That’s it, baby,” Rafe grunted, moving his hips in slow, deep thrusts as he pulled at the string of your top, making the fabric hang loosely from your neck before you tugged it off and tossed it aside carelessly. 
He leaned down and pushed your hair to the side so he could press open mouthed kisses to the back of your neck, one of his hands reaching around to squeeze your breast. His grip on your waist tightened as he increased the pace, the soft slap of skin on skin filling the room as he began to pound into you. 
“Fuck, you feel so good. So wet and tight for me,” he panted, leaning over you as he changed the angle just slightly. Your moans grew louder, your arms shaking a bit as his cock reached even deeper inside you, making his lips turn upwards in a smug smirk. “You like that, pretty girl? You love being stuffed full of me, don’t you?”
Rafe’s mouth was filthy both in and out of the bedroom, something he knew you loved, and that was very obvious from the way you clenched around him and got even louder. “Yes,” you answered, your body jolting forward with every deep thrust. “Fuck…yes.”
It was hard to believe that ten minutes ago, you were simply in his arms by the pool, and now here you are, on your hands and knees for him as he railed you from behind, your body completely bare for his greedy eyes and hands. His perfect little wife.
“Fuck, listen to those pretty noises you’re making,” he grunted, his hand gripping your waist tightly as he guided you back onto his cock. You were so tight, he could literally see the way your walls hugged him and took him in so deep every time he entered you, and the sight had his abs tensing as he groaned loudly. His free hand slid up your back until he had a fistful of your hair, and he tugged your head back just enough for you to feel it but not hard enough to hurt you. 
The bed, though sturdy, clearly wasn’t prepared for the rough fucking Rafe planned to give you every day for the next week since it creaked with every thrust, and he briefly wondered just how many honeymoon’s this suite had seen, and how many horny newly-weds this bed had fallen victim to. 
One thing he knew for sure was that you were the prettiest bride that had ever and will ever stay in this room, and he was one lucky fucker. 
When he gave your hair a sharp tug, you let out a whiny moan and clenched around him again, and Rafe knew you were close. “Yeah, that’s it. Cum for me, baby,” he rasped, speeding up even more until you were mumbling and moaning incoherently as your head tipped back onto his shoulder. He kissed all over the side of your neck and face as you came on his cock, his grip on your hair loosening as he fucked you through your high. 
“Rae,” you whimpered, shaking in his arms as you relied solely on him to keep you upright. 
“I got you, sweet girl,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw as he slowed his pace, his own high creeping up on him. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, baby. You feel too good.” 
Your face turned a faint shade of pink as you leaned your head back on his shoulder, your arm lifting up as you tangled your fingers in his hair. “Cum for me, Rafe,” you encouraged weakly, nearly limp in his arms as you trembled from the sensitivity. 
His hand groped your breast, his thumb and index finger gently pinching your nipple as he buried himself as deep as physically possible and emptied himself inside you. “Fuck,” he grunted, pressing his face against the side of your neck as his hips jerked and stuttered, his cock filling you up with ropes of white. 
Once you had drained him of every drop, Rafe’s hand released your breast as his arm wrapped around your middle, slowly guiding you back on the bed as he leaned over you. 
“You’re so perfect, baby. I love you so fucking much, more than anything,” he mumbled, peppering your sweaty shoulder in kisses as he carefully rolled onto his side, pulling you with him so he was holding you from behind. “Stay just like this…I don’t wanna pull out yet.”
His words were slurred as his body still thrummed with the aftershocks, his big hand splayed across your stomach as he nuzzled his face against your neck. You hummed, pressing yourself more firmly against him. “Then stay inside me,” you mumbled, “We’ll stay like this for as long as you want to.” 
Rafe grinned lazily, holding you close to him. “I’m gonna hold you like this forever,” he said, his voice muffled against your neck as his thumb stroked along your stomach. “Never letting you go.”
Even though it was just past noon, you both had grown rather tired from that intense workout you just got finished doing. A quick nap sounded fucking amazing right now, especially if he got to stay connected with you and have your body wrapped up in his arms the whole time. 
This was heaven, Rafe decided, and he never wanted to go a single day without you ever again. 
And luckily, he would never have to.
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lovelytsunoda · 3 days ago
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its going to be a cold winter | lando norris
summary: it’s landos first christmas with his girlfriends family, and as long as he doesn’t let his ugly christmas sweater catch fire, he should be fine. right?
pairing: lando norris x female reader
warnings: family christmas content, lando and y/n both have some major moments of self doubt, but it's mostly just holiday fluff. some suggestive content, but barely any. i'm sorry its so short lmao i kind of lost steam towards the end, but i started out super strong!! it's a fic about nothing lmao enjoy it.
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frank sinatra played softly in the background of the country house as y/n puttered around, straightening the christmas pillows and lighting the pine candles throughout the house. her dad got a fire burning in the living room, and the kitchen smelled like warm apple pie. snow was falling gently outside, blanketing the roof of her old audi.
lando would be here any minute, and it was important that everything be just perfect.
it was their first christmas together, and y/n was anxious as all hell about having lando visit the house where she grew up. she knew that the country house was different from the house where lando grew up, and the lifestyle he was accustomed to now.
of course, she didn't know that lando was just as nervous as she was, anxiously drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as he pulled off the highway. what would her parents think of him? would they find him pretentious? too much of a player?
it was obvious as he steered his top-of-the-line mercedes into the gravel driveway, parking next to his lover's aging audi sedan that the environment where she grew up was so different from his. a decrepit volkswagen beetle sat next to the garage, no doubt a project for her dad to tinker with.
snowflakes dusted his hair as he attempted to maneuver the laundry basket full of wrapped presents out of his narrow trunk. he knocked on the door, hiding his shaking hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. he could hear music coming from inside, see the shadows of a figure rushing to open the front door.
"lando! you made it." y/n beamed, opening the front door, a wide smile on her face. she threw her arms around him, kissing him softly before brushing the snow off of his jacket. "i'm glad you're here. everybody is so excited to meet you."
lando stepped inside, cheeks flushed pink from the cold. as his hands began to thaw, family members came rushing at him from all sides, gushing about how they were glad he'd found the place all right, and how it was so lovely to meet him. y/n shooed them all out of the main hallway, but not before her mother managed to shove a christmas sweater into his arms, insisting that he wear it.
"let's try that again." y/n grumbled, clearly biting back a curse word as she wrapped her arms around lando's midsection, resting her chest just over from his heart. "thank you for coming. and mom's sweaters are horrific, please don't feel like you have to wear it."
lando chuckled, unfolding the sweater, which prominently featured a reindeer with a blinking nose, activated by a button hidden in the right sleeve. "why wouldn't i wear it? this thing is hysterical."
"here, let me help." she smiled, helping him out of the jacket. "and you didn't need to bring gifts either. nobody would have been mad if you didn't."
"baby, i think you're worrying too much." lando laughed, pulling the sweater on over his black t-shirt. "everything is going to be fine."
"says the man who worried the entire drive here and called me over his bluetooth three times before he got of the m60." she joked, poking him over the heart. "this is new for both of us."
the pair wandered through the house, converging in the living room with the rest of the family. a christmas tree stood against an exposed brick wall, and two young men in christmas sweaters just as atrocious as the one lando was wearing were sat by the fire with their arms around their partners. a four year old girl was running around the room with a jingle bell paddle in her hand, shaking it up and down. from the expressions on the faces of the other guests, she had been doing that for a while.
"lando, this is my cousin, james, and his wife alexandra. and this is my brother will and his girlfriend clara. the little munchkin in the red dress is eliza, james and alex's daughter."
"nice to meet you!" will said, getting up from the floor. "y/n has told us so much about you!"
"only good things, i hope." lando joked, shaking will's hand. she could see the nervous crinkle at the corner of his eyes, hear what was slightly off in his voice. she reached out to lay a ahnd on his back, fingers splayed, hoping it was reassuring. she felt him relax under her touch, and her heart burned with love for the mclaren driver.
eliza ran over towards him, waving a set of antlers in her hand. "these are for you." she giggled, standing on her tiptoes and reaching for lando's head, despite only coming up to his torso.
beaming, lando knelt down and allowed eliza to put the antlers on his head. he sat next to y/n on the couch, curled up with her as they listened to alexandra talk about how she met james.
"you don't need to wear the antlers if you don't want to. lize will lose interest in like, ten minutes."
lando made a face. "of course i want to. i want your family ot love me, and clearly its pretty easy to win eliza's affections."
she laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "i'm going to go and help mom and aunt deb with the honey potatoes. you'll be okay here by yourself?"
"of course he will!" will shouted. "we'll take good care of mr. mclaren for you!"
in the kitchen, y/n found her mom and her aunt puttering about, adding honey to the roast potatoes and pulling the apple pie out of the oven. it was wrapped in tinfoil, with brown sugar and apple goo oozing out of the graham cracker crust. she tied her hair back into a tight knot, reaching over her head to take a bone china mug out of the kitchen cabinet.
"i really like him." her mom said, a knowing smile on her face as she hugged her daughter. "you did good, sweetie."
"he's really good with eliza." deb noted. "so, are there any wedding bells nearby in your futures?"
"aunt deb!" y/n whined. "we haven't even been together a year yet."
"look at alex and james. they were only together for six months."
because they wanted to fuck and the church said they couldn't do that unless they were married, she thought cynically.
"i really do like him. he was so scared to come here today. i think he thought you'd find him pretentious."
"we could never." her mom laughed, pulling her in for a hug. "go spend some time with lover boy. your father and your uncle are coming in from the barbecue with the turkey in a few minutes."
"thanks mom." she kissed her mom's cheek before she grabbed her mug of hot chocolate and rejoined the other young folk in the living room.
lando stood next to the tree, laughing gleefully as eliza ran circles around him, wrapping him in tinsel. alex was laughing to herself, filming the encounter on her iphone. y/n stood watching in the doorway. lando looked up and met her eyes, winking at her dramatically before attempting to blow her a kiss.
later that night, after barbecued turkey and honey potatoes, with a dessert of warm apple pie and vanilla ice cream, lanod joined his lover on the couch with two fresh mugs of hot chocolate. she curled into his arm, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. the fire was crackling, and everybody was gathered around the tree for the gift exchange.
"i love you, lando norris."
"and i love you, y/n y/l/n." he replied softly, a peice of silver tinsel falling out of his hair.
"and i can't wait to get you out of this ugly christmas sweater." she whispered, voice husky. my old room is up in the loft above the garage, and it's pretty soundproof."
"i like the way you think, angel girl."
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certaimromance · 2 days ago
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𝜗𝜚 The Three-Month Rule.
Spencer Reid x BAU!reader
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Summary: The first time you decide to skip the celebration and go to bed early, and the first time Spencer decides to drink and open his heart to you after knowing you're leaving for three months.
Words: 5,5k (very long).
TW: fem!reader. spencer from the first seasons with glasses meow (my fav)+also he is a little drunk and lovesick puppy. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: These two are probably one of my favorites, this felt so warm to write and before you ask, yep, I've been thinking about a part two (maybe even more, who knows).
♡ Enjoy! ♡
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I. Moonlight ⏾
The night after closing a case with a positive outcome often involved celebratory drinks and lengthy discussions about everyday topics. For you and your colleagues, it was a rare opportunity for relaxation. It was a way to temporarily distance yourselves from the challenging situations you had encountered. A great way to relieve stress.
Typically, you would choose to remain in the chair situated in the center of the bar and sip your drink at a leisurely pace, allowing it to last all night as you chatted and shared lighthearted banter about various topics, though you would never discuss work. You were always smiling, as if nothing unfortunate had ever happened. And you always looked beautiful, so distant and impossible to catch.
Spencer always looked at you, biting his tongue to keep from sputtering out all the words that struggled to come out every time his eyes fell on yours. He didn't even take a sip of the drinks that were offered to him. As a rule, he didn't drink alcohol at all, and he liked it even less when he knew it could affect how he saw you. So clearly. So real. As if you were the most amazing work of art he'd ever seen, even if he wasn't very familiar with art.
Tonight, sadly, everything was different.
He had not been able to indulge in that particular pleasure of admiring you because you had chosen to return to your room rather than stay with the rest of the team at the hotel bar. It was a lie to say that it had not caught his attention. You had always stayed, even for a glass of water. But now you were...away from everyone. And then he was too.
The time passed rather quickly after he had a couple of sips of different fruity cocktails, which he didn't think would have any effect. Spencer was very mistaken. He found himself walking to the elevator before he had a chance to think things through. It didn't take him long to reach your hotel room. His footsteps were soft but urgent enough to go to the outside of the door. He just wanted to see you, needed to see you, and was already anxious about the reason why he wasn't allowed to do it now.
His knuckles knocked softly on your door with a certain caution, as quietly as possible, but just loud enough for you to hear, as he did his best to keep everyone else from hearing it as well. His hair was slightly disheveled, his glasses were out of place, and the top buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his collarbones underneath.
“It's me. Reid.” He spoke just loud enough to be heard through the door, his voice slightly raspy but still as soft as ever. “Can I talk to you?”
The sound of his call echoed too loudly inside the empty hotel room. Everything in the place was silent, still, with no lights or air conditioning. The room was almost dark, except for the streaks of city lights filtering through the curtains that ran over the large windows. You had been lying quietly and staring at the ceiling for no more than a minute and thirty seconds, your eyes blank and fixed on the ceiling after waking up so suddenly.
You gradually rose to a seated position and proceeded to the door. Without hesitation, you opened it to find his eyes filled with concern.
“Is everything okay? Are you okay?” Your voice was a little hoarse, and your eyes were still adjusting to the bright light in the hallway.
“I'm fine,” he replied, barely looking at your appearance. Your hair was a mess, and you looked sleepy. He hadn't realized how late it was. “Oh, sorry, did I wake you?”
Yes, of course. It was two o'clock in the morning.
You couldn’t hide the frown of confusion. It was late—far too late for a casual check-in—and yet here he was, standing before you with an air of unease that was so unlike him. “Don’t worry. What’s up?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe, trying to mask your concern.
Thousands of ideas crossed your mind at that moment. Maybe there was a new case, some new clue that would have reopened the four-day investigation that had just ended a few hours ago, or who knows what. The job was as unpredictable as your coworkers.
“I…” Reid’s words faltered before he even began, as if his thoughts were racing far ahead of him. His eyes flitted between you and the hallway, but he couldn’t seem to find the courage to make sense of his feelings, let alone speak them aloud. The alcohol was doing little to help his clarity of thought. It had been a few small sips; he had convinced himself, but now it was doing its work on his resolve. He was here. And he couldn’t walk away. “I was just…that.”
That's when you noticed something: he seemed a little off-balance, with a subtle flush on his cheeks and a lingering smell of alcohol. “Are you under the influence of alcohol, Dr. Reid?”
Oh. Oh. Oh.
If he was surprised to see you so sleepy, he got even more surprised by that question and by how close you've gotten to him. His eyes slightly widened at the close proximity between you both, his mouth slightly agape, and his brain almost completely frozen for a moment, before he shook his head quickly as an attempt to pull himself together. He cleared his throat before speaking, his words stumbling and incoherent.
“What? No, no, I’m not drunk.” He stammered, shaking his head as though trying to convince himself. “I just took a sip.”
Just a sip, two or three, after mentally rereading that ridiculous article about love he had read in one of the magazines in the lobby. The one that made him think about you and how you made him feel, the same one that revolutionized his emotions and his rational part to the point that he drank out of the wrong glass all night long.
“I see.”
Your gaze seemed to linger on his disheveled hair, unbuttoned shirt, mismatched glasses, and the subtle hint of color in his cheeks. You arched an eyebrow in response and took a small step forward to examine his face more closely. This was a version of him you were not entirely familiar with because Spencer Reid wasn’t a drinker.
“You seem a little nervous and flushed. Are you sure you're not drunk?” You asked with concern, noticing his demeanor.
Reid had to suppress a shiver when you moved even closer, nearly reducing his entire nervous system to a puddle of goo. He was incredibly aware of your proximity, like his brain had suddenly become hyperfocused on your existence and every move you made.
“Ah…y-yes, I'm s-sure I’m not-” He stuttered the words, feeling like a complete mess of nerves.
Something feels wrong…different.
You stepped forward, your eyes narrowing in on him, still uncertain but unwilling to leave him in such an odd state. “You’re sweating,” you observed quietly. “Come in. Sit on the bed. I have water.”
Without giving him the chance to refuse, you turned and walked into the room, leaving the door open for him to follow. He didn't even have a chance to react before he found himself inside your room, feeling like he was in a whole different world. Even though he was familiar with the space, as his room was exactly the same, somehow yours felt more comfortable and cozy.
Spencer followed you to the bedside table, still feeling a bit shaky. The scent of your perfume and the quiet of the room made him a bit nervous, but before he could say anything, you offered him a glass.
“Thanks.” He said, taking the water and sitting on the edge of the bed.
As he sat down, the bed sagged slightly under his weight, and he felt a surge of nervousness. Being alone with you in your hotel room suddenly felt incredibly intimate, and he found himself taking small sips of water to keep himself grounded. The drink was refreshing, but it didn't do much to calm the pounding of his heart in his chest. He avoided looking at your figure standing in front of him, focusing instead on the glass in his hands, fidgeting and nervously bouncing his leg.
“Okay, I have to ask now. You showed up at my door out of nowhere, looking like you'd just run a marathon, flushed like a tomato, and reeking of alcohol to boot.” You said, sitting down on the bed next to him. “So what brings you exactly here?” Your voice seemed to ring in his ears.
You. Only you. Forever you.
“I, uh, I came here to...I came here to...talk. I wanted to talk.” He managed to stammer, his eyes fixed on the glass of water.
“To...talk?” You repeated, your voice bringing back his attention. He suddenly felt tongue-tied, like he forgot everything he wanted to say right then and there. “About what?”
You, again.
Reid fiddled nervously, bouncing his leg up and down, and he suddenly felt the urge to pull at his shirt, feeling his skin too warm and overheating under his clothes. Why did it suddenly feel so hot in there, in your hotel room? He found himself unable to maintain eye contact again, but this time he found bravery in the depths of his mind and he managed to speak.
“I, uh…” He paused for a moment, his words becoming shaky. “I just...I just wanted to talk about you.”
Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that answer. But before you could say anything, Spencer spoke again as his thoughts burst out unfiltered.
“You’ve been quiet. I mean, since the case, and you left the bar early. You’ve been...different, sort of...I mean, not different-” His stammering was cut off by a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. He was rambling, and he knew it; he could feel how warm he was under the heat of your gaze, but he couldn’t stop his words from coming out. “I heard about the job offer in New York that you've accepted.”
In that moment, you frowned, confused by the drama that perhaps the influence of alcohol in his system was bringing. The job offer was more of an internship than anything else, something temporary, just for three months, not a permanent change of scenery. But for some reason, hearing his words made your heart sink.
You hadn't really expected anyone on the team to be so affected by your leaving for a while; everyone seemed too wrapped up in their own business to wish you anything more than a good trip. After all, the world didn't stop spinning, and serial killers didn't stop killing because you weren't around. You didn't consider yourself that indispensable.
“I just, I don't know...” He mumbled, rubbing his face again, tired of his own thoughts. “I just...I feel like...I might miss you a lot.”
His eyes closed for a split second in fear, but then he looked at you and saw that you were smiling.
“You really drank quite a lot today.” Your tone was gentle as you carefully adjusted his glasses and took the empty glass from his hands. He hadn't even noticed that he had already finished all the water.
The feeling of your fingers on his glasses made his brain buzz for a moment, and he found himself wishing it would last for just a few seconds more. But then the glass was gone, and he was left there fidgeting with his hands.
“I know.” He muttered weakly, feeling the heat and alcohol taking a toll on him. His mind felt foggy, his thoughts swirling around and getting more tangled by the second. “But that’s besides the point.”
“Spencer, you’re being impulsive and emotional.” You said it bluntly, leaning forward slightly. “You were drinking earlier; you're all sweaty, and you're rambling. That's what alcohol does to you…you get overly reactive.”
His gaze shifted to the floor, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed as he let out a shaky breath. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe I am being impulsive and stupid, but…it doesn’t make it any less true.”
The weight of his words hung in the air between you. There was a vulnerability in his tone that caught you off guard, like he was peeling back layers you hadn’t seen before. You studied him for a moment—the disheveled hair, the flushed cheeks, the way his shoulders slumped slightly under some invisible weight. This wasn’t the person you were used to—the analytical, composed genius who always seemed to have an answer for everything. This was someone raw, someone caught between logic and emotion, struggling to make sense of it all.
“I’m sure you’re incapable of being stupid,” you offered lightly, your tone tinged with a gentle tease, hoping to pull him back from the edge of his spiraling thoughts.
His head lifted, and his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “I think I love you,” he said, the words tumbling out in a single breath, unpolished but heavy with sincerity.
Your heart stopped for a beat, your breath catching in your throat. “Oh.”
His confession hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. For a moment, neither of you moved, the words settling like a weight in the room. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, as if realizing the enormity of what he’d just said, but there was no taking it back now. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he awaited your response, his vulnerability laid bare.
“You can be stupid, then.” You say it in a kind of joking tone, trying to process.
Does he love you? The same person you were afraid to touch so much for fear of making him uncomfortable. The same one who looked at you funny when you tried to fall asleep on the jet after drinking too much tea and said incoherent things. The one who always questioned your words with his statistics and exact data. Does he really love you? Can he do it?
It was impossible. Completely impossible.
“You’re a little too drunk to be saying things like that now,” you added gently, a note of concern creeping into your voice.
Carefully, you stood up, moving closer to him, your heart softening as you saw the way his fingers gripped the bed. He looked like he was already treading on the edge of something, but you weren’t sure he was in the right state to navigate it.
His brows furrowed slightly, a conflicted look crossing his face. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, though his words slurred slightly, and his eyes seemed unfocused. He shifted slightly but his balance was off, and his hand wavered as he reached for the glass that had once held water, only to stop and let it fall back onto the bedside table.
“No, you’re not,” you said softly, taking a step closer and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. His warmth was comforting, but it only made you more aware of how fragile he seemed at that moment. “You’re exhausted, and you’ve had too much to drink. You need rest.”
He tried to look at you, his gaze unfocused and blurry. “I don’t want to sleep…not yet. I want to…I want to stay awake with you.” His voice faltered, as if the words were fighting to stay coherent. “Forever with you.”
Did you hear that right? He said…? Really?
“You’re not going to stay awake all night,” you say, talking firmly but kindly. You could see the drunkenness in his eyes, and you knew he needed more than just a glass of water or a few minutes to collect his thoughts. “And you’re staying here for sleep.”
His lips parted in confusion, but you didn't give him a chance to argue. You led him to the bed, supporting him as he swayed slightly. He was too drunk to protest in that moment. Then, you helped him lie down, adjusting the pillows behind him so that he was comfortable. And you also took the time to remove his glasses and shoes, placing them on the bedside table and the floor.
“I’m fine,” he murmured again, but this time it was barely audible, and his eyes were fluttering closed as he relaxed into the bed, his breath evening out. He was fighting sleep, but the weight of his exhaustion was too much for him to push back any longer.
After a brief period of reflection, you sit on the edge of the bed and observe him as he moves slightly. His face appears relaxed, and the tension from before seems to have dissipated. However, there is still a subtle vulnerability in his demeanor: open, unprotected, and exposed in a way you had never seen him before. This only serves to deepen your desire to care for him.
You gently reached over, tucking the covers around him and brushing a lock of hair away from his forehead. “You’re too drunk to be making big decisions tonight, genius,” you whispered softly.
His eyelids fluttered open for a moment, his bleary eyes locking onto yours with a faint sense of clarity. “I didn’t…mean to make you uncomfortable,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “I care about you.”
A small smile appeared on your face, your heart aching as you brushed another strand of hair from his forehead. “I know,” you whispered.
His hand reached up weakly, grazing your wrist before falling back to the bed. He blinked a few times, his words coming slower now, as though the weight of sleep was already pulling him under. “I care about you so much,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time, as though he were fading away in the middle of his confession.
You let out a gentle sigh, your thumb brushing his knuckles in a soothing gesture. “I care about you too,” you said, your voice calm but filled with warmth, though you kept your tone soft to keep him relaxed. “But right now, you just need to rest. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about all of this, okay?”
Spencer nodded weakly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Okay...” He murmured, his breathing muffled even more as his body relaxed on the bed and his gaze rested on you, on every feature of your face. “I think you're very pretty, and not just physically by genetics...you're very, very pretty. I could look at you forever, even if, technically, forever doesn't exist for humans.”
At any moment, your heart would leap out of your chest, or you'd probably vomit butterflies. It was too much sweetness in a Spencer way.
You remained by his side, sitting on the edge, keeping watch over him for a few moments. It felt strange, being so close to him in this way. You hadn’t expected this moment, hadn’t expected his confession.
But for tonight, all you could do was let him rest and let him find peace in his sleep. You brushed one last strand of hair away from his face, then, with a soft sigh, you stood and pulled the blankets up around him.
The silence of the room enveloped you as you settled into bed, careful not to disturb him. You remained seated for a moment, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, his features softened by sleep. In the darkness, Spencer seemed different, more fragile, more human. His usual confidence in every word that came out of his mouth, the brilliant mind that made him so formidable, gave way to something more tender.
You cautiously stretched out your legs and leaned against the headboard. Sleep still seemed a long way off, even though the fatigue of the long case closed in the afternoon weighed heavily on your body. But your thoughts refused to calm down and leave you alone for a moment. His confession kept repeating in your mind, driving you and your heart crazy.
Not knowing what else to do, you let out a long, slow sigh, your fingers brushing the edge of the blanket wrapped around him. He stirred slightly, moving closer to your side as if subconsciously seeking your comfort and closeness. He tilted his head in your direction, a faint smile on his lips, and the sight brought a pang to your chest.
“What am I going to do about you, Spencer Reid?” You murmured to yourself, with a curious sensation in your chest.
You leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling as the questions began to tumble one after another. What if he hadn’t been drinking? Would he still have said those things? Did he even fully realize the gravity of what he’d shared, or was it just a moment of emotional release brought on by the late hour and the relief of a solved case?
And then there was your own reaction. The warmth in your chest, the protectiveness that surged when you saw him looking so vulnerable—it wasn’t new. You’d felt it before in smaller ways: a fleeting moment of connection during a case, a shared glance that lingered just a little too long. You’d always chalked it up to admiration or friendship, but now…
Now it felt like the beginning of a bridge you weren’t sure you were ready to cross.
Another sigh escaped you, and you tilted your head to glance at him again. His hand had slipped out from beneath the blanket, resting loosely against the mattress. Without thinking, you reached out and let your fingers brush against his, barely touching. His skin was warm, his presence grounding in a way you didn’t quite understand but didn’t want to question.
II. Sunlight ☀︎
The first thing you noticed when you woke was the soft warmth of sunlight spilling through the blinds, bathing the room in a quiet, golden glow. It was a still moment, the world outside almost silent, save for the faint hum of traffic far below. For a second, you weren’t sure where you were. The unfamiliar bed, the softness of the sheets, the absence of noise..it all felt distant, like a dream you couldn’t quite grasp.
But then you felt it, a slight weight on your arm. You turned your head slowly, your eyes softening as you took in the sight of Spencer still asleep beside you. His face was turned towards you, half-hidden by the pillow, a lock of hair falling over his forehead. His hand lay just a breath away from yours; his body curled slightly, seeking warmth and comfort. The usual lines of stress and guardedness that creased his features during the day were gone, replaced by a peace you rarely saw. He looked unguarded, almost childlike in his vulnerability, and it made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t explain.
For a moment, you just watched him, your mind replaying the events of the night before. Especially the way he’d reached for your hand, even in his half-conscious state, like it was instinctive and natural.
And now, here you were, lying next to him, watching him sleep like it was normal and meant to be.
You shifted your position slightly, being careful not to disturb him, and sat up, propping yourself up on your elbow. The room was silent, except for the faint hum of traffic. That stolen morning moment felt intimate to you, and you found yourself wondering how much Spencer would remember when he woke up.
Would you regret it? Would you want to go back and erase it all? Would he stop talking to you forever?
But then, it was almost as if he was meant to give you all those answers because he stirred. His hand moved, his breathing changed, and slowly but surely, his eyes opened. At first, Reid was dull and unfocused as he blinked in the morning light, feeling a sharp headache. Then, as he realized where he was, you saw his expression change: confusion, a flash of concern, and finally recognition.
“Morning,” you said softly, trying not to startle him.
He blinked again and frowned, feeling a twinge in his head. “Morning,” he replied, his voice groggy. He glanced around the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, the tangled blankets, and then you.
You were sitting on the bed next to him—the first thing he saw when he woke up and the first person to greet him. It was just like the kind of dream he'd been having lately—only this time he wasn't asleep.
A brief silence fell as the pieces seemed to click into place in his mind. His lips parted slightly, his eyes widening just a fraction. “Wait,” he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Last night…”
You gave him a small, reassuring smile, though your heart was racing, unsure of what he might remember, or worse, what he might regret. “You remember?” you asked, your voice quiet but steady.
His hand came up to rub his forehead, trying to shake the lingering fog of sleep. “I think so,” he said slowly. “We finished the case. We went to the bar.” His voice faltered, and his eyes dropped to the bed, as though searching for something solid in the scattered blankets to steady him. “I came here and said…some things, didn’t I?” His words hung in the air, filled with hesitation and a growing sense of discomfort. His cheeks flush, and he quickly looked away from you, almost embarrassed.
You tilted your head, your smile softening. “You said a lot of things.”
Spencer’s cheeks deepened in color, his hand dragging down his face as if that could somehow shield him from the weight of the moment. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean to put you in that position.”
You frowned, leaning forward slightly. “You don’t have to apologize. Not for talking to me.”
His eyes flicked to yours, searching your face for any hint of reproach or discomfort, but all he found was warmth. Still, he hesitated, his fingers playing nervously with the edge of the blanket. “I was drunk, and that’s so embarrassing,” he murmured, his tone tinged with self-reproach. “I don’t even know if what I said came out right.”
“It came out right,” you assured him gently, reaching out to cover his fidgeting hand with yours. The touch stilled him, his wide, uncertain eyes locking onto yours. “And it was just the alcohol talking…I know, don’t worry.”
He stared at your hand covering his, his throat working as if trying to form the right words. He didn’t pull away; if anything, he seemed to steady himself in your touch, though his voice wavered when he finally spoke. “It wasn’t just the alcohol,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “I don’t want you to think that it made me say something I didn’t mean. Everything I said was true.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but the vulnerability in his eyes made the words catch in your throat. He held your gaze, his fingers unconsciously brushing against yours as though grounding himself in the moment.
“I’ve felt this way for a while,” he continued, his cheeks still faintly pink but his voice growing steadier with each word. “I didn’t know how to tell you. And then last night, I guess…I couldn’t hold it back anymore.”
His honesty was like a punch to the chest, leaving you breathless and unsure of how to respond. You hadn’t expected this level of candor, not so soon, and certainly not first thing in the morning. You pulled your hand back gently, needing space to think, though the warmth of his touch lingered like an echo.
He really meant every word.
“Spencer,” you began, your voice cracking. You bit your lip, searching for the right words. “I don't know what to say. It was all so sweet and nice to hear, but I'm not sure I'm ready to find out what this means, especially not with–”
“The distance,” he finished for you, his voice soft but resigned. He looked down, nodding slightly as though he’d anticipated this. “You’re leaving for New York soon.”
You exhaled slowly, relieved that he understood but also pained by the way his shoulders seemed to slump ever so slightly. “It’s just three months,” you said gently, though the words felt hollow.
“I know, since I found out I did the math, and it's three months and four days.” He pointed out, almost not noticing that your cheeks had flushed slightly. “What I need to know is if you...if you have feelings for me, as more than friends.”
“Yes, I do.”
At that moment, it seemed that after almost a year of hiding his heartbeat for your sake, he could finally let his heart beat as much as he wanted.
But then you talk again.
“But it’s not fair to either of us to make any big decisions now, when I have to leave soon. I don’t want to risk ruining what we already have if we…if something doesn’t work.”
He looked at you, his expression serious. “But what if it works well?” Reid asked, his voice barely above a whisper. There was no despair in his tone, only quiet hope. “What if it's so much better that we have between us now? Isn’t that worth the risk?”
His question settled between you, heavy and unanswerable in the moment. It wasn’t desperate or pleading—it was simply Spencer, laying his heart bare with a quiet hope that made your chest ache.
“I'm not sure,” you replied, your expression thoughtful. “Three months is a significant amount of time,” you added, striving to acknowledge his feelings while maintaining a degree of caution.
“I can wait if it's for you. I can.” He replied without hesitation.
The unwavering certainty in his voice and the calm patience he offered you were more than you expected. Perhaps even more than you thought you deserved.
“You shouldn’t have to wait for me,” you said softly, your gaze falling to the sheets. “It’s not fair to ask that of you.”
Spencer shook his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You didn’t ask,” he replied gently. “This is my choice.”
“What if the distance changes things? What if we lose this…connection?” you asked, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.
“Then we’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice steady but kind. “Like I said, it’s not like I haven’t done the math before. Three months isn’t forever, and if what we feel is real, then it won’t fade.”
In that moment, it was like a light bulb went off in your head, and the perfect solution just came to you.
“Exactly.” You pointed out with a small smile. “You know the three-month rule?”
Never before had you seen Dr. Reid confused, denying knowledge of any subject. It was as if the alcohol of the night before had caused a circuit breaker in his brain, or else you had no explanation for having to explain something he didn't know, and you did.
“A few weeks ago, I was drinking coffee and overheard a woman at the next table talking about how the first three months between two persons are enough to indicate whether they have a future or not.” You began to explain quickly, feeling a bit strange at how the usual roles between you seemed to have been turned upside down. “You know, if they're going to make it as a couple.”
Spencer’s brow furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he considered your words. “You mean…is like a trial period?” he asked, a hint of doubt in his voice.
You nodded, feeling a flicker of nervous energy coursing through your entire body. “Yes, that's exactly it. So we don't have to put a label on it right away or rush into it. But we could call, text, talk, maybe visit...just see how it feels. And when I officially come back, we'll know if it's something we really want to pursue.”
He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying yours as though weighing the sincerity in your suggestion.
“Okay,” he said, his voice soft but resolve. “Three months. We’ll figure this out.”
Relief flooded you, though it was tempered by the uncertainty of what lay ahead. “Three months,” you repeated, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “And we’ll talk. Be honest. No expectations and the assurance that we can be friends again if we want.”
Spencer’s smile grew a fraction, and this time, when his hand reached for yours, it was deliberate. “Honesty,” he echoed, his thumb brushing lightly against your knuckles. “I can do that.”
For the first time that morning, the tension between you eased, replaced by a fragile but undeniable sense of hope. It wasn't a resolution, not quite, but it was a step forward, a promise to try. And for now, that was more than enough.
Because night before, you'd gone to bed early, thinking you didn't have much of a future at the BAU. But now you had Spencer with you in a way you'd never thought possible, and everything feels right.
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pboogerswbb · 1 day ago
Text
TOO LOST IN YOU - part IV
Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc
playlist, part I, part II, part III
Warnings: smut and i mean FILTHY OK, toxic!paige, kinda cheating, language, etc.
Wordcount: 7.4k (sorry but there's smut ok)
A/N: TY for being so patient with me, i've been feeling sick but slowly getting better and finally got this done. finally some fluff for y'all. also please leave feedback/live reactions I LOVE THAT SHIT! ok enjoy guys mwah <3
-
“You’re joking, right Paige?” A frustrated voice comes through the speaker as I lean back on the couch, spreading my legs to find a more comfortable position. The game of fortnite me, Aubrey and Ice had been planning on for like a week was turned down, not wanting the phone’s mic picking up the sounds.
“‘M afraid not,” I mumble into the phone, biting my lower lip in concentration. I was so close to getting a kill if I could just finally hang up, but here I still was, fifteen minutes of going back and forth on some topic that didn’t need all this drama with a girl whose last name I’d forgotten.
“But it’s my birthday,” Clara whines into my ear. Watching my character get killed, I groan and tilt my head back, throwing the controller onto my grey sweats.
“I know, baby. Look we can do a lil something next week, lemme make it up to you,” I say into the phone, needing to get this girl to get off my ass. “I promise.” I didn’t mean that though, it was just empty words.
Truth was I just needed some time, after what happened the other night with Valerie I had felt my thoughts chipping away at me. The things running through my head had made sleeping impossible and practice even worse. The lack of control I felt when she was around me was terrifying. I needed a night just with my girls, badly.
I felt tense, distracted.
“Clara, whatchu want me to do? it's an emergency.”
To get away from Clara’s plans for the night Aubrey and Ice had helped me to come up with an elaborate lie about me “pulling a muscle in my wrist and it needed resting”. I hadn’t found it as believable but for Clara it worked.
The girl’s soft sigh comes through the phone. “Fine, ok. But you gotta make it up to me.”
“I will I will,” I mumble, unaware of what I’m really saying, stuffing my mouth with a fistful of popcorn from a bowl on the couch. Sitting cross legged on the floor, Ice lets out a loud laugh, quickly covering her mouth as I give her a scolding look, pointing to the phone. Thankfully Clara doesn’t hear a thing.
As the new game begins I quickly grab the controller from my grey sweats, I needed to wrap up this call quick.
“I wish you’d let me come take ca-”
“Gotta go Clara, happy birthday,” I yell hurriedly into the phone before Clara could even finish, hanging up the phone and throwing it onto the couch which makes Aubrey and Ice snicker.
-
“Bro you suck at this game!” I yell at Aubrey who looks at me offended.
“Nah, that wasn’t my fault!! It was Ice!!” she scoffs.
The ringing of my phone interrupts the conversation. Before I can pick it up, or even complain about Clara getting clingy, the sound stops. Not to sound too cocky or like a piece of shit but if it was one of the girls on my roster, that ringing wouldn’t have stopped for a minute. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the power I had over some of these chicks, how they stayed up till 4am just to see if I called them up. They didn’t need to let me know it’s what they did, I knew all too well.
I grab my phone and quickly unlock it. With wide eyes and heart fluttering, I dial back.
“Paige I thought we were gonna have a girls’ night,” Aubrey groans but my finger comes up to shush her when I hear a soft voice come through the phone.
“Hey?” 
“Valerie?” I ask, I can barely hear her from the loud traffic nearly burying the sound of her voice.
“Wh- why are you callin’ me?” she asks, her words are slurred enough to let me know she’s drunk. Even so, hearing her sweet voice might as well have been a choir of angels singing. 
“You called me, mama,” I chuckle softly, walking away from the girls to hear better.
There’s a moment of silence between us as I slide into my own dorm room, closing the door behind me, leaning against it. 
“Oh… uh I was trying to call Paige,” she murmurs and loudly gasps. I can hear her slapping her own mouth and a cocky smirk grows on my face. “JAY, JAY I WAS. I was trying to call Jay.”
The bite on my lower lip stuffles the laugh I let out. Honestly, it made me feel a little smug knowing she said my name instead of hers. I wonder if I was really on her mind that much. It had been quite a long time since I had wondered anything like that.
“Ohh right… Justine,” I joke, the name making me giggle each time. This time, Valerie giggles too. 
“Don’t make fun P.”
“Alright alright,” I chuckle walking over to my bed and sitting down on it, pulling down my sweats a little so my boxers peak out. Faint screaming in the background of the call reminds me of why Val called in the first place - she’s drunk. “Woah, where you at Val?”
A deep sigh comes through the phone. “I dunno where my friends went, they were my rideee,” she whines, the sound of the cars making it hard to hear her. I lean forward resting my elbow on the knees.
“Did you call ‘em?” I ask, concerned over how drunk she was. How could her friends just dip? I’m gonna need to have a word with them.
“I’m nodding,” she slurs out and groans frustratedly. “Such a long way to walk,” Valerie whines again.
I’m already reaching for my keys when the words come out of my mouth. “Drop your location Val.”
She groans. “I’m walking by the highway.”
“You’re WHAT?” I yell into the phone, throwing on a puffer vest over my grey sweatshirt, struggling to get my shoes on. This girl was gonna get herself killed I swear.
“Relaaxxx.”
“Sit down and drop your location, I’m comin to get you ma.”
“Paige you’re so dr-”
“Sit your ass down. I’m so forreal now Valerie.” I command, without even waving a careless bye to the girls as I rush out, the plans for a girl’s night quickly forgotten. After a whine and a sigh from the drunk girl on the line I hear her set herself onto the ground.
“Fine,” her voice murmurs and I sigh in relief.
All of the fury I felt at her for being so careless goes away when I see her, in boots and a leather jacket thrown carelessly over her skimpy dress, sitting on the ground playing with the ends of her golden brown hair. I pull the car over, quickly rushing to her. How could her friends leave her in a state like that? From now on I should watch over her all the time, just to make sure she doesn’t get in trouble.
Nevermind her friends, how could Jay let this happen? If Valerie was my girl she would not be alone like this, yet alone going out without me at all. She needs someone who takes care of her, who truly cherishes every single thing about her. 
“Paigeyyy,” she smiles as I reach down and pick her up, her hair was a mess and eyes bloodshot and tired. There’s a strong smell of alcohol as Valerie wraps her arms around me, but I don’t mind. I wanted to be mad at her for being so irresponsible, for making me come get her. But I couldn’t be.
I grin as I help steady her. Anyone could notice she’s gleaming looking up at me. Usually that would make my chest tighten, make me feel sick and claustrophobic. Now, for some reason, I felt like gleaming too.
“C’mon silly girl, before you get in more trouble,” I murmur, opening the door and making sure she gets in the car, helping her with the seatbelt.
“I got it Paige,” she laughs as I reach over her lap, grabbing the belt but I slap her hand away gently, biting the inside of my cheek to stifle the way I wanted to smile, the butterflies growing inside me.
“Lemme do it ma,” I tell her hoarsely. She’s grinning at me stupidly as I buckle her in, my fingers running along her neck to fix the belt. When our eyes meet just for a moment, it takes every bit of my self discipline not to kiss her, the way her tongue slides over her lips enticingly.
The drive back is quiet, soft R&B the only sound filling the car. I hum along to the songs, tapping the steering wheel to the beat. Valerie watches as she rests her head against the seat. An involuntary smirk takes over my face, my eyes flicking from her to the road to my speed. I was driving much more carefully than usual, I had something precious to take home.
“You admirin’ the view?” I tease earning a lighthearted scoff from Valerie.
“No I’m… thinking,” she explains slowly, moving her eyes to the road too. Suddenly she wasn’t so giggly, but seemed to be sobering up.
“I got some water in the back if you need,” I tell her, already reaching for it, other hand on the wheel as I lean back on the driver’s seat.
She reaches for it with me, our fingertips brushing against each other as I hand it over. “Thanks,” she murmurs and takes a few big gulps.
Valerie’s shoulders slump as she takes a deep sigh, I know her well enough that something was clearly on her mind. 
“I lied P,” she says, her voice small. For a moment a wave of confusion washes over me, and I look at her expectantly. My first assumption is she’s talking about what happened between us in the bathroom, about how she hadn’t told Jay about it.
“‘S okay Justine don’t have to know,” I quickly console but Valerie is shaking her head.
“No I meant… Fuck, I mean I did mean to call you,” she let’s out, frustrated. “It wasn’t an accident.”
I swallow, feeling a heat rise to my cheeks. Was I… blushing? I must be more whipped than I realised.
“Oh yeah?” I ask, my tone a little too needy for my liking - I didn’t want her to think, no, to know I cared. That it mattered to me. Valerie could never know how I felt. I would just end up fucking everything up, at least now I had basketball. That’s enough.
“I just… I dunno I don’t wanna go to my dorm,” Valerie sighs, fidgeting with her fingers on her lap.
“Why’s that?”
“Jay’s waiting for me,” Valerie says with a slight shake in her voice.
Oh. 
At first I’d been more jealous than I’d like to admit, the idea of Valerie, my Valerie, with someone else made me sick. But running into them at that party I knew Justine could never do what I could. But most importantly, Valerie didn’t shine the way she did with me with Justine. I had an inkling there was nothing to be jealous of, and got my confirmation in the bathroom. But now, I only felt more validated. She didn’t even want to be around her. She drunk called me, not her.
“‘S that why you got so fucked up? Because of Jay?” I try to sound nonchalant, like I didn’t care. But I needed to know for sure. I needed to know I wasn’t delusional in thinking she couldn’t just move on from me, from us.
“Something like that,” she chuckles and shifts in the seat, sipping her water still. Without thinking it through, what it might mean, what it says about my feelings, the words slip out.
“I can take you to mine,” I suggest, knowing full well my biggest rule was not letting girls sleep over. I guess my rules had gone way out the window with Valerie.
She scoffs and shakes her head, my heart aching at her disapproval. “No P, it can’t happen anymore, I mean it this time.”
A scoff leaves my mouth as I pull up to the campus parking lot.
“I didn’t mean that dumbass, I mean just to sleep,” I groan, parking my jeep. “I’ll even sleep on the floor.”
Valerie looks at me wide eyed and dumbfounded. Guess I wasn’t coming off as nonchalant as I’d have liked. I felt a strange feeling grow inside me that I could only call nervousness. It had been a while since a girl had made me feel anything even close to it.
“Okay,” Val nods and a wave of relief takes over me - I didn’t want her to go yet. Being with her felt good.
“Okay,” I repeat watching her start getting out of the car. I do the same and we head towards my dorm. Without thinking about it much, my hand wraps around her waist, whether to hold her up or to touch her I’m not sure.
Jana and Allie are in the kitchen talking, their heads peeking out when we come in the door. Meeting their gazes I realise I have never introduced a girl to my teammates.
“Yo, uh, this is Valerie,” I say a little awkwardly, the new situation making me unsure of how to act. Allie and Jana share a look that I pray the drunk brunette clinging to my arm didn’t notice. Looking down I see she’s too busy struggling getting her shoes off. Without thinking about it, I kneel down and my fingers unbuckle the strappy heeled sandals she was wearing, my touch on her skin tender and careful.
“Hey girl,” Jana says intrigued, waving her hand at us. As Valerie nearly trips, she lets out a loud giggle, my hand gripping her thigh, steadying her.
“Whoa there,” I chuckle, standing up from the ground as the brunette slaps her face with her hand, bashfully.
“I’m sorry I make a much better first impression when I’m not drunk,” her sweet voice lets out and somewhere deep down I feel my heart flutter at the idea of her wanting to make a good impression on my friends. Jana and Allie both let out friendly laughs as I guide Valerie towards my room.
“She’s gonna sleep here tonight, that cool?” I ask as we pass my roomies, who are both nodding but clearly shocked at the prospect of me letting a girl sleep over.
I bring the brunette to my room by her hips, closing the door behind us as she throws herself face first onto my purple sheets. She looked good like that, in my room, on my bed, burying her nose into my blanket. For a fleeting moment I let myself dream of an alternate universe where she could be here waiting for me, all the time. Only for a moment though.
“C’mon ma let’s get you ready for bed,” I suggest softly, walking to the bed. She groans and flips onto her back, my eyes flickering to her upper thighs where her dress had hiked up. A sudden need to touch her comes over me, but I push it away. It wouldn’t be right like this.
“But your bed’s so comfyyy,” Valerie lets out a whine as she stretches, her pretty eyes fluttering shut. I can’t help the smile that forms on my face, my heart aching at how cute she looked like this - drunk and tired, mascara flaking underneath her eyes and a small pout on her lips.
Throwing her a navy blue Uconn shirt to sleep in is finally enough to get her to sit back up, her eyelids half closed as her hands start pulling her dress down.
With wide eyes I quickly turn my back to her, staring at the wall. As much as I wanted to, it didn't feel right to watch her change. Valerie only giggles, and I hear her stand up and shimmy out of her clothes, my mouth growing dry from the filthy thoughts in my head right now, the way she was completely bare behind me.
“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before P,” she says teasingly and I almost groan, my mind jumping through memories of the way she looked in just a pair of panties, the curve of her ass, the way her tits sat pretty on her body, that long golden brown hair trailing down her back. Fuck. I felt myself getting wet. I rub my jaw frustratedly, trying to shake my dirty thoughts.
“Just get dressed Val,” I murmur, my voice hoarse with need. Finally, she obliges, throwing on the t-shirt I gave her. It’s not enough to stop my filthy thoughts, seeing her in my shirt and a pair of white lacy panties, thick thighs all on display, nipples hard and visible through the shirt. No. This wasn’t the time.
Valerie is about to crash back into the bed right when I grab her waist to keep her upright.
“Wanna sleep,” she whines as I guide her towards the bathroom.
“I know ma, in a little bit I promise,” I nearly whisper. It was the first time in my life I had promised anything to a girl and meant it.
Closing the bathroom door, I sit Valerie on the counter, her feet dangling off the edge which makes me smile. Grabbing a brand new toothbrush I try to hand it to Valerie, but her head is almost nodding, eyes completely shut now. This girl would be the death of me.
I wet the toothbrush, and gently holding her face, I brush her teeth. My face is only inches from hers as I watch her start to smile, realising what I was doing. For a moment her eyes flicker open and meet mine, and I feel something I have never felt before. I can’t name it, or quite place it, but the warmth in my chest, the blush on my cheeks and the way my breath hitched made itself known.
“Thank you,” Valerie murmurs, her mouth full of foam. She spits it into the sink, rinsing her mouth as I hold her hair, so incredibly softly, as to not hurt or disturb her.
“Let’s get this makeup off mama,” I say mostly to myself, wiping it all off with some micellar water, trying to be as gentle as I could. Her brown eyes roam my face, making me feel flustered.
“What about my skincare routine?” Valerie asks with a furrow of her brows and I chuckle, shaking my head, going over her face with a cotton pad.
“You don’t want me doin’ that, trust,” I murmur as I’m finally done. Watching her, the way her long dark lashes fluttered, her plump lips and soft skin made a shiver run down my spine. She must’ve been the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, even more so like this.
I suddenly notice that my hands are rubbing on the skin of her bare thighs as she watches up at me. I can’t help myself when I lean down and press my lips against her forehead, the tenderness of it making my eyes close. Valerie hums and wraps her arms around my neck, her legs doing the same as I pick her up like that, holding her up by her thighs. Her skin was soft and warm underneath my fingertips, sending sparks all over me. 
I carry her to my bed as she clings to me, gently laying her down on my bed and tucking the blanket over her, brushing a strand of hair off her face.
“I’mma get you some water and go sleep on the couch ok?” I murmur, my fingers brushing against her cheek. Her hands urgently grab my wrist and pull me closer.
“Don’t go,” she whispers and my heart nearly breaks at the way her voice sounds, pleading. 
“You sure Val?” I ask carefully.
“Please.”
It doesn’t take more than that to have me throwing off my clothes, leaving me in black boxers and a Nike sports bra and climbing into bed next to her. I carefully lay my head down onto the pillow, studying her features. The curve of her nose, the way her eyebrows arched, the hint of red on her cheeks from the alcohol. Her eyes flicker open, meeting mine as we stare at each other in the dim room. I could feel the heat of her breath on my face, and she inches her head closer, our noses brushing against each other. I nearly whimper at how good it felt, being this close to her.
My blue eyes travel to her lips, the way they glistened as her tongue brushed over them, the way her lower lip was that much more plump than the upper one. In the haze of the night, it’s like I’m outside of my body, unable to control myself when I lean in and kiss her. Immediately Valerie hums, and I think I’m in heaven when her mouth opens to move against mine.
We had kissed plenty of times. But it was never without fucking afterwards. This was completely new, kissing just because. I didn’t know kissing with no end goal could feel this good. I breathe heavy and loud through my nose as our lips move against each other, Valerie’s hand pulling me closer from the back of my neck. My hand on her waist slides underneath the t-shirt and I press my body flush against hers. I feel all of her, the bare skin of her legs wrapping into mine, her breasts against me. But it’s enough for me. Just to have her like this. 
“P?” Valerie whispers, as I nuzzle my nose against her, breathless from the kiss.
“Yeah?” I murmur softly, the overwhelming warmth in my chest feeling dizzying.
“I-” she hesitates. “I know you don’t… like when girls spend the night-”
I stop her with a kiss, more for my own sake than hers. It might drive me insane if I have to think about it for longer than ten seconds. The way I was bending all my own rules, the feelings deep inside me. I felt terrified. I didn’t wanna think about it right now.
“You needed me Val,” I whisper against her lips, knowing it wouldn’t be a solution but that explanation would do. It’s not like I was in love, but I did care about her to an extent I guess. And I would never let her be in danger. Ever. I helped because I wanted her safe and because deep down I was a good person. But it has nothing to do with love.
I wrap my arms around the girl next to me, pulling her face into the crook of my neck, her leg swinging over my waist and nuzzling into me. I gently run my hand up and down her back until I feel her go limp in my arms and just for a second I let myself inhale the scent of her, my nose buried into her hair. Maybe, just maybe, if I wasn’t Paige Bueckers, if I wasn’t me, this might have had something to do with love.
-
As the morning sun shines in through the window I feel myself stir awake, immediately met with a pounding in my head as my eyes flutter open. I feel a tight grip around my waist, holding me tight. For a moment I get the uneasy feeling that it’s Jay, but then I hear the light snore of Paige in my ear. Warmth spreads all over my body when I feel her pull me closer in her sleep, her nose pressed against the back of my neck.
A soft smile spreads on my face as I remember last night, Paige picking me up, driving me back, taking care of me, letting me stay over. My stomach fills with butterflies knowing this isn’t what Paige did for any girl. The only thing that mattered to her was ball and that’s it. Girls were just a distraction, something fun to do. But she didn’t care, right? Then why did it feel like she did, when she took care of me last night?
An incredible thirst from my hungover takes over, and I carefully peel Paige’s hand from my waist. Thinking I was sneaky enough to make my escape, I start to climb out of the bed when the strong arm quickly pulls me back down, pressing my back into her front once more.
“Where you going?” Paige’s voice is deep and hoarse from sleep, words muffled against my neck as she holds me down, nuzzling her face into my skin.
“Need some water,” I murmur trying to flatten my hair and push the hand away but Paige doesn’t fold. All she does is shake her head. 
“No,” she murmurs and holds me even tighter. It’s almost overwhelming, the way I was getting affection from her. For a moment I try and figure out why she would act like this, but then she kisses my shoulder through the navy shirt and I forget all about it.
“Paigeee,” I giggle but she only keeps shaking her head, her hands tightening around me.
“A lil longer,” she hums, her voice tickling against my ear.
“But I’m thirsty.”
“Fine.”
With a groan, Paige gives my cheek a kiss and climbs out of bed, putting on her basketball shorts and going out to fetch the water. I scooch up on the bed, quickly fixing my hair and trying to make myself look presentable when Paige walks in, carrying two bottles.
“There you go princess,” she grins. Her hair is matted and blue eyes tired as she gets back into bed next to me but I’m quite sure she’s never looked better. However, a sliver of fear in the back of my mind is nibbling away at me. I didn’t understand why she was acting this way, usually Paige’s motives were clear to me. Not this time.
Before I can spiral Paige leans towards me and presses a gentle kiss on my lips, her hand holding my cheek as she does. I kiss her back softly, my stomach twisting. Could she really be this good to me?
Paige pulls back and smiles. “Good morning Val,” she hums with another peck to my lips. I let myself smile back, deciding to worry about this later.
“Morning P,” I whisper and pull back to sip on my water, it soothing the pounding in my head. 
“Hungover?” the blonde chuckles but I shake my head, though maybe I did feel the shakes a little bit. 
Paige bites her lower lip not believing a word I said with a knowing smirk. She grabs her glasses, putting them on herself to see me better in the morning light. I can’t lie, she looks fucking amazing in her glasses and it makes it hard to ignore the ache between my legs when she looks like that - silver chain with a cross on her neck, sports bra, shorts and those fucking glasses.
I snuggle back underneath the blanket, pulling it all the way over my head, like that could somehow hide my filthy thoughts.
“Yo, where you going,” Paige laughs hoarsely, pulling the blanket away. I quickly bury my face in the pillow to hide.
“I don’t look good in the mornings,” I murmur, a blush rising to my cheeks from the way she was staring, let alone the dirty thoughts in my head.
Paige snorts and brushes my hair away from my face. “Oh so you care that much what I think huh?” her voice is smug and it makes me slap her arm, making her hiss.
She slides underneath the blanket too, her head resting next to my pillow. I can feel her watchful eyes roaming my face.
“Get outta here with that shit Val, you know you’re fucking gorgeous,” she murmurs, her words lighthearted but to me they mean more. My stomach filling with butterflies, I finally turn to face her, eyes meeting hers.
“You really think so?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. I was a confident woman, someone who took care of herself, didn’t need anyone’s approval. But with Paige I found myself craving it. I hated it
With a roll of her eyes, Paige smirks and pulls me on top of her. “C’mere ma,” she murmurs and her hand drags me down for a kiss by the back of my head. I sigh into her lips, my body against hers and legs straddling her as Paige’s big hands explored my body, slipping underneath the t-shirt and brushing against my side. All the need accumulated since last night, no, since that night in the bathroom finally tips over.
I break the kiss to sit back up and pull off the t-shirt, Paige’s mouth agape as she looks up at me, wetting her lips as her eyes wander around my body, letting out a heavy breath as her gaze lands onto my breasts.
“Perfect girl,” she coos, bringing her hand to cup my breast. Goosebumps cover my skin as I lower myself back to kiss her jaw. I had completely forgotten about Jay at this point, all I saw was Paige.
My hands are quick to find her shorts, pulling them down with urgency while my lips suck on her neck. Usually she reminded me not to leave marks but this time all I hear from her is heavy breathing and quiet groans, bucking her hips up at me. I grin against her neck, testing the waters and sucking a little, enough to leave a little mark. Paige only hums and helps me by throwing her shorts onto the floor.
My fingertips sneak underneath her sports bra, my other hand pushing Paige’s rising hips down, seeking to find contact somewhere. 
“Take it off,” I whimper and watch her lust filled gaze never break eye contact as she pulls the bra off, leaving her only in the black boxers. I found my mouth salivating for her, wanting to bury myself between her legs. But I must take my time, I needed to. I needed to drag it out as long as I could.
I watch her hiss and throw her head back as my tongue swirls around her nipple, feeling it turn hard underneath my tongue. Biting on it gently, I grind my clothed core down on her thigh, my wetness growing unbearable. 
“Val, you’re killing me,” Paige nearly whines and I giggle, leaving red marks on her breasts, my hands gripping her thighs tight.
“Good,” is all I say as I continue my descent, placing sloppy kisses all over her abs, my mind wandering to the dirty thoughts of what they’d feel like flexing under my pussy, grinding my clit against them. I needed to keep that in mind for the future. But not now, I needed to taste her.
Paige groans frustratedly, and I feel her hands coming to my head to push me down. I slap her hands away, pinning them by her side, lifting my head to look at her. She could easily push my grip away and take me, but Paige was letting me have my fun, my fingers digging into her wrists.
“Baby, c’mon,” she whines, looking down at me with her teeth biting down on her lip, brows furrowed and hips bucking. 
“Keep those hands to yourself Bueckers,” I murmur, my lips kissing along the band of her boxers. I hear her groan, arching to my touch. I lift my gaze to her, my eyes wide. “Oh, you want these off?” I ask, acting dumb, slowly beginning to pull down the boxers.
“You’re such a bitch,” Paige says, trying to sound serious but a small whine comes through in her voice, making me grin. 
“I think you like it,” I tease, finally pulling the boxers off her. “I think it makes you wet,” I grin seeing the way she’s glistening for me as I spread her legs apart, making room for myself.
“Fuck it does ma,” Paige moans, watching me descend inbetween her legs, her hand finding my brown hair and pulling it off my face. I maintain eye contact, my own core leaking through my panties at this point as I kiss her inner thighs, feeling the way they tremble underneath my lips.
“That’s fucked up, you should go to therapy,” I grin, my mouth slowly inching closer to where she needed me most. “That’s gotta be some kinda- mmph,” suddenly Paige’s hands both pull me to her core, my mouth buried in her cunt as she lets out a guttural moan.
“Ohhhh shit Val that’s it,” she groans as I take the hint, my tongue swirling all around her folds, softly lapping against her clit just the way she likes. Her taste on my tongue feels like heaven and I feel my own eyes roll back from how good it felt to have her like this. My arms wrap around her thighs, pulling her impossibly closer as my lips suck on her clit, earning desperate whines from her.
“Mmmh, that’s it, just like that ma,” she moans and I hear her hiss as my tongue slips inside her, nose rubbing against her clit. Paige is making a mess of my face, and the sheets but neither of us bother to care at this point. She leans up against her elbows to see my ass in the mirrored closet opposite to her bed, letting out a groan as she sees the reflection of me bent over, eating her, a wet spot visible on my panties.
She leans over and I feel a loud smack on my ass as I continue to make a mess of her with my tongue, alternating between sucking her clit and licking sloppily. “Mmph,” I moan against her, it sending vibrations all over her body. That was enough for me to feel the muscles on her thighs start to tighten.
“Taste so good baby, fuck,” I whimper on her pussy, making Paige let out a guttural groan, her grip in my hair tightening further, guiding my mouth just right.
“Such a fucking good girl,” she hisses, watching me in the mirror, her eyes heavy as she found herself getting closer just from the way my tongue is lapping her up. “So fucking- ahh shit, sexy,” 
“Yeah you think I’m sexy?” I whimper against her dripping cunt, shaking my head with my tongue buried in her folds. Paige’s eyes flutter shut and she nods, jaw going slack.
“Perfect, so good for me,” she mumbles, barely able to hold herself together. “Gonna make me– shit, gonna make me cum.”
I keep lapping her, listening for her reactions and holding her still as her body started to squirm underneath me, building to her orgasm. “Baby I need you to cum,” I murmur, my jaw hurting but the sounds coming out of Paige’s mouth making it all worth it.
“Please, Paige,” I whine and that does it. I feel her gasp, her hand gripping my hair and burying my face into her. I could barely breathe but I don’t mind as my mouth works tirelessly to get her over the edge.
“Valerie, oh fuck,” she groans, her head tilting back and back arching as she reaches her orgasm, grinding herself against my face. It’s so hot I nearly come too. I guide her through it, licking her until her moans turn high pitched and her hands in my hair ease up.
Panting, she brushes her hair off her face as I wipe my face onto her thigh, watching her from between her legs.
“Goddamn baby,” she says hoarsely, trying to catch her breath. Giggling, I climb back up on top of her, Paige’s hand slapping my ass hard enough to make me let out a squeal. 
“Stop, you’ll leave a bruise,” I complain, but Paige grins arrogantly, pulling me into a sloppy kiss. I moan hard, feeling the dampness in my panties growing unbearable.
“That’s the point ma,” she chuckles against my lips, suddenly flipping me over and spreading my legs wide as she sits between them, biting her lips and gazing down at me. “Fuck,” she groans looking from my damp panties to my dark eyes. For a moment she looks almost a little flustered, trying to find the words.
“I uh, I got something new,” she says, her cheeks turning even redder. Curious, I lean up against the pillows behind me. “For us, I mean.” 
Wait, she knew I was seeing someone, and she was seeing someone too, but she got something just for us two? What game was she trying to play? It felt impossible to figure her out.
Before my mind begins to race further, Paige has dug out a blue vibrator wand and is kissing me more tenderly than before. She pulls away a little, clearly hesitating for a moment.
“I don’t want you using the same toy on me and your other bitches,” I tell her a little offended but Paige quickly shakes her head.
“No no no, Valerie ‘s not like that,” she urgently stops me, kissing me softly. “It’s just for us, for you. No one else.”
Her words sound soft, almost tender against my lips which only makes me grow wetter between my legs. I didn’t know what parts were an act and what were genuine. All I knew is I needed her badly.
The moment I nod, Paige’s hands slide underneath the band of my panties, sliding them down to my ankles tenderly, her kisses soft and sloppy against my lips, moving to my neck. The breathy whimper I let out makes Paige let out a heavy breath as her hands spread my legs wide apart, wetness dripping out of me already.
“So pretty,” she murmurs hoarsely, licking her lips as she grabs the vibrator, the quiet, steady buzzing signalling it was turned on. I watch her wide eyes as she brings it to my thighs.
“Paige please,” I whine out squirming as she kneels between my legs and places her knees on my thighs to hold them wide open and steady. She watches me writhe underneath her, nearly gasping for air from how bad she loves seeing me like this.
“Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head, the vibrator ghosting my cunt to find my opposite thigh, vibrating against it. “You know what to call me.”
Fuck. She had gotten like this once before, made me call her something that drove both her and me wild. She knew I would remember what it was.
“Fuck. Daddy, please,”
With that Paige presses the toy against my swollen, sensitive clit, immediately forcing wetness to drip out of me as I gasp and grab onto the sheets around us. She gasps with me, like she’s feeling it too as my legs immediately start to shake, wanting to close around the toy, but Paige’s legs are pinning me down. It was way too much, overstimulating in every sense.
“Too much P,” I cry out but Paige shakes her head, shushing me as she towers over me. 
“Just a lil more ma, you can take it,” she coos, leaning down to press kisses on my open mouth, turning the vibrator on a higher setting. “‘S gonna feel so good I promise.”
I feel my eyes grow teary as the toy vibrates against my soaking cunt ruthlessly, when suddenly all of the overstimulation turns into nothing but pleasure. My eyes roll back and I let out a loud moan.
“Daddy, shit,” I whine, my back arching and my nails digging into Paige’s back as she holds the toy steady on me, slowly starting to circle my clit with it making a quick mess of me.
“You’re so wet baby,” Paige gasps shocked as she glances down at the way her hand and the sheets were glistening. But I barely notice, already feeling that coil in my abdomen start to tighten. I’m gasping desperately now, hands grabbing anything they could, moaning loudly as Paige kissed my jaw and neck groaning against my skin.
“Daddy I’m gonna come-” I cry out, tears spilling from my eyes, Paige moving the vibrator against me sloppily, driving me to the edge.
“Fuck, already?” Paige asks, surprised but impressed, her nose pressing against mine. My legs tremble desperately as her free hand slides up to hold my jaw.
I nod, my eyes squeezing shut as I’m just about to roll over the edge. Suddenly Paige pulls the toy away from me, making my eyes snap open and leaving my core throbbing, no, aching for relief.
“What the fuck?” I ask but Paige just grins down at me. 
“You didn’t say please,” she smirks, making me roll my eyes.
“I don’t have to say please,”
“Yes the fuck you do.”
“No I don’t,”
“Fine if you don’t wanna come ma.” 
Frustrated, I groan. I simultaneously hated and loved when Paige made me beg for it. I hated giving her the satisfaction. But lying underneath her with my cunt throbbing and tears rolling down my cheeks I would’ve done anything to come for her.
“Please,” I say, my cheeks blushing as I look up into her blue eyes. She was enjoying this a little too much.
“Please what?” Paige teases, pushing the vibrator against my inner thigh again. It makes me moan softly, wanting to buck my hips closer, but it was useless.
“Please daddy,” I finally whine, earning a smile from Paige.
“Good girl.”
The vibrator is pushed against my clit again, now turned up all the way, forcing a moan to spill from my lips as I feel my orgasm quickly start to build once more.
“Open your mouth,” Paige commands and I don’t even think about it when I push my tongue out and feel her spit into my mouth before kissing my lips fiercely, moving the toy in a circular motion against my swollen clit.
“Daddy, fuck, please, please, please,” I plead, not even completely sure what for as my mind turns hazy and my body trembles uncontrollably.
“Such a good girl for daddy,” she praises with a hoarse voice, nose pressed tight against mine as she kisses my open mouth, bringing me to the edge.
“C’mon pretty girl come for me.”
I feel my body ride over the edge, all the muscles in my body tightening, back arching and a high pitched moan leaving my lips as the pleasure finally releases, waves of ecstasy rushing over me.
“Aww shit, look at that ma,” Paige mumbles, looking between our bodies watching the way my cunt was squirting all over her arm, legs and bed. My mind turns completely blank, eyes shut tight as my nails nearly draw blood from her back, the pleasure overwhelming me. 
I swear I black out for a moment, only returning to consciousness from how suddenly overstimulating and almost painful the toy felt against my clit.
“Stopp, stop stop stop,” I whine pushing Paige’s hand away as she chuckles but obliges. The quiet buzzing of the toy ends as it’s thrown onto the mattress and the blonde crashes on top of me, nuzzling her nose into my neck.
I take a moment to try and catch my breath before I realise what just happened, and what a mess I had made. Looking down at us and the wet spot we were lying in I sigh, feeling a little embarrassed.
“Fuck I’m sorry P,” I murmur but she pulls away, looking at me shocked.
“For?”
“For, well…” I mumble and point to the mess but she only smugly smiles and shakes her head.
“You’re kidding, ma that’s so sexy,” she arrogantly says.
My eyes widen in surprise. “Really?”
Paige licks her lips and nods. “Ye, really. Never made you squirt before.”
I blush a little as Paige presses a soft, tender kiss on my lips - almost loving.
“C’mon let’s go shower,” she murmurs.
I giggle a little, shaking my head. “I cannot stand yet.”
“Oh,” Paige laughs and looks down at my legs that are visibly still trembling.
“I’ll carry you then,” she says and easily scoops me up, walking us both towards the shower. 
I rest my head on her shoulder, watching the way her nose turns up at the end, the way her lower lip pouts and how her jawline sharpens as she tilts her head. Something about her had changed. Lately she had been more caring, kind, tender. I didn’t understand it. All I knew is the way my heart fluttered and my mind eased up around her, I was in big trouble with Paige Bueckers.
-
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chaussurre · 1 day ago
Text
One of the miracles of being diagnosed is that it gave me the confidence to learn to let go.
Fine. I am time wasting. I'm gonna play a game or rest. I can't change some things. That's why it's an handicap.
It taught me to monitor the moments where I can do things, not the moments I can't.
And for the love of everything good please just allow yourself to ask helps no matter how stupid it is. People are kind.
adhd paralysis sucks bcuz im just sitting there and my brain is like
YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME YOU ARE WASTING TIME
no work done no rest gained. literally no point of this at all
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moonstruckme · 2 days ago
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And since you're such an angel, I would love some:
snow angels with doctor!remus
Thank you and please hydrate 💧
Awee you're too sweet to me, thanks for requesting lovely <3
cw: blood (not a lot? if that helps), dizziness/lightheadedness
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 686 words
Remus cups your face in his hand, brows woven together in concern. “Did you eat lunch?” he asks you. 
“Yeah.” 
“What’d you have?” He swipes his thumb gently over your cheek before leaving you, going into the nearby bathroom. 
“A sandwich.” You sound a bit defensive, which isn’t strictly fair. You know you gave Remus a bit of a fright when he came home to find you lying on the rug between the living room and the kitchen, too scared to get up. It was perhaps a tad dramatic—you could’ve walked over to the couch if you’d really wanted to, you’re sure—but you didn’t see any point in pushing yourself when you felt so dizzy and shaky on your feet. Remus has taken it as more cause for alarm than you have. 
He comes back with a blood pressure monitor and a couple of other things, setting them on the kitchen table in front of you. “That sounds fine,” he murmurs, taking your arm to slide the cuff up it. You have the sensation of swaying in your seat, but you’re not sure if it’s really happening or only in your head. “And it’s been going on for how long?” 
“Since maybe two.” You lean sideways so your head rests on his chest. Remus’ free hand comes up to hold it there gently, pinkie stroking the baby hairs by your temple as the cuff inflates around your arm. 
“You should have called me, sweetheart.” 
“I was okay,” you tell him. “I didn’t really think I was gonna pass out or anything, I just thought it’d be safer to sit down.” 
Remus’ hum conveys some disapproval, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s worthwhile to continue arguing with you. The blood pressure monitor beeps, and he leans forward to read it. 
“Hm, that’s normal.” He takes the cuff off you with a satisfying ripping sound. You curl and flex your fingers against the odd feeling. 
Remus holds your head to his chest with his free hand while he leans forward, grabbing something else off the counter. He takes your hand, but you pull it from his grasp when you see what he’s holding, sitting up. 
“Remus,” you whine. 
He chuckles at your tone. “Dove, it’ll be quick.” 
You let him take your hand again, but don’t allow him to pull it near that clicker thing. “Is it going to hurt?” you worry. 
“No.” 
You make a low, petulant sound in the back of your throat. Ordinarily you might be embarrassed for it, but you’re feeling rather self-pitying right now and entitled to some sulking. “Really?” 
“Yes, love. Relax.” 
Still feeling mistrustful, you allow him to pull your hand closer. He pricks the pad of your finger. 
“Ow—Rem!” 
“It’s okay,” Remus shushes you. “All done.” 
“That hurt,” you complain, vindicated, as he collects the bead of blood on a reader. 
“I know,” he admits. “It does, a little. But only for a second, yeah?” 
You make your displeasure known through your silence. 
“Look.” Remus takes your finger, kissing the back. “It’s better now, see?” He brings your head to his chest again, and it’s difficult to keep from softening when he kisses that, too. “Sorry, dovey.” 
“It’s okay,” you say, begrudging, only because he really does seem to feel a bit bad. 
“Mm.” He reads your blood sugar. “You’re at ninety two.” 
“Is that good?” 
“It’s normal.” Remus holds your cheek again, looking down at you and stroking pensively with his thumb. You’re not sure if he’s feeling for something or just touching you; you’re happy either way. 
He hums softly. “Do you feel tired as well?” 
“A little, yeah.” 
“Headache?” 
You tilt your head back to see him. “What’s it mean?” 
“I’ll take that for a yes, then.” His lips curve softly. “I’m not completely sure what it means yet, but I’ve got a couple of theories.” 
“Can you fix it?” you ask, though really you have complete faith. Remus always fixes it. 
He kisses your head again like he knows what you’re thinking. His lips make a soft landing just short of your hairline. “We’ll see.” 
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barcaatthemoon · 3 days ago
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respect || alexia putellas x reader ||
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You go back to Alexia after taking some space with the hope to reconcile.
You were absolutely fuming. Alexia had a way of acting like a complete dumbass sometimes. What should have been a nice night out with the team turned into something much more complicated. You wanted to have a good time and enjoy yourself, but then Alexia got jealous. She had a bad habit of getting jealous, and you had finally reached your limit.
It had been over a week and a half since the incident, and you were still pissed. You had seen Alexia since then, but you were wildly good at ignoring her at practice. The two of you lived together, but you hadn't been home since that night. Alexia was hurting, and you were also struggling, but you needed to prove your point.
In the time that you'd been away, you had practically flocked to your older sister. Marta loved you, and she would always take care of you, even if it strained her own relationship a little. You and Caroline were pretty close friends, but it was a little overwhelming for her to live with two very outgoing Spanish women. You knew that you were getting close to the end of your stay, even if you weren't quite ready to face Alexia again.
"Nena, I think that it is time you go back home for a bit. Not a single thing you're wearing right now actually belongs to you." There was a teasing lilt to your sister's voice, but you knew that she was serious. Behind her, you could see Caro standing in the hallway. She seemed a bit more anxious than normal, the kind that came with a certain air of guilt. "I can take you back in a bit."
"It's fine, I'll call a cab," you told her. Marta frowned as she watched you pack up your things. She hadn't meant that you had to leave immediately, but you definitely seemed to take it that way. You weren't mad at her, not really, but Marta knew that it would be a good idea to steer clear of you for the rest of the week.
You had always been very passionate, and with that came a lot of different feelings. Marta knew how hard it could be for you to calm down. Something seemingly small would stay with you for so long, and despite all of the work you had done to stop that habit, you could never quite shake it.
Marta sighed as you seemed to be gone before she could really stop you. A part of her wondered if she had made the right decision sending you away so early. She knew that things with Alexia could potentially get much worse, especially if Alexia was mad at you for stepping away for so long. Marta hadn't ever seen the two of you fight, but she had been there to pick up some of the pieces in the aftermath. Things between you and Alexia were generally pretty good, even if both of you were beyond stubborn.
Alexia's car was gone when your ride dropped you off. Your car was in the garage, so Alexia always parked hers outside, despite it being the nicer vehicle. It was just one of the many things that Alexia did to take care of you. You could be a bit tempermental, but Alexia always tried her hardest to take care of you. It wasn't a good thought, but slowly, you began to wonder if you'd be able to find someone else who was willing to do that.
"Why are you sitting outside? You're getting burned," Alexia said as she ran over towards you. For a moment, you thought she was going to pull you out of the chair, but she skidded to a stop before she could touch you.
"I've been gone for a while, and I wasn't really sure whether you'd want me to come inside after everything," you told her. Alexia scoffed at that as she pulled you into a hug. "I'm sorry that I ran away, I just didn't want the fight to get worse. Please forgive me."
"You did the right thing. I was mad at first, but sometimes I forget how we go back and forth. You'd give me space if I wanted it, and sometimes, I need to remember to give it to you too. I was completely out of line for how I acted that night, and I am sorry, so please forgive me," Alexia pleaded with you. She held you in the hug to keep you from seeing her cry, but you could feel the tears begin to soak through the collar of the shirt you were wearing.
"Of course I forgive you, Ale," you told her. Alexia's body sagged down a bit as she relaxed in your arms. "Can we go inside now please?"
Alexia nodded as she wrapped her arm around your waist. You let her stay tucked against you as the two of you went inside. Alexia only let go of you once you were inside to go back out and grab your bag for you. You went straight into the bedroom to shower and change into clothes that were actually yours as Alexia started a load of laundry and called to order lunch for the two of you.
"I know that we kind of made up already, and I do not want to upset you, but I think we need to talk about what happened. Could we try to do that in a calm manner?" Alexia asked you. You nodded as you made room for her to sit with you on the bed. You knew that Alexia really didn't want to fight because she had brought the takeout to you instead of leaving it in the living room for later. "Will you please go first? I'd like to know what exactly happened that upset you so much."
"You embarrassed me in front of everybody. It's hard enough for the team to see me as my own person. I've been Marta's baby sister, then I was your girlfriend, and right when I started to feel like me, you showed everybody different," you told her. Alexia's face softened as she listened to you explain your feelings. She had never really thought about things like that before. You had always just been (Y/n) to her, but as she thought about it, the more she realized that she saw many people refer to you in regards to someone else.
"Yes, you're Marta's sister and my girlfriend, but that's not all you are. It isn't anybody else's fault that the world doesn't understand your value. I forget that not everybody knows you like I do, so I am sorry for stepping in the way I did. You know how I get, but if you're willing to be patient, I will work on being better," Alexia promised you. There was never going to be a world where you wouldn't give Alexia a second chance.
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crushpunky · 3 days ago
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drew and actress!reader play the vanity fair game show
masterlist | actress!reader masterlist
based off the OBX3 interview + suggested by this ask <3
“I am Madelyn Cline and we are here to test how well we know each other.” Madelyn said into the camera, sitting in the “hot seat”. The rest of her OBX costars sat opposite her in two rows, shoulder to shoulder and grinning ear to ear. Drew sat in the back, along with Rudy, JD, and Austin, where y/n sat in the front with Madison, Carlacia, and Chase. Drew wore a light purple blazer, a color the boys had made sure to tease him for all day, but he didn’t mind. Y/n liked the color on him, so of course he was going to wear it.
“... and we’re the cast of Outer Banks!” Madison and Carlacia said, the rest of the cast joining them and waving at the camera. Madison put her head down with a giggle before composing herself and straightening up once more. Y/n could feel Drew’s fingers combing lightly through her hair, playing with the ends as they waited for the game to begin. She looked back at him, grinning at his long, tousled hair. He smiled back, his fingers continuing to run through her hair as they focused back on the game.
“Ok, first question: which astrological sign do I like the most other than mine?” Madelyn said, the end of her marker resting on her lip as she thought. Quickly, the room burst into shouts and guesses, everyone clamoring to win the very first point of the game. Drew stood from his chair, craning his neck to see what Madelyn’s card read.
“Hey, no cheating!” Y/n pointed at him, a mischievous smirk spreading across his face before he sat back down.
“I’m gonna say Gemini.” Drew said, raising his eyebrows as he glanced into the camera.
“Gemini women. Yes.” Madelyn replied, giving Drew the first point. The rest of the cast booed playfully, Drew patting himself on the back as Madelyn’s turn continued. Once she asked her last question, it was Drew’s turn in the hot seat.
“Y/n has to wait to answer.” JD said, the cast turning to y/n, her mouth falling open.
“That is definitely not in the rules!” Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes.
“Now they are.” Rudy said with a shrug.
“Ok, what is my secret talent? Bonus, where did I learn my talent?” Drew read, looking over the question card at his co-stars until his eyes met y/n’s. She narrowed her eyes, trying to read into what Drew was going to write on the card, after all, he was a man of many talents.
“Sleeping.” Carlacia said.
“You play piano?” Austin guessed.
“See what’s happening is you're just giving me a lot of ideas.” Drew said, taking the cap off of his marker as he prepared to finalize his answer.
“Oh, write it down, I know it.” Y/n said waving her hand for him to write faster. Once he finished, Drew looked at her to answer.
“Juggling.” She answered, Drew flipping the card around to reveal his answer: juggling/insomnia.
“Question two: what’s my favorite food?” Drew grinned, writing his answer down quickly.
“Mama Jodi’s casserole!” The cast said in unison, Drew nodding as he flipped the card around.
“Almost burned down the apartment complex cooking that one time.” Chase pointed out, causing Drew to gasp.
“That was actually y/n’s fault.” Drew said, pointing a finger at y/n who scoffed.
“You were the one that was distracting me!” Y/n shot back, raising her hands in surrender as she thought of the memory. It had been Drew’s birthday and y/n had decided to surprise him with his favorite casserole. However, the two of them had gotten so entranced in an intense game of Mario Kart that she completely forgot about the food in the oven… until the smoke alarm went off.
“Fine, I will take some blame… only a little bit.” Drew cracked a smile as he shuffled onto the next card.
“Last question: who is my celebrity crush?” Drew scowled, biting his lip as he thought.
“Y/n y/ln.” Rudy said quickly. A small smirk spread across Drew’s lips as he hurriedly wrote his answer down, the rest of the cast hooting and hollering as y/n covered her face with her hands and a flush spread to her cheeks.
“Yeah, that’s correct…” Drew said bashfully, scratching his jaw. “I don’t think she likes me though, if I’m being honest.”
“Definitely not.” Madelyn teased, nudging y/n’s arm playfully.
The game continued, each member of the cast having their turn into their hot seat until it was finally y/n’s turn.
“Drew has to wait to answer.” Y/n said, pointing at Drew. His mouth fell open, his competitive nature kicking in as he groaned.
“The rules, Starkey.” Austin said, shaking his shoulder lightly as y/n picked up her first card.
“What is my favorite movie?” Y/n asked, pausing to think of her answer before writing it down.
“La La Land? The Lego Movie? Moulin Rouge?” Chase guessed, attempting to rattle off as many guesses as possible.
“Pitch Perfect!” Madison said with a giggle, to which y/n nodded.
“Yes, very big Pitch Perfect fan.” Y/n responded. The cast had many memories of watching (and performing) the movie during quarantine when all of them were confined to their shared apartment complex.
“Next question: what is my go-to karaoke song?” Y/n raised her eyebrows as she wrote her answer down on the card.
“Something Taylor Swift, yeah?” Madelyn asked.
“Surprisingly, no.” Y/n laughed. Drew and y/n had hosted many karaoke nights in their shared apartment, the entire cast fitting onto their sofa to sing and dance the night away. The two of them had even gone as far as buying a karaoke machine, complete with mics and lights. It was quite a hit.
“Oh my god, I know it—” Rudy said, snapping his fingers as he searched for the right answer.
“Alanis Morisette...” Drew whispered, to which y/n scowled at him.
“You Oughta Know!” Madelyn cheered, stealing Rudy’s answer with a giggle.
“Yep, that’s right… thank you, Drew.” Y/n said, quirking an eyebrow at Drew who just smiled back. Y/n shuffled her cards for a moment, drawing out the final question.
“Oh boy, last one...” Y/n said dramatically, the cast letting out a string of “ooohs” as y/n cleared her throat.
“What’s my on set snack?” Y/n read, quickly scribbling down her answer as her co-stars looked between each other. Drew sat there, a smug grin on his face as he watched their castmates struggle to answer the very simple question.
“I literally had the same snack every single day.” Y/n said, hoping to direct her co-stars in the right direction.
“I never had the same break time as you two, that’s not fair!” Carlacia said, turning to face Drew who simply shrugged.
“The answer was pickles.” Y/n said, turning the card around to reveal her answer.
“What kind? We need specifics.” JD asked, quirking his brow.
“Dill. The ones in the bag.” Drew answered for y/n, who simply nodded.
“And with that, we are the cast of Outer Banks…” Y/n led, gesturing to her friends opposite her.
“Thanks for watching!” The cast said in unison, waving to the camera.
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dissapointu · 3 days ago
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Arcane characters spending Valentine’s Day with their s/o
Jinx
Valentine’s Day with Jinx was never going to be typical. She’d been planning for weeks, bouncing off walls with excitement. When you walked into the room, you were greeted with a chaotic mess of glitter, balloons, and something suspiciously resembling confetti.
“Surprise!” Jinx yelled, her grin wide as she threw a handful of glitter at you. “It’s your day, and I’m gonna make it the best one ever!”
You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing that even with the mess, Jinx was doing her best to make you happy. She pulled you into a hug and kissed you on the cheek, whispering, “Happy Valentine’s, you beautiful mess.”
Vi
Vi wasn’t the romantic type in the traditional sense, but Valentine’s Day with her was filled with meaningful little gestures. She took you out for a casual but perfect breakfast at a local café, laughing over pancakes and hot cocoa.
Afterward, she pulled you into a nearby park, her arm draped casually around your shoulders. You were in her world now—no one else mattered. When she caught your eye, her lips curled into a grin, and she kissed your forehead.
“I’m not good at this whole lovey-dovey thing, but I’ll always show you I care, even if I’m not great with words,” she said softly.
Sevika
Sevika didn’t understand the fuss over Valentine’s Day, but she’d been working on a small surprise for you. She led you into a quiet room after a long day, where there were candles lit and your favorite food was waiting on the table.
She was quieter than usual, but her eyes spoke volumes. As she sat beside you and served you a plate, she leaned in close and whispered, “I don’t do all that fancy stuff, but this? This is my way of saying… I care about you, more than you know.”
You smiled softly, taking her hand, and she didn’t need to say anything more. Her actions said it all.
Silco
Silco wasn’t one for big romantic gestures, but on Valentine’s Day, he did something different. He set up a private dinner for the two of you in a luxurious corner of the room, complete with fine wine and his usual sharp gaze softened by the warmth in his eyes.
“Tonight is about you,” he said, his voice hushed as he poured you another glass of wine. “You’ve proven time and time again how valuable you are to me. I wanted tonight to reflect that.”
You smiled, touched by his sincerity. “I’m grateful, Silco. This means more than you know.”
And as the evening passed, it felt like the world had slowed down, leaving only the two of you.
Vander
Vander’s Valentine’s Day gift to you was simple, but thoughtful. He took you to a quiet spot along the river, away from the usual hustle of the city, where you could enjoy each other’s company without interruption. The sun had just set, and the soft glow from the lanterns cast a warm light over everything.
“You make every day worth living,” he murmured, holding your hand tightly as you gazed at the water. “But tonight, I want to make sure you feel special.”
Vander didn’t need grand gestures to make you feel loved—his heart was more than enough. As he kissed your forehead, you knew you were his forever.
Ekko
Ekko always thought Valentine’s Day was overrated, but when it came to you, he made it something special. He’d spent hours tinkering in his workshop, only to reveal a custom watch he had made just for you—a blend of his tech expertise and affection.
“You’re the most important thing in my life,” he said as he carefully fastened the watch around your wrist. “And I want you to always have something that reminds you of me.”
You smiled softly, your heart swelling. “It’s perfect, Ekko. Thank you.”
The rest of the day was spent doing things you both enjoyed—movies, games, and quiet moments—reminding you that love didn’t need to be flashy to feel real.
Jayce
Jayce had gone all out for Valentine’s Day, turning the whole evening into a sophisticated experience. He’d arranged a private dinner in one of the most luxurious spots in Piltover, complete with a view of the city skyline. The table was decorated with candles, and soft music played in the background.
“I wanted tonight to be perfect for you,” he said with a tender smile as he poured you a glass of wine. “Because you are perfect to me.”
You could see the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke, and you felt warmth fill your chest. “This is more than perfect, Jayce. I’m so lucky.”
He kissed your hand gently. “The luck is mine.”
Victor
Victor wasn’t the type to do something extravagant, but his gesture on Valentine’s Day meant more than anything. He invited you to his workshop, where he had set up a simple, intimate dinner for two, surrounded by the quiet hum of his machines.
“I know I’m not great with these things,” he said, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “but I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.”
You smiled, touched by his honesty. “You don’t need to do anything big, Victor. Just being with you is enough.”
He gave you a small, shy smile before pulling you into a soft, lingering kiss.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn’s Valentine’s Day was all about making you feel cherished in the most personal way. She led you to a beautifully decorated spot in her home, where a small, intimate dinner awaited. The table was set with your favorite foods, and the room was filled with soft, romantic music.
“I don’t have grand ideas like some, but I wanted this day to be all about you,” Caitlyn said with a warm smile. “You make me feel loved every day, and today, I want to make sure you feel the same way.”
You smiled, touched by her simplicity. “You already make me feel special, Caitlyn. Thank you for everything.”
She kissed your hand gently, her love shining through every small gesture.
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darlingdaisyfarm · 3 days ago
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It’s a hot summer day and you’re not prepared for what you find when you step outside the Shack.
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suggestive, fem reader
The Mystery Shack feels like it’s punishing you for even existing today. . . every room drenched in a warmth so oppressive it makes your skin stick to itself. The fans are useless in this oven.
You’re irritable, sweaty, and worst of all, alone. The usual bickering, the faint sound of tools or Stan’s TV rambling on in the background, none of it’s here. The Shack feels wrong without them.  
“Stan? Ford?”
You’d checked everywhere, no Ford hunched over in his lab, no Stan napping on his recliner. You’re about to give up, maybe lay down and suffer quietly, when you catch that— clang, clang, the unmistakable sound of metal on metal, and muffled.
Curious, you step outside, and the second you do the sun hits like a slap. Bright, blinding, merciless. You shield your eyes with one hand, squinting through the glare, and. . . oh. Here they are.
Stan and Ford. Both of them. Shirtless. Bent over the Stanmobile. Sweaty, dirty, all covered in oil. 
Stan’s at the front, hunched over the engine, his belly jiggles slightly as he leans in, his broad shoulders gleaming in the sunlight, muscles shifting and flexing as he tightens something with a wrench. Sweat rolls down his hairy chest. 
Ford stands off to the side, frowning at a toolbox, his scarred six-fingered hands carefully sorting through its contents. His frame is a bit leaner, but just as distracting. Scars crisscross his torso, telling stories you’d kill to hear. There’s a smear of oil across his chest, and when he finally looks up, letting out a tired sigh from heat, the sweat trailing down his neck to his collarbone you forget how to fucking breathe.
And now you’re just standing there. Staring. No, ogling.
Stan’s the first to notice, of course. He’s always the first to notice.  
“Well, well, look who’s decided to grace us with their presence,” he calls as he straightens up, wiping his hands on a grease-stained rag. “ya just gonna stand there and watch, sweetheart? or ya wanna lend a hand?”
You choke, physically choke, because he’s grinning now and fuck, that look should be illegal.
Ford glances over, his brow furrowed in mild concern when he notices you. “Are you all right? You shouldn’t be standing out here in this heat, it’s dangerous without proper hydration.”
Stan rolls his eyes, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “Oh, give it a rest, Sixer. She’s fine. Though, if you are feelin’ faint, sweetheart, I’d be happy to catch ya. Or hold ya. Or. . . well, I can think of a few other ways to keep you steady.”
Your stomach flips, legs feel like jelly. Stan’s eyes are raking over you, not subtle in the slightest, and. . . Ford gaze lingers, too.
“Prolonged exposure to the sun can lead to heatstroke and—”
“Would you quit it with the lecture, genius?” 
You don’t answer. You can’t, you just let them both argue. It’s actually good they do, at least they won’t notice how pathetic you look right now as you drink them in, every bead of sweat, every flex and shift of muscle. All you can think about is what it’d feel like to touch them, to let your fingers trace the scars on Ford’s chest, to feel the heat radiating from Stan’s skin.
You imagine Stan leaning against the car, beckoning you closer with that cocky grin. “C’mere, sweetheart, why don’t you put those pretty little hands to good use?”  
Ford would step behind you, letting his hands slide over your shoulders, down your arms, breathing in your ear. “Relax, darling, we’ll just make you feel good.” as he plants tender kisses on your neck.
Stan’s fingers trailing down the curve of your waist as you lock your eyes with him, while Ford pays attention to your skin, kissing every inch of it. “you’re just dyin’ to feel us, huh? that pretty pussy of yours must be drippin.”
Then Ford’s hand on your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze, the silent act of possession, jealousy. “Look at me,” which would sound like a fucking command. “Don’t look away. I need you to see everything we're going to do to you.”  
Your thighs press together, but it’s no use. You’re fucked.
“Earth to dollface!” Stan’s voice pulls you back, and you realise he’s stepped closer, his grin widening as he catches the glazed look in your eyes. “what’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours, huh? thinkin’ ‘bout somethin’ naughty?”
“Stanley, enough.”
“Nah, you can’t tell me you don’t see it. She’s practically beggin’ us to bend her over right here.” 
Your mouth opens to protest, but nothing comes out because Stan is right, always fucking right, god, Ford, why cant you understand.
Ford finally steps in, landing his hand on Stan’s shoulder as he pulls him back slightly. “Stop that, it’s ignorant,” he says to his brother, but when he looks at you, his expression and tone changes into something warmer, caring. “You should sit down. Let us get you some water.”
“Oh, don’t act so high and mighty, poindexter, when yourself been starin’ at her like she’s dessert. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
You want to die. Or melt into the ground. Or god maybe let them both actually ruin you, because. . . the way they’re looking at you right now? 
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strangeaxel · 4 hours ago
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I hate BPD so much, i hate it so much, i just want it to stop being like this.
I'll just go to sleep maybe I'll dream something nice but my god i hate my brain so much I don't even know who i am or what i need, i just want to feel okay i feel like im never enough for anyone. Im just tired and scared,ni hate how life isn't like the movies, i want my life to be a big fiction where im the protagonist, i watch movies and series and i just feel so much jealousy.
I wonder where my friends are, i wonder where my parents are. I wonder where's that childhood I've always wanted. I know I only have one chance to be alive and this is what i get? Remembering my childhood with a 8 year old me begging my mom to kill me bc i didn't want to keep being alive, i just wanted life to end at the tender age of 8 years old and my mom only laughed at me. And my dad doesn't even love me, he never did, i hate him so much as much as he hates me or even more. Idk what to do.
I ain't no perfect human, I'll never be as im sick since i was born and everywhere ill go I'll disgust everyone. Idk what to do anymore. I just want this suffering to stop. Talking isn't useful either, i just want some lovely arms to rest on and feel like I'm in the home i never had.
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I hate to know how tough it is to have someone with mental illness as your friend or family, i hate to know im a burden and i hate to know that nobody will actually relate to any of my interests. The world should have stopped in 2015. i envy people that have friends and still do that bullshit of "no, im fine" and say internally "oh i love them, they're so lovely but I'll just keep quiet so i don't bother them" and their friends and family would die to know their state, selfish bullshit, i know you're sad and all but where tf did you get that idea??! I literally would die for your situation. My lord. I wish i could just have what you have. I wish i was skinny, i wish i was innocent, i wish i was a kid again and stop everything that's coming to me, i wish i had born somewhere else, i wish i wasn't me, i wish my brain wasn't like this, i wish nobody hated me, i wish i didn't hate everyone, i wish i could live, i wish my dad love me, i wish my family love me, i wish everyone love me, i wish i was a good person, i wish i was somewhere else.
I won't accept im 20 next year, I won't accept my life is ruined, I won't accept i am still alive.
I wanna be an idle teen. Something i couldn't even do. Im that autistic girl that died in her couch, that's me, it's just that nobody know it, nobody knows my parents don't care enough, nobody knows i drop off school bc of bullying and depression at 13 and that i rot in my bed.
The whole, "K*lling urself is a permanent solution to a temporary problem" bullshit is spouted by the ignorant lucky ones who have only had temporary problems. Some people's problems are permanent so maybe try offering actual help and support to them rather than regurgitating an overused phrase that means nothing to people with real struggles.
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lamiadrowned · 3 days ago
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Hellooo! those jinx dating headcanons were so cute, could you maybe expand on Silco meeting Jinx's partner? 🩷
*:・゚✧ silco meeting jinx’s partner
jinx x fem!reader | sfw
this made me so happy to write, the flashback we got of younger silco is heavy on my mind :,) missing him
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it would definitely be a lot less intimidating than you’d expect!
in the month or so that you’ve been with jinx, silco isn’t immediately distrusting of you since she talks often about how great you are. not only that, but he can see the difference you’ve made in her life and her mental state. how cheery she becomes when she talks about you. how big her smile gets when he asks about you.
however, it seems she’s a bit embarrassed at the idea of introducing him to you. so, being the protective father that he is, he takes the initiative.
one day, as you’re heading home from work, you quickly reach for the switchblade in your back pocket when you feel a hand on your shoulder behind you.
you turn around to see there’s a woman (who is considerably taller and buffer than you) standing there, clearly surprised to see a knife pointed at her. “my name is sevika, i’m here on behalf of silco. he wants to see you in his office before the day ends. is now a good time?”
thankfully, you recognize the name. jinx had talked about going on a few missions with her. you lower your knife and shrug. “uh… yeah. yeah, now’s fine. lead the way.”
she nods and proceeds to walk with you a few streets down to the building, offering some polite conversation and reassurance– this meeting is solely for the purpose of introducing himself to you, since his daughter won’t.
she takes you to the door of silco’s office, opening it for you and wishing you good luck.
you don’t immediately see silco, but you do hear his voice. “take a seat wherever you’d like.”
once sevika shuts the door behind you, you take a deep breath and follow his instructions; sitting down at his desk and watching his own chair spin around so that he can finally come face-to-face with you.
your anxiety is through the roof and your heart won’t slow down no matter how many deep breaths you take, but you’re able to muster a polite smile.
he sees right through it, though. of course. like father, like daughter. “you seem frightened. i apologize if sevika gave you a scare.“
“oh, no– she was really nice. it’s just… i wasn’t expecting a meeting with the kingpin of the underground today.” you joke.
he laughs, which makes you a bit more comfortable. “another apology is in order, then. i know this is sudden, but jinx… she gets so bashful at the idea of introducing us. i figured, why don’t i take the big leap?”
you nod. “yeah, of course. she talks very highly of you.”
“and you, as well. she talks my ear off, a million words a minute if she finds a way to bring you up.” silco shakes his head with a growing smile. “it’s impressive, how quickly she’s become smitten with you. i’d think you were a sorceress if i didn’t know any better.”
you’re flattered by his kind words, and a bit excited by the fact that she seemingly talks about you so much. you must be doing something right.
the two of you continue on as you answer all of the questions he asks about your upbringing and your current life, and you ask questions about his. it almost begins to feel like you’re talking to an old friend, not the most feared and influential man in the lanes.
however, at one point, he suddenly becomes very serious.
“now, i feel this is an appropriate time to tell you this. you seem to be a genuinely good person, which is all too rare these days.” silco sighs. then, he clasps his hands together and casually leans forward onto the desk, resting his chin on his fists. “with that being said, if i ever come to find out that you have made my daughter suffer in any way, and you will never know peace again. do i make myself clear?”
your eyes widen. you’re finally starting to see why the entire population of zaun is scared witless by him. “understood. it will never come to that, though. i can only hope you take my word for it.”
silco nods in approval of your answer. he’s very impressed by your ability to remain calm in the face of his intimidation. it only proves to him that you’re as good as you seem, and that your intentions are pure– you have nothing to hide.
after a brief silence, he opens his mouth to speak again, but he’s interrupted by the sound of his office door slamming open.
“she’s missing!”
you’re shocked to hear jinx. she sounds frantic, voice hoarse and pitchy, like she can’t contain her terror. “i checked everywhere, high and low! we need to send one of your goons to–”
she’s silenced when she sees you turn around in your chair and meet her glare. her look of horror turns into one of confusion. “what the hell is going on here? is this an intervention?”
you snort at her question, patting the chair next to you, inviting her to come sit down. her shoulders slump and she lets out a dramatic huff as she sulks over to sit beside you. her arms cross defensively. “i don’t know what you weirdos think i did, but those fireworks going off last night were not mine, and to be frank, it’s kind of offensive that you’d assume i–”
“jinx, if you don’t mind,” silco puts a hand up, imploring her to stop talking. “we’ll talk about those fireworks later.”
“what?! i just said they weren’t mine.” jinx scoffs.
“you ramble when you lie. don’t you think i’d know that by now?” silco sighs. “that’s beside the point. since you had no plans to introduce me to y/n, i decided to introduce myself.”
you hum in confirmation. “that’s all. no intervention.”
it takes jinx a long moment to process this information; it seems as if she forgot silco has eyes everywhere, and when he wants something done, it will be done.
you’re almost expecting her to be upset before a beaming smile replaces the scowl on her face. “un-fuckin’-believable! i’m searching all over zaun for you, while you’re here, kicking back with him?!” she points in his direction.
“precisely.” silco steps in for you, aware that this is one of those times where she is very happy, yet tries to pretend that she is very upset. “if it’s of any reassurance to you– to both of you– this relationship has my badge of approval.”
instantly, you feel a sense of pride in knowing that you’d made such a good impression on him. he’s a man that’s very hard to impress, as far as you’ve heard.
you reach for jinx’s hand and squeeze it. her smile is almost as big as yours now. “look at that. i aced the big interview, and i haven’t gone missing.“
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