#i want to sit down and have a conversation with you about this
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writeriguess · 2 days ago
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can i request a bakugou x reader. the reader is in a relationship with him for a few months now. they just never told anyone about it. their friends (bakusquad) are surprised when they suddenly cuddle up during movie night.
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Close Quarters and Closer Hearts
The living room hums with the comforting buzz of conversation and the scent of freshly popped popcorn. The Bakusquad lounges around, the flickering glow of the TV casting soft shadows over everyone’s faces. Kaminari’s sprawled out on the floor, a bowl of popcorn perched dangerously on his chest. Mina has claimed the comfiest corner of the couch, curled up with a blanket, while Sero and Kirishima share the remaining cushions, elbows already digging into ribs over the best seat.
You’re hovering awkwardly near the doorway, trying to decide the best place to sit. When your eyes meet Bakugou’s, he arches a brow, lips twitching in a smirk. He’s settled himself at the end of the couch, legs spread in that relaxed but commanding posture. He jerks his chin, wordlessly beckoning you over.
“Oi, finally done loitering?” he grumbles when you hesitate. “Get over here.”
The others are too caught up in a debate about which horror movie to watch—Mina votes for something gory, Kaminari wants comedy—to notice as you cross the room. Your heart races as you sink down beside him. You keep a polite distance at first, until his arm slides around your shoulders, tugging you against his side.
Your pulse jumps, but Bakugou just scoffs. “What, you scared or something?”
You give him a playful glare, cheeks warming. “No, just didn’t know you were so clingy.”
“Shut up.” He squeezes your shoulder and mutters, “You’re the clingy one.”
The couch creaks as the others pile on. Kaminari flops down on the floor at your feet, groaning dramatically. “If I die of boredom, it’s Mina’s fault. Just saying.”
She sticks her tongue out. “You have the attention span of a goldfish.”
“I do not—oh hey, snacks!” He reaches for the popcorn but gets smacked away by Mina’s foot.
The banter continues, but you can’t focus. Bakugou’s arm is still draped casually over your shoulders, his thumb tracing light patterns. It’s subtle, but it feels incredibly intimate. You’re hyper-aware of every breath he takes, the warmth radiating from his body.
It’s not until the movie starts—a classic slasher—that Mina glances over, her eyes narrowing. “Wait a second.”
You freeze, but Bakugou only sighs, muttering, “Great.”
Mina’s eyes bounce from you to him and back again. “Are you two... cuddling?”
The room falls silent. Kaminari’s head whips around so fast you’re surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. Kirishima’s brows shoot up. Sero’s eyes widen.
“No way,” Kaminari blurts out, gaping. “You’re dating Bakugou?”
Your cheeks flame, but Bakugou just clicks his tongue. “No shit, dunce face.”
Kirishima’s mouth drops open before he grins wide. “Bro, when did this happen?”
“A few months ago,” you admit, fidgeting under the sudden scrutiny.
“A few months?” Mina yelps. “And you didn’t tell us?!”
“Would you have believed me?” you counter.
Kaminari snorts. “Uh, no. You’d have to show me proof—like, make out or something.”
Bakugou’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Keep talking, and you’ll eat a fist.”
“Jeez, okay, chill!” Kaminari laughs, unfazed. “Just saying, I would’ve bet money you’d stay single forever.”
Bakugou smirks. “Guess you’d be broke, idiot.”
Mina’s outrage shifts into a smirk of her own. “Okay, but like... how did this even start?”
“We just clicked,” you say.
Bakugou scoffs. “Took you forever to admit you liked me.”
“Oh, please,” you shoot back. “You were the one dragging me out on ‘not-dates’ every week.”
Kirishima laughs. “Man, you really have a type. Explosive and stubborn.”
Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Whatever. You done interrogating us?”
“Never,” Mina singsongs, but she relents. The conversation shifts back to the movie, but the teasing glances continue.
Eventually, Bakugou pulls you closer, his hand warm on your shoulder. “Ignore ‘em,” he mutters. “You’re mine, not theirs.”
You smile, leaning into his touch. “Oh, possessive now?”
“Shut up,” he grumbles, lips twitching. But he doesn’t pull away, and neither do you.
The movie plays on, forgotten as the Bakusquad starts bickering about plot holes. You’re nestled against Bakugou’s side, his thumb brushing lazy circles against your arm. And despite the teasing and gawking, you can’t help but feel incredibly lucky.
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blueberrisdove-sideblog2 · 2 days ago
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You’ve always wanted to know if Mydei was telling the truth.
Every time a new wrinkle showed up—soft little lines blooming near your eyes, a tiny crease at the edge of your mouth—you’d find yourself looking in the mirror a little longer than usual. And then, almost on instinct, you’d turn to him, curling up in his lap or tugging gently at his sleeve like a child seeking reassurance.
“Mydei… do I still look beautiful? Even if I’m getting old?”
He’d always give the same response, said in that lazy, bratty voice of his like the question offended him. “Yes. Obviously.” Sometimes he’d add something dramatic like, ‘Don’t insult me by asking,’ or ‘If you weren’t beautiful, I wouldn’t even look at you, duh.’ And then he’d grab your face, kiss your nose, and go back to whatever nonsense he was doing, like that was the end of the conversation.
But it never really felt like enough. Maybe it was just you being silly. Maybe it was the creeping fear in your chest that time was something he’d never have to worry about—not really, not with his cursed markings glowing like ancient magic, not with that untouchable strength pulsing under his skin. He was timeless. You were… not.
So, you waited.
Waited until time had its way with you. Until your hair began to lose its color, softening to gray. Until the laugh lines deepened, and your joints started to ache just a little when it rained. You waited until one morning, you caught your reflection and barely recognized the version of yourself in the mirror. That’s when you decided. If there was ever a time to ask, it was now.
You walked over to him slowly, your steps deliberate, your heart racing. He was sitting in the garden, the sun painting warm gold onto his glowing red markings, his wild blond hair tousled by the wind. He looked like a storm dressed in sunlight.
“Mydei,” you said softly, kneeling beside him, “do I still look beautiful to you? Even now?”
He didn’t scoff this time. He didn’t roll his eyes. Instead, he looked at you—really looked at you.
And then he reached for you, big calloused hands cradling your face with a kind of gentleness that cracked something open inside you. His thumbs brushed the creases at the corners of your eyes like they were brushstrokes on a masterpiece.
“There you go again,” he murmured, voice low and tender, “asking dumb questions.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours, golden eyes burning with something far deeper than lust or admiration.
“You’ve always been beautiful. But now?” His voice was almost reverent. “Now you’re divine. Every line, every change… it’s proof I got to keep you all this time. Proof you lived. And I wouldn’t trade a single one.”
And just like that, you knew. He had always told the truth. You just needed time to believe it.
You blinked, his words sinking into you like a stone sinking into still water. The tenderness in his voice was enough to make your heart skip, but it didn’t erase the nagging doubt that lingered.
“You really mean that?” you whispered, voice barely more than a breath.
Mydei’s eyes softened, a flicker of concern flashing through his golden gaze. He tilted his head, his hand still holding your face, his thumb tracing the lines of your skin as if trying to memorize them. But even with the warmth of his touch, the unease in your chest refused to settle.
“You know I do,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Why do you keep asking? Why do you doubt it?”
You pulled back slightly, feeling that familiar sting in your chest. “Because you don’t age like me, Mydei. You don’t get to feel the way time wears you down. You’ll always be this perfect… this… untouched by it. I’m just… I’m just afraid one day you’ll look at me and not see me anymore.”
The words came out in a rush, a flood of insecurities and fears you’d buried deep. You bit your lip, ashamed, but the vulnerability spilled out anyway, the weight of it threatening to suffocate you.
Mydei was silent for a long moment. His gaze seemed to drift, as if trying to understand what you were really saying. His jaw tightened, and for the first time, you saw something unfamiliar in his eyes—something raw, something a little broken.
“You think I’ll leave you?” he asked, his voice tight, like he was struggling to understand why you would even think such a thing. His hand dropped from your face, fingers curling into a fist at his side. “You think I’m gonna find someone else when you’re the one I chose? When you’re the one who means everything to me? This… this age, this time—it doesn’t matter to me. Do you understand that?”
The sudden intensity in his voice took you aback, and you felt a knot tighten in your throat. “But one day, you will get tired of me. I’m not—I’m not like you, Mydei. You won’t be able to keep loving someone like me forever.”
He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was something more fragile in his gaze than you’d ever seen before.
“I’m not afraid of time. I’m afraid of losing you,” he said, his voice strained with a kind of quiet anguish you hadn’t expected. “But I will never stop loving you, even when you’re old, and every wrinkle is a reminder of how long we’ve been together. I don’t care what happens to your body. I care about you. You’re the one I want. You’re the one who makes me… feel. Do you think I would throw that away just because time catches up to you?”
You swallowed hard, your heart aching at the rawness of his words. He was more than just the cursed warrior you saw—he was someone who feared losing you, just as much as you feared losing him.
“Mydei…” you whispered, the tears threatening to spill over. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. You didn’t want to appear weak, but the weight of his confession was more than you could bear.
He reached out, cupping your face again, his thumb brushing away a tear that had already fallen.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I didn’t realize how much this hurt you. I won’t let you go. Not now. Not ever. Even if it means I have to watch you age, watch you change. I’ll be here. With you. forever.”
His words wrapped around you like a comfort you hadn’t known you needed. But there was still that lingering fear in the back of your mind, that fear of losing him, of watching him slip away from you when you became too fragile for him to hold onto. You wanted to believe him, you did, but part of you still couldn’t shake the thought that one day, he might look at you and see only someone else.
“Promise me,” you whispered, your voice trembling, “promise me you’ll never leave me when I’m no longer the person I used to be.”
His golden eyes never wavered, even as his hand moved to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. “I promise you, honey. You’ll never lose me. I’m yours, always.”
But deep down, you both knew that promises, no matter how pure, couldn’t shield you from the inevitable. Time would take its toll, and one day, your fears might just come true. And yet, for now, you let yourself believe in his words—because the future could wait. For today, Mydei was yours. And that was enough.
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peachsayshi · 2 days ago
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✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ playboy geto x inexperienced female reader (final part) ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
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wc: 9,000+
·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰ previous parts: 1/2/3/4/5
minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.
notes: I can't believe it's been like two years since I started writing this? Here is the final part of the this little mini fic. I don't even want to tell you how long I have had this sitting in my drafts. I've been so back and forth, but finally I just gave in and decided to share what I was originally working on. I got the idea to have them be wedding guests from an anon message, who wanted to see Suguru look at reader in a fancy dress / gown of some sorts. I hope you guys enjoy this final part, and thank you so much for bringing life to this little one shot! xo
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: other jjk characters are mentioned, virgin reader; lovesick geto & reader; first time; smut; oral (f receiving); nipple play; overstimulation; penetration; lovemaking
 Flowers burst in bright pops of color around Suguru. He slips one hand in his suit pocket, the other reaching for the petal of one of the pink flowers on the bush. He caresses his thumb and index finger against the delicate skin, his mind far off to a different place and different point in time. He can hear the crowd chattering, pick up on the sporadic laughs echoing from the joyous conversations. The live band are playing music, but out here in this beautiful garden, the beats are muted and dulled. 
And the quiet is exactly what Suguru needs. 
A small bird chirps in one of the trees then flies off in surprise when the click of heels echo.
“There you are,” you call out. 
Suguru’s whole body relaxes at the sound of your voice. 
He lets go of the flower, and takes a single glance over his shoulder to find you walking towards him. 
A vision. 
His heart can’t stop stretching with every beat - he hasn’t been able to contain himself since he picked you up to take you to your friend’s wedding. Your gown is the perfect shade to compliment your skin, and the fabric bathes over your body like water. The material accentuates your figure in all the right places, making you look ethereal in the hour of twilight. 
Suguru meets you halfway. 
You are both tucked away in a secluded part of the garden, but can still see the wedding venue from where you are standing. “I didn’t want to interrupt you dancing with your friends,” he informs, extending both arms to hold your waist as he lures you into his frame. 
You are looking up at him with all the affection that the world can possibly hold. 
The shorter layers of his long hair is slicked back into a neat bun, and the rest falls down his back in a glorious waterfall of black. His three piece suit is snug on his broad frame, and the color brings out a purple hue in his eye. 
“It’s a bit chilly tonight,” you point out, shivering into his biceps as the breeze kisses the parts of your exposed skin. 
“It’s lovely. I like the venue…” he replies, “you want to take a walk with me?” 
You perch your chin on his chest and smile. “It would be my pleasure.” 
Suguru links his hand between your fingers, the bracelet on his wrist grazing over your skin. You love that he never takes it off, no matter what the occasion might be. 
The two of you follow the paved walkway, passing by a variety of trees and plants. There are small lamps lighting up the stoned path, guiding you both through as night settles in. “The wedding was beautiful,” you speak in a daze. “I’m so happy for them.” 
“Yeah,” Suguru answers with a sigh, “it was…nice…” 
Despite how calm he sounds, you instantly catch the hesitation in his reply. 
When you received the invite to this wedding, you were ecstatic. You were allowed to bring a date (and, of course, you asked Suguru). What you didn’t expect was for the invite to spark a long and drawn out conversation about marriage in general. In the thick of the discussion, your boyfriend revealed that he doesn’t understand the fuss behind a wedding celebration to begin with. 
“Marriage doesn’t equate to a commitment,” he blurted mindlessly with a hint of annoyance. “And weddings just seem like a waste of money to parade a relationship around for no good reason…” 
You aren’t sure what caused the outburst but you respected that Suguru had his opinions. 
Despite his indifference towards the night, he still attended for your sake. 
You couldn’t help but wonder if his commentary stemmed from a place of fear. 
Long term commitment is something new for him, and maybe the subject of marriage just spooks him a little. 
“Look, I know weddings aren’t ideal for you, but I do appreciate you coming…” you state with gratitude. “I’m really happy for them because they’ve been together for a long time. I guess it’s nice to see them have their moment…” you add on, hoping to unscramble the uneasiness in your lover’s mind. 
“So, you’ve said…” Suguru exhales, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm behind your waist. “Best thing to come out of tonight is the dress you’re wearing. Would you be sick of me if I repeat you how utterly gorgeous you look?” 
You smile, “Only if I get to tell you that you should wear suits more often…” 
“With the way you reacted earlier, I just might…” 
Your laughs filters between the trees and the leaves. The path leads you both to a small bridge. You step over the curved arch, and are suddenly surrounded by a pool of water. You can hear the gentle ripples sing from the pond underneath your feet. You release yourself from Suguru’s hold to stand on the edge, placing both hands on the rail to look own. “Look at the fish!” You squeak, noticing the bright orange and white koi swimming. Their scales shimmer under the warmth of the small bulbs lighting up the entire area. 
Suguru places both hands just outside of yours to cage you from behind, then drops his chin to meet your shoulder. The quiet settles in once again, the two of you posed like statues studying the sea creatures, and your breaths sync up. 
“When I was a kid, I was convinced that koi fish came from oranges because of the color of their skin. I had no idea who planted that idea in my head…but my mom caught me stealing oranges from our kitchen and putting them in a bathtub full of water. She scolded me because she couldn’t figure out who was taking them to begin with-” 
You laugh at the tidbit of information that he shares. “That is adorable…” 
Suguru smiles, his large hands finding your own as he clasps over them gently. 
He strokes his thumb over the back of your hands, his brows furrowing in contemplation. 
“My dad egged it on for a while,” he whispers quietly in your ear, “told me that if I keep trying, maybe one of the oranges will hatch…” 
Your body freezes that very second. 
Suguru never talks about his father. 
He mentioned him briefly in passing, like he was this presence that existed but had no real substance. All you know about his dad is that he left the family. Suguru’s mom was dependent on him for everything, and after he was gone, all the responsibility fell on Suguru’s shoulders. 
Your heart pounds. 
“One morning I went into the bathroom and found a koi fish in the tub. I was fucking ecstatic…” he huffs out a laugh. “Turns out, it was my dad who put the fish in the tub. He was trying to placate my mom about the oranges, but he also didn’t want to see me so disappointed that my theory wouldn’t work out. He figured if it worked, then I would stop my experimenting…” 
You press your back deeper into his chest, molding your spine close to his heart. 
“How old were you?” you ask softly. 
“Five or six…” Suguru answers, but there’s a tenderness in his voice that makes your heart ache. 
You flip your hands over and allow Suguru to trace his thumbs inside your palm. He follows each line that slopes up and down like it’s a drawing. His hands are one of your favorite features about him - his fingers long and slender. They looked even better with the silver accessories he had on.You trap his thumbs in your grasp, and mindlessly caress him with reassurance as you wait for him to continue. 
“My dad was charming. My mom says I get that from him. And he…loved my mom,” Suguru confesses. “At least, I thought he did. He used to carry their wedding photo in his wallet, and would show it to me sometimes…” 
You let go of his thumbs, and lace your fingers between his. You stare at the smooth surface of his silver ring, catching the small reflection of you both from the surface. 
“I…” he breathes, “We���didn’t see it coming. The night before he left, he kissed my mother while she was cleaning up dinner, and hugged Mimi and Nana. He ruffled my hair and told me to help my mom before I went to bed. He went upstairs and when I woke up the next day, he was gone.” 
A lump forms in your throat but you do your best to remain firm. You hold your strength because you recognize just how much it is taking for Suguru to be this vulnerable with you right now. But in the back of your head you see the face of a broken hearted teenage boy who knows that his world just fell apart. 
“A week later he calls my mom to tell her that he isn’t coming back. That this…that we, weren’t the life he saw for himself,” the words spill out of him with a true grit of anger, and in a sinister tone that makes goosebumps form across your back and arms. It’s a hatred so unfamiliar to you. A voice so dark it sounds like it doesn’t even belong to him. “It destroyed her. She wouldn’t get out of bed for months. I did everything I could to protect Mimi and Nana from it…” he sighs.
But who was protecting you? 
The thought rushed through your mind, but you bit back those words. 
You didn’t have to remind Suguru of something he already knew. 
“Suguru…” you breathe out, only then shifting so you can face him. Your hands find his jaw first, and you cradle him protectively wishing you could do everything in your power to take away the hurt. 
He circles his hands over your wrists and clears his throat. “I wasn’t telling you this to make you feel bad, but I’ve been acting like a dick about this wedding…” 
“You’re entitled to your opinion…” you answer back with a gentle grin, hoping to ease his grievance. 
“I just feel like I was sold this lie my whole life, you know? Once in a while, I find myself wondering what the hell he was doing, what the hell he was thinking…and after how I turned out? I didn’t want to be tied down to anything or anyone…” he huffs out a laugh, “I guess the apple doesn’t fall that far from the tree. Sometimes I just want to know what was convincing him to think otherwise…”  
You pull his face closer, and peck him softly against his lips. 
“I have a hard time trusting happily ever afters…” he continues with a sigh. He drops his hand back down to the rail, and pushes his chest against yours.
One of your hand falls to his shoulder, while the other moves to hold his cheek. “Do you remember how nervous I was on our first date?” 
Suguru’s attention flickers to your pretty irises, and he holds the stare as the memory resurfaces. 
He nods his head.
You nip at your bottom lip. “That night when we almost kissed, I didn’t realize how easily I had let my guard down around you. Even after Shoko warned me to be careful! When we went on our date, I was just waiting for you to prove everyone right. For you to pull a fast one on me, to catch me off guard again, to love bomb me or try to take advantage of my naivety… ” 
Those feelings seem so distant to you now - a blurry detail of an old photograph that you couldn’t quite place. “By the end of our first date, I got to see a side of you that I didn’t even expect,” you carry on with a smile and a tilt of your head, “You’re not the man people make you out to be. And I don’t think it’s fair that you let yourself believe how everyone else perceives you…”
Suguru lets you fiddle with his tie, but his chest tightens at your words. “You are the only one who ever says that to me…” 
“You’ve always been honest, Suguru. You don’t play with people’s hearts intentionally, you’re a lot more sincere than you think you are. You’ve never lied to me about where you stood regarding relationships, and you follow through with your actions. From what you’ve told me, you’ve never been dishonest with others either. You said it yourself, you never promised commitment to anyone but they would force it on you. And, I don’t think that’s fair to you either. I don’t think it’s fair for everyone to paint you as the villain. I’m not saying you’re perfect - but no one in this world is. But…you would never abandon the people you care for so recklessly…”
You both gaze longingly into each other’s eyes, and the stillness blankets over you both to guard the serene moment. 
Suguru finds your hips, and leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth, remaining careful not to smudge your lipstick. “Sometimes I feel like you’re the only person who really sees me…” he murmurs . 
His hands smoothly move back up to your waist, and Suguru brings his mouth to kiss your temple. Your arms stretch out to wrap around his, and he holds you in the sweet embrace. “I’m not really against marriage, just for your information…” he murmurs into your hairline, and you do your best to hide your amused reaction. 
Your hearts knock at one another, the muscles in your chests willing to rip skin just to get closer to the other’s soul. 
“Oh?” You ask, feigning innocence behind your reaction.  
“Look, I could truly go without. But I would be willing to give it a shot if…my partner wants that…” 
He doesn’t say it outright, but your stomach flips because you know he’s talking about you. 
Because you’re the only person he’s ever addressed with a title. 
Girlfriend, partner, significant other…  
It’s overwhelming knowing that he makes you the exception to all his rules, that he wants you to be a part of his forever. 
Time passed since your fight at Yuki’s home, but your relationship has flourished into something even better that it was before. There are no questions on where you both stand, no room for petty jealousy or hesitations. You are still learning from one another, but it only made your commitment stronger. Your mutual confession of being in love hung over your heads like a daunting shadow, but you both aren’t ready to acknowledge it again just yet. 
Love isn’t linear to either one of you, but you are okay not following a trajectory path that was supposed to make sense. 
Instead, you both relied on your intuition and desire to lead the way. 
But there is now a new hunger that stirred from within - a patience that’s wavering the longer time passes. 
The thread is so fine, it’s barely holding it together, but the will to rush that final snap was weak. When these moments bubble and boil over is when you and Suguru have found yourselves entangled in intimate scenarios for the sake of indulgence.  There was the steamy make out session which happened at a party which Satoru hosted. The place was packed with Satoru’s friends, and you both snuck away to lock yourselves in a bathroom, a little tipsy as your bodies pulsed with heat.  Suguru’s lips were sucking on your aching nipples, and you were grinding up against his thigh hoping to keep your desperate moans down. You were both cooped up in there for a while, and didn’t split apart until someone knocked on the door to interrupt. 
There was the night where you slept over at Suguru’s place. He was a bit on edge, and you offered to help him get some much needed release while you both snuggled under the sheets. his hot breath was on your neck while your hand was wrapped around his impressive length. 
There was the lazy afternoon where Suguru had you pinned to your couch. The two of you ditching your plans to stay in. Your cheeks were wet with tears from how long he chose to go down on you that day. He was drunk on desire, and you can still recollect image of staining the cushion with your arousal from how wet you were.  The noises you made were unnatural, but it was the most pleasure you’ve ever felt. 
There was the morning where he woke up to your lips wrapped around his manhood, his voice breaking when dawn cracked through the horizon as he released his passion for you on your tongue. You don’t even know what came over you, for you to wake up with this intense urge to have your lover on your mouth. And especially after Suguru gave you permission in passing, you really wanted to take him up on his offer. 
Every single time you both dipped your toes back into it, you could hear a tiny little snip of string. 
You’re not even sure what’s keeping it tethered, but it feels too big to ignore that all it will take is one more thing, before the bind will finally break. 
Footsteps approach in the distance as other guests start to meander out into the garden. 
They remind you both that you are not alone right now. 
But all you can think about is just how much you want to be. 
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Suguru is charming. 
That natural charisma is what you drew you to him in the first place, and you watch all the other guests flock towards it, witness how his seduction transcends every boundariy. But you’re no longer insecure by this anymore. You don’t look at his confidence and shrink with intimidation. Now you gaze upon him with admiration and pride because Suguru’s energy is alluring and enticing, and you get to bask it in to your heart’s content. 
The venue shrinks in size when you both stop for a few slow dances, the two of you hooked on one another like an unruly knot. 
“Where did you learn to dance?” You whisper with curiosity. 
“Mimi and Nana were obsessed with balls,” Suguru responds with a hint of embarrassment. “They needed someone to play lead for them…” 
The way he talks about those girls makes you light up. Suguru was so doting towards them in every way. Even now, you have proof of just how much they rely on him. Suguru has cut a couple of dates short to bail them out of their rebellious antics or lose himself to hours on a phone call just to listen in when they need advice about life and love. 
To those girls, he was there rock. 
While listening to the toasts from the wedding party, Suguru reaches under the table to hold your hand in his. At some point, he just glances in your direction to smile at you, and you feel the whole world move with him. 
You think about forever with him - picture a life where this would be an every day occurrence. While you ate dinner, you caught his eyes squinting adorably when he laughed at one of your jokes, and it reminded you of why this side of Suguru is your favorite. 
It’s the playful side of someone who isn’t taking himself too seriously or curating a fantasy. 
You can’t stop fixating on him; at the way the tip of his noise points a little upward, and how the tendons in his neck would flex with subtle gestures. You’re so lost in this man, that life around you starts to fade, and suddenly there is another pang in your chest. 
You really didn’t want to be here anymore. 
You really wanted to be alone with him. 
As the two guests sitting beside him politely excuse themselves, you feel Suguru pin his shoulder to yours. 
Your lips find his ear, “hey,” you murmur, “you want to head out?” 
“It’s a bit early to leave. Are you getting tired?” He wonders thoughtfully. 
“I have cinnamon rolls back at my place,” you answer, feeling selfish for even suggesting this. “I wouldn’t mind dessert…” 
“Not a fan of wedding cake?” 
You shake your head no. 
Suguru grins. “Alright, let’s go…” 
You say goodbye to the bride and groom and thank them for the invite. When you exit the premises you feel like you’re walking on clouds. Suguru takes off his jacket and places it over your shoulders before leading you to the car. Once inside, he strips off his vest and rolls up his sleeves. You can’t help but ogle him as he relaxes, and watch the way his expert fingers unfastens his tie. The veins on his forearms pulse, and your mouth goes dry at the sight. 
“You’re such a tease…” you scold playfully, “I wanted to do that…” 
He shifts his attention seductively in your direction, but his grin is as cheeky as ever. 
“I’ve still got clothes on that you can take off, sweetheart.” 
You pout in response. 
Suguru has one hand on the wheel, but the other slings around the back of your neck to pull you in. He doesn’t stop himself when he kisses you this time. Your lips part as his tongue slips into your mouth. There’s no reason for him to be considerate of you looking prim and proper now that you are both leaving for the evening. 
You moan into the kiss, and he hums in return. When he pulls away, your lipstick is stained all over his mouth, but you instantly catch his face. “Hold on, Sugu…” you giggle, grabbing him with one hand and reaching for the tissue in the glove compartment with the other. 
“What? The color doesn’t look good on me?” He teases. 
You shake your head as you wipe his mouth. “You’re shameless.” 
“Nothing about you gives me any reason to feel shame,” he answers matter of factly. 
Your whole body seizes, but you glance down to his mouth to avoid the intense way his eyes were piercing into yours. 
You’re still contemplating your relationship on the drive back home. There is music playing from the station, and Suguru is humming along to all his favorite tunes while keeping one of his hands nonchalantly on your thigh. It’s these moments that make your heart quiver - the quiet, mundane things that you get to share with the man of your dreams. 
And he really is the man of your dreams. 
Suguru always talks about how lucky he got with you, but you can’t help but feel the same way too.
“You know, I don’t need a wedding or marriage to prove I love someone,” you say mindlessly, “I wouldn’t force it on someone who doesn’t want it…”
Suguru squeezes your thigh, but keeps his eyes on the road. 
“Oh?” He says, his voice breaking at the abrupt statement. 
You trace your index finger over his knuckles, “I believe that love should make you feel safe. You don’t really need anything else if you have that…” 
Suguru Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows. He lets your words marinate over his soul before asking, “do you feel safe with me?” 
There’s a sense of uncertainty in his tone, like he’s expecting you to deny that fact even though it’s clearly not true. He walked into this relationship thinking he was a sinner and you were a saint. You half wonder if he thinks you’ll tell him that you’re still unsure, and that he will still have to keep working to earn your trust. You clasp your hand over the one that’s resting on your thigh, and turn to look up at him. 
He’s avoiding you this time by keeping his eyes on the road. 
This is…too much for you both. 
“The safest,” you answer softly. 
He breathes out his relief but there’s a small, prideful smile resting on his lips. 
“Good to know,” he acknowledges, his voice smoother than liquid gold. 
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Sugar and cinnamon permeate the corners of your apartment, and the aroma makes your stomach grumble. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, kicking your legs excitedly as Suguru pulls out the plate that was in the microwave. 
The roll is fat, fresh and fluffy - a perfect swirl steaming as the glaze melts between the layers. 
Suguru grabs two forks from the drawer and hands one to you. 
“Dig in, angel.” 
He lets you take the first bite, and you moan loudly as you close your eyes to savor the delicious, most perfect taste of spice and sweet. Suguru just chuckles at the response then takes a bite for himself. 
“It’s so good,” you sing. 
“It is,” he hums. 
You hook both your legs around his to tug him in, keeping as minimal space as possible. 
“So much better than cake,” you share in secret, and Suguru just gives you a knowing glance. 
“What?” You ask, gently poking the prongs of your fork on his shoulder. 
Suguru flickers his eyes down, right through the plate and straight to the space between your legs. The fan of his lashes open up beautifully, and he quirks his brow with mischievous intent. 
“I know something else that tastes even better, but I’m behaving myself…” 
Your cunt clenches with need, your body clawing at you with its reactions. It’s begging you to do something before it combusts. You ignore the demand, and dig into the cinnamon bun, only this time you bring it to his lips. “Simmer down, lover boy…” you coo. 
Suguru smiles, flashing you all his teeth before accepting the bite from your hand. “I can’t around you. That’s the problem…” he says in between chews. 
You both continue eating your treat until there is nothing left but the crumbs and drizzle. You swipe some left over frosting along with some powdery bits, and bring it up to Suguru’s mouth. He places the plate by your side, and sucks on your finger, licking it clean. You tap him playfully on the nose, and in turn he leans down to kiss you once more. 
The kiss is perfect and easy, and it makes you feel like you’re malleable in every way possible. He turns your world into pink stains and rosy pigments. Your body vibrates like it’s heeding an unspoken call, and you know for a fact that you’re not the only one feeling this right now.  
Suguru pulls away, but cups your jaw in his palms to cradle you like you’re a precious stone. He looks deeply into your eyes, a sense of uncertainty burning between that same strong gaze that was rendering you weak. 
“I never thought,” he begins to speak, but pauses for a second to collect his thoughts. You notice he does this whenever he has anything serious to say, like he is trying to make sure he’s considerate of his words. “I never thought I would have this…” 
His voice is low and hushed, and you bring two hands to wrap around his wrists. 
“Fuck, I didn’t even think I wanted this…” he adds on. 
You smirk, “I never thought I would have this too. I’ve been on my own for so long…”
“When you rejected my first kiss, ” he speaks, “I thought about backing off. I told myself not to fuck around with you. But…I couldn’t walk away.” 
“I almost thought you would,” you added on meekly “when we had that fight at Yuki’s…” 
“No matter how angry or upset I get, I’d just come crawling back to you. You have me on my knees without even knowing it…” he sighs, his thumb strokes your cheek but the way he was looking at you has you holding your breath. You can see the gears turning in his head. “I’m safe with you too,” he confirms. 
Your heart flutters, it nearly soars its way up your throat and out of your own mouth. Tears prick your eyes, but your try to ignore them. “I’m glad,” you say with a shaky breath, and attempt to clear your throat when it constricts. “I want you to be.” 
The muscles on his face pull into a sincere expression, one that’s pensive yet warm. Suguru breaths out your name, and the way it rolls off his tongue feels like a prayer. 
“I love you.” 
You were expecting it, but when those three words struck you still didn’t anticipate how deep it would puncture through your heart. You blink back the forming tears, a little sniffle leaving you as you maintain your smile. Suguru swallows the lump in his throat, his gaze softening as he arches forward to bring his mouth closer. 
You press your fingers against his lips to stop him, your dewy irises seeking out his own. 
“I love you too,” you whisper before he can carry on, and a single tear falls unexpectedly which Suguru quickly catches with his thumb. 
Your lover presses his mouth to yours with a kiss that fully unravels you. You move to grab onto his shirt, because it feels like you’re turning into dust. His mouth finds your cheek, the tip of your nose, and then moves back to your lips once again. His hand falls to your lap, his arms extending to wrap around you and engulf you in his frame. 
And you wanted to be consumed by every part of him. 
He picks up your legs and wraps them around his waist, keeps you secure against his chest before lifting you up from the kitchen counter. Your mouth leaves his and finds his neck, your lips licking over the spot that you know makes his cheeks turn a certain shade of red. 
He grunts out a curse, and hurries straight to the bedroom. 
He shoves his shoulder against the wooden frame, leading you both inside. He carefully perches you on the mattress, then kneels on the ground right in front of you. You wipe the mouth with the back of your hand, your body burning from the layer you still had on. You shrug off Suguru’s jacket, and watch as he carefully clasps your ankle. He places it on his thigh, and removes your pointed heel from one foot.
He arches forward to kiss your knee before switching to your other leg. 
One of your hands reaches for the shell of his ear, and you trace the curve all the way down to his piercing. 
“Sugu,” you call out to him, as he takes off the second shoe. He lifts his head to find your desperate eyes. “My dress…” 
He crawls up your body and hoists you back so you were standing upright on your bare feet. He spins you, so you are facing the bed, making your stomach flip as your eyes stare down at the pillows and slightly rumpled sheets. 
It feels different this time. 
Your stomach erupts with butterflies. 
His expert fingers find the zipper of your dress, and he tugs at the seam and draws it off. Your body exhales from the release, and Suguru kisses the curve of your shoulder as the material drops to your feet. 
You turn to face him, and rush to find the buttons of his shirt. 
Your hands are shaking. 
You unlatch the first button and the second, but by the time you get to the third you feel one of his hands grasp over yours which jitters. 
“Baby,” he speaks affectionately, “we don’t have to…” 
You shake your head, “no, I want to. I really, really want to. I’m just…a little nervous. We waited so long-” 
He loosens his grip when your voice breaks, making it hard for your to speak. His hand meets your naked waist and he interrupts you with another kiss. 
“I told you once that I would take such good care of you,” he states, “And I will…” 
Your fingers linger over the button of his shirt. 
“Don’t rush. We will take it nice and slow,” he ensures, “we’ve got all the time we need.” 
He lets you catch yourself; lets you find a minute to breathe from the whirlwind of emotions that  have compounded into you. You release a shaky exhale, and try to ignore the way your knees tremble and the back of your neck pricks with warmth. 
He taps you underneath your chin, “weren’t you the one giving me the hard time earlier about taking off my clothes?” 
The casualness of his delivery makes you puff out a laugh, but the comfort gives you the push you need to continue undressing him.  He slips off his shirt, and your hands touch at the surface of his hard torso. You’ve seen Suguru naked countless times now, but he still takes your breath away no matter what. Your hand grazes over the front of his pants, and his eyes flutter close as you touch his hard-on. You unfasten his belt, and unzip his trousers. The fabric falls to the floor, leaving Suguru in just his boxers. 
You both step out of the puddle of clothing, and stand half-naked in the middle of the room. 
Suguru reaches to hold your hands in his. “If anything, anything…” he speaks quietly, “makes you uncomfortable, just tell me. If you want to stop at any point, we will stop”
“You’ll tell me too?” You respond innocently, and Suguru almost chokes back his reply because no one has ever asked him that question before. 
Who knew that such a simple gesture would cause something to pricks his own eyes. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll tell you…” 
“I want to make sure…” you sigh, “that I do this right” 
He smiles against your lips. “Practice makes perfect, right?”, he says with a kiss. “But for tonight, I want this to be about you, okay?” 
“But…” you resist, and gaze up at him affectionately with an expression that forces himself to hold back from ruining you right then and there. “but it’s about us. I want you tell me what you like. I want to know what you enjoy. So, I will know for next time…”
“I’ve got you,” he breathes as he bites at your bottom lip with his teeth. “That’s all I need…” 
Your head feels so light, you think it’s made of air. “Why does this feel so different from everything we’ve done before?” You gasp, pushing away from his face as your noses bump. 
“Because it is different…” Suguru adds, his fingers tucking under your chin to stop you from hiding. “It is.” 
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
Tangled between another kiss and between more sweet caresses, you find yourself on the mattress once again. Suguru brings his mouth to your ear, his fingers hooking underneath your damp underwear. 
“I need you wet,” he informs under his breath, pressing the pads of his digits to your slick slit.  “Really, really wet…” 
All you can do is whimper at that. 
“You’ll be good for me, yeah, angel? Let me prep you just right?” 
Your thighs spread wider. “Yeah, I’ll be good for you…” 
Suguru snags your lobe with his teeth - the heat of his mouth travels down your neck. He licks his way down the slope, pausing to suck on the tender, sensitive areas he’s grown to love so much. He moves lower to the mounds of your breasts, and he peppers your chest with soft bites and kisses. 
“Unhook your bra for me, love…” he adds, his fingers working your pussy the whole time. 
He rubs you gently, and at such a languid pace it makes you want to relax. 
You arch your back up, and he separates himself just enough for you to remove your bra. 
Your breasts spill out on display for him, and you toss the lacy material over his shoulder which makes his eyes squint with amusement. When it catches on to a lamp and you almost jerk with worry thinking you knocked it over. 
“It’s fine,” Suguru soothes, and you cover your mouth to hide your own laugh. 
His heart sighs at the response, at the comfort you have with him by your side. 
He is the only man in the world who gets to see you like this. 
You truly belong to him in every way possible. 
Your laugh stutters into quiet pants, as his fingers spread your lips to gather your arousal. He moves up to find your clit, and rubs over the hard little nub carefully. 
You sigh into his touch, and only then does he lean to kiss your nipple. 
He drags his tongue across the pointed end, his lips circling around the tip to suck. Your arms drape over his shoulders, keeping him in place as your body trembles with desire. Suguru bites and tugs at your nipple, his hand spreading your lips to tease the entrance before returning back to your clit. 
Your nails drag down his back, and he groans at the touch. 
All you can hear is quiet squelches from between your legs and your pants echoing around you. 
Suguru slithers his body lower and lower, his tongue tasting the mid-line of your stomach until he makes his way to your pubis. He presses a kiss to the middle, the heat of his breath getting closer and closer to your clit. 
“When you masturbate, have you been doing what I showed you?” He asks. 
Your body ignites on fire, and you see his mouth hover of your clit as his fingers pause its movement. 
You swallow the thickness in your throat. 
Suguru taught you how to finger-fuck yourself. The same night you gave him a hand job, he returned the favor by perching your back against his chest and spreading your legs wide. He guided you and showed you how to carefully press your fingers inside you. 
He wanted you to get used to the sensation. 
“Yes,” you say with a nod. 
“Atta girl,” he answers with pride, then clasps his lips over your clit. 
A sound comes from the base of your throat, as your head falls back. 
His tongue flicks back and forth over the bud in measured movements, and his fingers spread the lips of your labia. He uses his middle finger to prod at your entrance, grazing over the hole teasingly for a second at first. As your body opens up for him, he pushes it in, and slowly pushes his digit in until it reaches his first knuckle. 
You quiver from the sensation - it’s so foreign having someone else penetrate you. You’ve grown use to your own touch, but Suguru’s hands were different than your own. 
He drags it back and forth, keeping his mouth over your clit. 
The second your breath evens out is when he picks up the pace and pushes his finger even further. Your hips buck gently as he pushes all the way down to the base, a cry leaving your throat as two hands move to grip the pillow behind you. 
You can hear him slurp, and lick, and suck. Hear the “schlick” sound that his finger is orchestrating. 
He pumps faster and faster, his other hand moving to rest on your lower belly. 
Your toes curl, and your legs spasm from the electric shocks that ripple down and up your body. 
“Suguru~” you whine, and he just nibbles at your clit in acknowledgement. 
Your nose gets a little stuffy, your eyes shut close as white little sparks flash from behind your lids. Your lower back arches as he curls his finger, moving in a come hither motion that makes your belly flutter. 
You shake and moan, a string of vowels leaving your tongue. 
You tense around his finger as your orgasm pulses through your body, shaking out of you necessarily. Suguru releases your clit with a pop, but only slows his finger inside you. He keeps maintaining his movement, his gaze catching the daze of your own. 
He’s insatiable. He doesn’t even know if a lifetime would fulfill him from how badly he craves you. 
“I love how you say my name right when you’re about to cum,” he coos, the hand on your lower belly moves further down to touch your tender clit.  He massages the bud with his thumb, his other finger fucking you with calculative precision. “The way your voice gets all breathy and light,” he adds on with a purr, “god, it’s my favorite fucking sound…” 
You’re besotted by him; your eyes glowing with only love as you feel him work his affection between your legs. 
“Going to make you cum again, alright, baby?” He informs, his head dipping back down to replace his thumb with his mouth again. 
You nod your head - you told him you would let him lead, and that’s exactly what’s happening right now. Suguru alternates; sometimes his tongue would be on your clit, and others it’s buried between your folds. The way he’s making love to your body right now has you liquifying. You’re not sure where his touch begins and where your pleasure ends. 
It feels so good, too good. 
You can barely tell when Suguru starts prodding in a second a finger, only when the stretch expands and your breath carries with it. 
“Oh, f-fuck…” you shiver against his mouth, and Suguru uses two fingers this time to pump out your second orgasm. 
He’s a bit rougher with his movements, allowing his fingers to dip and out of you at a pace that relieves some of his own tension. He pulls his mouth away, and lifts his body slightly up as he sees your thighs splay further apart. His other hand comes down to massage your clit, and you can feel your wetness drip down his fingers and between the line of your sex. 
Your belly clenches tightly this time, and your heart skips every other beat. 
“Feel good?” he checks in. 
“Yesyesyes,” you reply eagerly, your hips lifting from the surface. 
“I can see that,” he hums, as he presses more firmly on your clit to swipe back and forth in a quicker motion. “You’re a fucking vision right now…” 
The sound you make is pathetic but you don’t even care - you’re so overwhelmed by what’s happening right now you are not considering how untamed you look. Your hips lift up higher, and you buck against Suguru’s ministrations despite how relentless he is. 
If that man wants you to cum on fingers or tongue, he will make it happen, regardless of how you respond. 
Your second orgasm is sharper, and when it hits, Suguru instantly pulls his hands away and rests it against your hips. Your cunt contracts and pulses in beats, and your spine tingles from the sensation. He arches back forward to snag your a nipple poking against the air. He sucks on the bud, and licks over it once, before sliding his tongue back up your neck until he finds your mouth. 
You can smell yourself on him. 
Taste yourself on him. 
His hands link with your own and he wraps it around his neck so you’re holding him. 
He gives you a few minutes to steady yourself, but your breath is being stolen by his lips and tongue. 
“One more,” he murmurs against your mouth, and you whimper in defeat. 
“You’ll be okay, angel,” he responds as he sits upright. 
He unties his hair, his mane surrounding his face in a dark halo. He pulls back the entirety of its length into a single bun, keeping it out of the way as he watches you pant to steady yourself. 
It occurs to him then that he forgot to put down a towel, but he’s too far gone to stop. 
“We don’t need this anymore,” he instructs, reaching for the string of your panties. 
He takes them off you and drops them to the side. 
His cock strains against his boxers, the bulge making your eyes widen with anticipation. 
He removes them next, allow his dick to spring free as it smacks against him with dribbles of pre-cum leaking from the head. 
“Touch yourself,” he instructs, keeping his eyes on you to make sure you follow through. 
You tweak your nipple with one hand while the other slithers down your stomach. 
God, you were wet. 
Suguru gets up from the bed only to reach for his pants. He pulls out his wallet, and finds the condom that he slipped in just a few months ago. He used to have them on him all the time, but stopped carrying one around after you both got together. But ever since things started heating up, he thought it would be good to have one just in case. 
“Sugu~?” You call out. 
“Yeah, baby?” 
“Can I-” you request, and point at the rubbery material with your other hand. 
He nods his head and settles back on the bed. 
He rips the condom open for you, and you take it. After you position yourself, you proceed to stroke his length, moving back and forth over his shaft and you feeling yourself dripping for him. 
Every part of this man is a blessing. 
Suguru grunts, and stammers “c-condom….” 
But you keep stroking him and lick your lips. “Want you in my mouth…” 
He hisses at that, his abdomen flexing when your thumb drags over his slit. 
He does everything in his power to keep it together, musters up all the will he can to ensure he doesn’t release himself on your hand right then and then. 
“Wait ’til I’m inside you,” he begs, “please, angel…”
You give in because you want it just as much too. 
Once you roll the condom on, Suguru grabs onto your ass and pulls you in for another kiss. This one is a little more sloopy, a little more animalistic. He sucks on your tongue, and leaves a mark of bruising adoration on your bottom lip. He slots his knee between your legs, and situates you down so your pussy was pressed against his thigh. 
“Grind up against me,” he breathes into your mouth. “I like to feel how wet you are…” 
He has one hand on your ass, the other on your nipple which he tweaks and pulls. Your hips start gyrating in thrusts against his thigh, and just as you find a steady pace, he moves to kiss you once again. 
The bed creaks and the springs mewl, but you hump his thigh like you’re in insufferable heat. 
Suguru flexes his thigh against your cunt, and you claw at the front of his chest as you moan into his mouth. 
“I can’t wait to have you riding me,” he smiles into another kiss, and pinches your nipple as you start climbing up yet another peak. He slaps your ass playfully, his teeth biting your bottom lip. “Faster.” 
You oblige, and increase the movements. 
You pull away from his mouth, and press your forehead to his. Your hands brace yourself on his shoulders until both your legs clench around his thigh. 
There’s a tear that leaves you when your orgasm hits this time, but you’re shaking in his arms and he kisses your cheek lovingly. 
“So fucking beautiful,” he praises against your ear. 
His thigh is sticky with your arousal, the glittering strings clinging on both your bodies. 
Suguru kisses you once more, and pushes his weight down so you fall back to the mattress. He keeps you lingering in the act until he aligns himself. “Don’t tense up,” he instructs, “I need you open for me…”
Time goes still with neither of you really breathing. You both focus on the point of contact, watch as Suguru presses the tip of his cock to your entrance. The initial push of the fat head feels like a breach, but you try to do your best to relax. 
“Such a pretty pussy,” he sighs like he’s in disbelief, “my pretty pussy…” 
And with that, he breaks you. 
The stretch makes you scrunch up your nose and brows, but Suguru manages to get the head in with no complications. 
“That’s the tip, baby. You’re doing well. Breathe for me, okay? Just relax…” 
You nod your head, and follow through. With every exhalation you tell your muscles to relax, and allow your body to turn into something that your lover can mold. Suguru pushes in another inch, moving carefully as to not shock you. 
One more now, he counts, watching as you slowly suck him in. 
But you hiss when the stretch starts to burn, and the man drops to his forearms to keep you in a close embrace. 
“Suguru, wait,” you beg worringly, and he halts his movements instantly. 
He kisses your cheek, and then your neck. He kisses your collar bone and then your jaw. He finds your lips and pecks you softly. “Angel,” he soothes, “look at me…” 
Your eyes are brimming with tears. He can feel that you’re fully tensed up. 
When you meet his gaze, you soften, and sniffle as you try to relax your upper body first. 
One of Suguru’s hands finds your hips, and he tenderly rubs gentle circles against your pelvis. 
“I know, baby. I know it’s not comfortable right now, but I promise it’ll feel good. You’re taking me in so well…” he ensures, “but I need you to keep breathing, please.” 
You release a shaky breath, and nod your head as you lick your lips. 
“Nice and slow, remember?” Suguru reminds you. “I’ll only move when you tell me to…” 
A few deep breaths in and out, and you finally give him permission to carry on. 
He guides you the rest of the way, guides you through the painful breach and stretch of him of finally taking your virginity. Your body doesn’t know anyone else but him, but in turn he realizes that he never wants to be inside anyone else other than you. 
You can’t manage his full length at the moment, but that’s okay. 
He isn’t going to hurt you. 
Not ever. 
Goosebumps ripple on your skin. Your head falls back to the pillow as one hand circles around Suguru’s forearm. He kisses your neck with so much care it almost makes your heart shatter to be loved this way. He starts thrusting, his movements so gentle and sweet. His body is connected to yours, his weight heavy as the heat of his cock spreads your gummy walls for him. You tilt your face so you were in line with him, your eyes opening sleepily as you find his set. Your lids are heavy, your body adjusting to the transition from pain to pleasure. Your legs grow weak as they spread further apart from each side, and the more Suguru moves the more he can feel you taking in a little more of him. 
“Feels,” you sigh dreamily, “feels good now…” 
“Think you can take all of me?” He asks. 
“Please,” you beg, “please, try…” 
Suguru braces himself, because he knows he just might bust a nut on the spot from how you are squeezing him. He leans down to kiss your temple and your parted lips, then readjusts his position. 
And then he thrusts. 
Your vision goes white as he buries himself to the hilt. All you can feel his hot heat breath on the side of your neck, the room starting to spin as your body grows to understand this new form, this new feeling. 
He stays still for a few minutes just simply cock warming you. It breaks him then, just how long he’s waited with such determination to have you here in his arms like this. You can feel something wet on your skin. Suguru draws in a deep inhale through his nose, far too overwhelmed by his own emotions. “Heaven,” he murmurs into your neck,“you feel like fucking heaven.” 
When you meet his stare again, you see that his own eyes are glossy. 
Suguru leans down to kiss you, capturing the intimacy on his tongue. “I love you so fucking much,” he exhales once more, and slowly starts moving his hips again. 
“Love you too, Sugu~” you whine back and wrap your arms around his shoulder to keep him as close as possible in your embrace. 
He presses into you, fucks you like you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched, as he makes love to you for the very first time. There is no more words that follow after, just your panting breaths and quiet moans in between. The bed frame hits the wall from his weight, the sheets gathering away from the mattress. You taint the condom with each of his thrusts, both of your hips stuttering from the sensation of your bodies becoming one. Suguru rests his forehead against yours, one hand reaching to lace between your own which he presses down feverishly against the sheet. Your lips hover over one another, sharing each erratic breath. You close your eyes and feel your body blending into all of his angles. 
Suguru kisses your cheek, then slips his tongue back inside your open mouth. 
You’re tangled and knotted up in every way possible, and your hips begin to spasm as your orgasm builds. You can feel your clit brushing up against him, and the sensation makes you shake as your body comes apart. You break away from the kiss just to look down at the point where your bodies meet, and your toes curl as you consider just how perfectly made you are for one another. 
When your orgasm rips, you almost pass out. 
Suguru holds you in place, his movements more careless when gives in to his last few thrusts. 
He groans loudly when he finally cums. 
Your bodies collapse into each other, your form pulled into strings as if you are swimming in a black hole of love. You’re clinging onto him out of need, still attempting to come down from this euphoric high. Meanwhile, Suguru doesn’t pull out just yet, but instead rolls over to his side and keeps you tucked in his frame. 
When you meet his attention, you see life bleed back into your little bubble of love. 
His hair is tousled, his cheeks a little blushed. You trace your fingers against the crimson blooming underneath his skin, notice that his eyes are still glittering from when the tears formed. 
“Hi,” you whisper.  
“Hi,” he answers back. “You okay?” 
You prod your face into his neck, nuzzling him and gathering his scent. The air smells of your love for each other, and you just wanted to take it all in. 
“I’m okay,” you reassure, before returning back and meeting him eye to eye. 
Suguru reaches on hand up, and slowly outlines the shell of your ear. 
He can’t stop staring at you. 
He’s so in love with every part of you. 
But this time, there was nothing guarding that fact, it’s written so plainly on his face. 
The way he’s looking at you, you know nobody has ever seen such an expression before. 
This is a first for him too. 
And how lucky are you to be the only person in the world to witness it. 
₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚
tags: @gradmacoco @labelt-san @bloomix00 @fleurni
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pboogerswbb · 1 day ago
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SO IT GOES - chapter 17
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Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, ANGST, badly proofread Wordcount: 3.4K A/C: short chapter to set everything up for the FINAL chapter of the Before London section! enjoy this :) i'm sorry...
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Before London
three weeks later
“Hey baby, come in,” Lala steps aside to let me into her and Arike’s beautiful apartment. Despite how quickly I had grown close with the two of them, I hadn’t been here since that night early in the season. That night I chose wrong.
“You look gorgeous!” I smile, holding a bag of pastries and two iced matchas in my other hand.
“So do you Zari,” the older woman smiles as I make my way in. The AC brings relief quickly, August in Dallas not any cooler than July. “I love the shorts.”
I smooth over my white linen shorts, the matching button up left open with a black tube top underneath. I follow Lala to the couch, sitting down on the opposite corner, letting my hair down from a clip.
“Where’s Arike?” I ask, handing the other matcha to her.
“Practice,” Lala says. “I swear she doesn’t do anything but train now that it looks like they’re making it to the playoffs.”
I chuckle, sipping on my drink. Indeed the Dallas Wings had really turned it around since the early season, Arike and her had become a feared backcourt duo already. Things were looking positively bright for the team despite everything else.
“So, how are you doin’?” Lala asks.
“Oh, I’m good, lots of work but… Good. And you?”
Lala looks at me tilting her head and reaching out to stroke my arms comfortingly. “Zari, I mean how are you really?”
Gulping, I move my gaze from her intruding eyes to the matcha in my hands. I know what she wants to talk about. And I should talk about it to someone. But it was easier to just bury myself in work. 
It had been three weeks since me and Paige spoke. Of course there were forced conversations here and there, running into her at the apartment building, interviews and content we had to do together. But we got through those, we’re both professionals after all. Other than that there hadn’t been many words.
I need some space Paige. I’m sorry it has to be like this. I really care about you, but I have to think what’s right for me. It’s all too much too soon and I need to think about what I want. I’m sorry.
Izzie please could I just come over and talk abt this. Please.
I think it’s best we don’t talk for a little while Paige.
Those were the last texts between me and her. Radio silence after that. I guess exactly what I’d asked for, except it was killing me inside. I felt sick all the time, unable to eat or sleep. The nausea was overwhelming, leaving me to nibble on my food until I felt sick to my stomach. It showed, I could tell I looked tired, worn. 
“I’m… hanging in there, you know?” I finally answer.
Lala nods, stroking my arm caringly. “What’s going on with you and Paige?”
My heart stumbles. When I was little I had a habit of pressing bruises on my legs to make them hurt - hearing her name felt like that, echoing in my ear painfully. I bite down on my lower lip to stop the trembling. Stop Izzie. Stop.
“I just, I don’t think I’m ready for what she wants,” I mumble, ignoring the burn in my eyes or the scratchiness of my throat. “She told me she loved me.”
She nods knowingly. I guess Paige had told her all about it too. It hurts me to know I hurt her enough to have her coming to Lala and Arike for advice.
“And you don’t feel the same?” She asks, biting down on the pastry.
Without hesitation I shake my head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… My past and I haven’t healed enough yet. I keep projecting my fears onto Paige and it’s not fair. It’s just gonna keep getting worse until… Until she realises I’m not a good person. Or a lovable person.”
“Zari, you know that’s not true,” Lala comforts me. But I don’t need comforting over it. I know it’s true. I’ve accepted it. I shrug, taking a sip of my matcha.
“So you love her,” Lala doesn’t ask but states as a fact. My heart sinks. I don’t know what I feel. Perhaps she’s right, perhaps I do. But everytime I dared to think it might be true, I remember what happens to me when I fall in love. What happened the last time, bound to happen again.
“I don’t know how I feel,” I admit, my voice shakier than I’d like. Inhaling deeply, I say the words that force me to face reality. “I think if it’s this hard already… It will never work out.”
“Respectfully, I disagree,” Lala says surprisingly. “You two are really good together, good for each other.”
“Then why is it so hard to make it work?” I ask, my eyes welling up. In a perfect world, I would just want her, and that would be enough. But in this one, nothing about this was easy. I had to live in reality, not in some fairytale I had created in my mind.
“Me and Rike had issues too at first,” she says. I furrow my brows. Her and Arike? But they were perfect.
Like reading my mind she chuckles. “I know, but trust me we did. It took a lot of work and resilience to get to this point. But we both knew it was worth it because in the end we were meant to be together, y’know.”
“How do you know it’s worth it?” I ask.
The woman smiles, taking my hand and squeezing it. “That’s for you to figure out, Zari.”
-
“I like your accent”
“I like your accent”
“I like your accent”
I look at the clip over and over, Gabby eyeing her up and down before walking off. Jealousy runs through my veins straight into my heart. I guess I didn’t have the right to be jealous, not anymore.
My mind could barely wrap around what had happened between us. I wanted to blame Trey, that her advances had freaked Izara out. I wanted to blame Gabby, that she got into Izara’s head and made her change her mind about me. But I knew it wasn’t true. It was just easier to blame someone else than to accept that the fault was mine.
I couldn’t believe how I had behaved that night. Izzie, who had been brave enough to be vulnerable about her past, had revealed parts of herself to me that she hadn’t to anyone else. And I had made a promise to protect her heart. And I had done the complete opposite.
A horrible dread loomed over me, preying on me behind every corner. The only time I could escape it was on the court, so most of my days were spent at our practicing facilities with Arike. She did her best to get me to talk about me and Izzie, but I had become skillful in the art of avoidance. Yet, when I climbed up the stairs of our building, past her door, my heart sank each time. The one place I couldn’t avoid her was home
I miss you
I write the text, finger hovering over the send button before deleting it. No. She needed space.
And if I loved her at all, I'd give it to her. Even if it killed me inside.
-
I yawn as I hold my coffee cup, inhaling the comforting smell. I hadn’t really been sleeping well in the past weeks, apparent by the layers of makeup I had to add to my undereyes that had darkened. 
“Are the girls ready soon?” The set director yells, peeking her head into the dressing room. 
“About to get dressed,” the stylist said, handing around grey, black and white boxers. Woxer - the women’s boxer brand had got some of the Wings to do a photoshoot, so now the players were lined up in chairs, getting their makeup and hair done in the early morning.
I’m trying my best to keep my eyes at the floor, but every now and then my gaze flickers to Paige, as she laughs lightheartedly with Lou, without a care in the world.
Trey’s on his phone beside me, texting quietly. 
“Hey Trey, could you take some pics from right here please?” I ask, whispering, watching the way the player’s impressions reflect on the mirror.
Trey, with a quiet huff, rolls his eyes but does as I asked wordlessly. Ever since that night he tried to kiss me, he had been cold and distant. It sucked, because I thought we were friends. But I was never a friend to him, I saw that now. Still, I felt guilty. Maybe I had led him on. Perhaps I’d been too harsh.
The girls change, all standing around in their boxers and sports bras. I can’t tear my eyes from Paige, her tan skin against the white cotton. The effort she had put in had done favors to her - her weight had gone up, shoulders broad and arms grown especially in her biceps, much like her thighs. Oh God. This couldn���t possibly get worse for me.
And then it does.
Two people walk in, holding a body oil and begin to lather the players up one by one. My body wants me to forget the past three weeks and rub the oil into Paige’s skin myself as I watch these strangers’ massage her body. Her muscles look more defined, smooth skin glowing as she looks at herself in the mirror and grins.
“Holy shit,” she chuckles and flexes in the mirror. “Goddamn I look sexy.”
My heart flutters, eyes burning suddenly like they did every time she spoke around me. It was so easy to imagine everything was okay between us. God, I wish they were. But I didn’t know anymore. Love shouldn’t be this hard. So it can’t be real love.
Mine and Paige’s gazes meet in the mirror momentarily, but I quickly look to the ground, walking with the crew to the set doing everything I can not to even look the blonde’s way.
“The girls are gonna love this,” Arike chuckles as they get positioned in front of the camera. I smile to myself. She wasn’t wrong. The Wings’ demographic had changed immensely, crowds full of girls ogling over each player - mostly over my girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, I mean. I guess. We were still just on a break.
The girls go through the group photos, moving on to singular shots. They all look amazing, and I know this campaign was a good one to get for them. I sip on my coffee, posting teasers on social media when the set director taps my shoulder.
“Hey, could you be a doll and help out a bit,” she smiles. I glance around, everyone else is running around, helping the other girls.
“Of course, whatever you need,” I reply, putting my phone down. Only to see her hand me a bottle of baby oil, pointing to the set where Paige is standing, getting final touches for her hair. You have to be fucking joking. What did I do in my past life to deserve this.
Too nice to resist, or to ask for someone else to do it, I take a deep breath before walking over to the blonde. Her eyes widen momentarily as I approach her. Paige clears her throat, and bites down on her bottom lip.
“Hey,” I say quietly, showing her the bottle. 
“Sup,” she replies, looking everywhere but at me as I pour the oil onto my hands.
“Sorry, they needed help,” I murmur, bracing myself before walking behind her and beginning to oil up her newly carved out back - not that I should notice or care. But I do.
 I don’t miss the goosebumps forming on her skin as I rub her body, kneeling down to do her legs. My hands massage her calves, knees and finally her thighs. My body was betraying me, forcing me to take gulps of air as quietly as I could as my hands wander over Paige’s body. Every nerve inside me feels as if on fire. I do my best to ignore it, but a nagging feeling in my head tells me she feels it too.
Getting back up face to face with her, I begin to massage the oil into her hands. Those strong, long fingers, one by one. Her hand curls slightly in mine. Just enough to make me wonder if I imagined it.
Suddenly her voice cuts through the tension. “So, how you been?” There’s no malice, no anger. A genuine question. It catches me off guard.
“Um, good. I mean okay,” I murmur, my eyes glued on Paige’s arms so I didn’t have to look into her ocean blue eyes. “How about you?”
She nods slowly. “Okay too,” she says in a hoarse voice, her breath hitching when my long nails scratch against her abs before rubbing in the oil. We go quiet, the hussle of the set seems distant around us.
“All done,” I say, glancing up to let myself take a dip in her eyes just for a moment. I nearly drown, wanting to say more. But there was nothing to say.
Paige looks down at me, exhaling shakily.
“Thanks, Iz,” she hums. Hearing my name come out of her mouth again felt euphoric. In that moment I want to make it work more than anything.
-
“Gotta be kidding,” I mumble to myself after the second time I tried to wash my body clean of the oil. It didn’t help. I kept finding it everywhere. As I’m about to hop back into the shower, my phone rings. Dad.
“Sup Bobby,” I answer, putting on my best act of my normal self. Though I was just slightly elated from feeling Izzie’s hands on me earlier. It was enough to keep me going for the rest of the day. However, it reminded me of how badly I missed her. And I did. Every damn day.
“I’m not loving that nickname,” my dad jokes. “Was just asking if you’re still flying in next week?”
Fuck. I had completely forgotten I had promised to show up to surprise my little brother who had been missing me badly according to my dad. Next week was the only time I could, before the playoffs would consume my life.
“Yeah, ‘course,” I mumble, sitting on the corner of my bed in my robe.
“Drew’s gonna be so damn happy,” he says happily into the phone. I chuckle dryly in response. I would die for my brother, but it was the worst timing with everything going on. “You bringing your girl too? Would be nice to see Zari!”
I nearly hiss at the sound of her name. Clenching my fist I shake my head as if my dad could see it.
“Nah,” is all I can muster up.
“Uh oh,” he says into the phone. “Trouble in paradise?”
I exhale, trying to think of a way to lie myself out of this one. Except I don’t have the strength to. So I tell him everything, the I love you, the bar fights, the secrecy, every little detail that had gone right and put me and Izzie on a path we weren’t supposed to be on. This couldn’t be God’s way.
“Shit,” he says bluntly. I chuckle bitterly, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye.
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
My dad stays on the line, quiet for a while before speaking. “You know, sometimes love doesn’t happen at the speed you wish it did.”
I listen. He’s right. Much like Izzie made schedules of her entire life, I created a schedule in my head of our relationship. One I was disappointed she wasn’t following. Despite being very aware of her past.
“It don’t mean she doesn’t love you, or care about you just as much as you do about her. But people bring different baggage into their relationships and it just… Changes how they view love y’know? I met that girl. She spent the entire time laughing at my stupid jokes and talking with your old man. She loves you. But maybe to say it outloud for her means something else than it does for you.”
I hate that he’s right. My mind jumps back to Izzie telling me about Jasper, the way she was trembling and hyperventilating when I accidentally snapped at her - all because of one man that had really messed her up. She was always hard to read. I knew everything she told me about her engagement was likely just the tip of the iceberg. How could I be so impatient and careless with her. 
“I mean maybe you just gotta be patient - Not easy for you I know but... Give her some time. She’ll come around Paige. Just do something small to show her that you’ll be there when she’s ready.”
His words really hit me. I knew exactly what to do. Telling my dad I’ll call him later I get dressed in a rush, checking the clock. She’d be home in about five minutes. I knew this because of course I had memorised her schedule.
I don’t care how long it takes. I’m not going anywhere. - P
Hurrying downstairs, I leave in front of her apartment door the note on top of the real Cadbury’s chocolate bar I ordered from England - the exact one Izzie had told me she missed on our first date. 
-
5, 6, 7… I count the reps in my head as I do shoulder press, sweat trickling down my back. The burn in my muscles makes me shut my eyes, Drake blasting from my earbuds. I let out a deep sigh of relief when I finally place the weights down onto the ground. The weight room was the only place I found my mind going quiet - the only place I didn’t worry about me and Izzie. 
“Paige,” Arike jogs to the room, out of breath. “Bro.”
I turn, expecting to see her usual, smiley self. Instead I’m faced with serious, furrowed brows, frowning Arike. Something’s wrong. Very wrong.
“Yeah?” I ask, taking off my earbud. She walks to me, shoving her phone onto my hand.
-
I run the hallways of College Park, my sneakers squeaking against the floor echoing up and down the halls. Where the hell is she? This can’t be happening. No fucking way this is happening.
My heart feels like it might burst. Like it’s trying to race out of my chest as I look for the familiar dark waves, the sharp green eyes, the confident posture of the woman I loved. Where the fuck is Izara?
My stomach churns. I feel sick, not just for me. But for Izzie. Almost mindlessly I check behind every unlocked door, every corner. But I can’t find her.
“Trey!” I yell, running after the man walking ahead of me. He turns, clearly still angry from what happened at the bar. I don’t care. It’s the least of my worries right now. “You seen Izzie?”
He rolls his eyes but shakes his head. “Not since this morning.”
“Fuck,” I mumble and jog off the other direction. Never had I cursed College Park for being such a maze before. The fluorescent lights were making my eyes dry and my head spinned. Finally I decide to stop. 
Closing my eyes I listen. I hear it. The clacking of her heels.
It’s faint. But it’s her.
Walking toward the sound behind a corner I find her, like some miracle. But seeing her only makes me feel more sick to my stomach.
“Izzie,” I pant out, my lower lip trembling but I bite down on it to make it stop.
“P- Paige? What’s wrong?” She asks, immediately taken back by my expression.
Without a word, I hand her my phone. On the screen it’s playing a video with over 500k views. From three weeks ago, Izzie and I, hugging and dancing against each other in the dim, purple hue of the club lights.  And finally, facing each other and clearly, without a doubt, kissing each other passionately carelessly. The entire moment just for us, now shared with everyone online.
-
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greenwitchfromthewoods · 3 days ago
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this one morning. l Joel Miller
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Summary: signs appeared
Warnings: fluff, some worries and concerns, some tears, Ann and Tommy appear, pregnancy?
A/N: tell me what you think about it. about this chapter? about this story? about what I write? about anything? special thanks to @underneath-the-sky-again. thank you, sweetie
your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes
short stories from life. [masterlist]
The patrols had been called off due to the blizzard. Joel and a few other men were securing the stables and then they were going to tackle the interior of another house. Ellie and Dina didn't feel like spending time with you, which you understood perfectly, so you bundled up and went to Ann's house. The Christmas lights were shining in her windows, Ann had an uncanny ability to create a wonderful homely atmosphere and you knew that spending time there would definitely help you.
“I can’t believe how fast he’s growing,” you said, looking at Elijah who was sitting in his playpen, busy with his toys.
“I just need to blink and he’ll grow up a little.” Ann laughed, placing a cup of tea in front of you. “Joel brought in the wooden blocks he made for him yesterday. I didn’t know he could do things like that! Are you sure you don’t want some coffee?”
“No, thank you.” You replied. “I haven’t been able to drink it or even smell it lately.”
Ann handed you a piece of cake, smiling as if she remembered something really funny. “I remember Shane making me coffee once. I got sick and threw up in the kitchen sink. Then it turned out to be Elijah’s fault. Right, honey?” she cooed at the boy, and he squealed as if he understood her.
But his mother's face suddenly turned serious, her eyes widening as she looked at you. Your name fell from her lips in a whisper. "Can you be..." she began.
You couldn't answer. The thought had been circling your mind for almost two weeks. You hadn't talked about it with anyone, but deep down you were glad that it was your friend who asked the question you were afraid of.
"I don't know." You answered quietly, gripping the hot mug tighter in your hands. "I... I have no idea."
Ann sat on the edge of the couch, leaning toward you. “But you can be? How late are you?”
“Six weeks, almost seven.”
Ann’s face gave way to a ghost of a smile, but then she turned serious again. “Did you take a test?” You shook your head. “Joel knows?”
“I didn’t tell him.” You looked down, feeling a knot in your stomach. “I don’t want to give him hope…”
“Hope?” Ann’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You tried for that baby!”
You put the cup on the table and hid your face in your hands, sighing deeply. You wanted to tell Joel everything. You hated keeping secrets from him, but at the same time you were afraid that it might be a false alarm. You had been feeling uneasy for a few weeks now, but you kept it to yourself.
"I'm scared." You finally said, giving vent to what had been sitting in your chest for so long. "After what happened last time, I'm scared..." You looked at Ann, tears glistening in her eyes. You finally stopped defending yourself. A few tears rolled down your cheeks. "What if this all happens again? My heart would break if..."
“Don’t think like that.” Ann cut you off and quickly stood up, then sat down next to you. “You both deserve to be happy. You should take a test and tell Joel. Do you have one?”
You nodded, wiping your cheek. “I found it at the pharmacy on my last patrol.”
“Don’t tell Joel that.” Ann grabbed your hand, smiling. “If Joel finds out you suspected you were pregnant and were on patrol…” 
You both giggled. A weight lifted from your heart and you felt a little better. This conversation didn’t solve all your worries, but you already knew you weren’t alone in this. And that was comforting.
The soft whistle of the kettle echoed through the kitchen. Joel poured boiling water into the mugs, then picked them up and slowly walked up the stairs. It was still early, and you had plenty of time before you had to take care of your duties. You could spend this time lounging in your warm bed and lazily cuddling—Joel really liked that. Time just for the two of you, time to pretend the world hadn’t ended at all, and everything was as it could be.
He set the cups down by the empty bed and noticed that the light was still coming from under the bathroom door. Nothing else. No sound, no morning bustle, no running water. That worried Joel a little. He walked quietly to the door.
“Sweetheart?” he knocked. “Are you okay? I made you some tea.”
Silence. Joel frowned, feeling a growing unease in his chest. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair and knocked again.
“You’re worrying me, sweetheart. Can I come in?”
You didn't say anything. Joel put his hand on the doorknob and the door opened without a problem. He carefully entered and immediately saw you sitting on the edge of the tub. Something was wrong. Joel swallowed.
"Something wrong?" he asked "Baby, talk to me, please..."
You looked up at him with barely visible eyes, tears glistening in them. "Joel..." your voice broke.
You couldn't speak. You held out the long, white object to him, and Joel, slightly confused, took it in his hand. It took him a few seconds to realize what he was looking at. Two distinct lines could only mean one thing.
"Baby..." he sighed, looking at you in a way he had never done before. "Really?"
You nodded, feeling tears streaming down your cheeks again. "I'm almost 7 weeks late. I don't feel nauseous, but my breasts are sore, and the smell of coffee is irritating... Yeah, I think we did it, Joel."
You looked at each other for a moment. Neither of you knew what to say, the moment had swallowed you like a bubble and you were completely stunned. Finally, it was Joel who made the first move, placing the test on the sink and reaching for you. You took his hand and stood up, snuggling up to him. He was warm, smelling like home. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, feeling your heartbeat and at the same time feeling like his legs were made of cotton.
"Are you happy?" you gasped, your cheeks still wet.
A warm hand cupped your cheek. Joel smiled. You saw the small wrinkles around his eyes, his soft brown eyes full of feelings for you.
"I'm the happiest man in the world, my love," he replied, "I have everything with you."
And he kissed you, already knowing that what he was saying was true.
"Joel? What the hell are you doing here?"
Tommy approached his brother, who was preparing to go on patrol. His horse was already saddled, and his rifle was slung over his shoulder. He looked at him, demanding an explanation.
“How does that look to you? I’m going on patrol,” Joel replied, still working. “We’re leaving in ten minutes.”
“It’s not your turn,” Tommy said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What now? She was feeling sick the other day, and then she had to help Ann. You can’t keep covering for her on patrol.”
“That doesn’t bother anyone,” Joel muttered. “Come on, Tommy.”
The man snickered. “What? Is she pregnant or something?”
Something in Joel shifted slightly. Tommy had known him long enough to notice it. He noticed the small gesture, the change in his gaze.
“No shit!” he choked out. “Really? Damn! You still have it, don’t you? Oh, man!” he patted Joel on the shoulder. “That’s good news!” But he noticed that Joel’s face wasn’t as happy as he’d expected. Quite the opposite. Something was nagging at him.
Tommy leaned in slightly. “But she’s fine, right? Have you been to the clinic yet?”
Joel nodded. “Yeah. She goes almost every week. Listen…” he looked at Tommy, and Tommy saw the hidden fear in his eyes. “After what happened, we don’t want to take any risks. Morris says everything’s great, but we won’t be able to relax until we get to the second trimester.”
“What week is she?”
“Almost ten.” The corner of his mouth lifted. Just the thought of you and the baby growing under your heart made him want to smile.
Tommy looked at the men preparing for patrol, then back at Joel. “Listen, you’re not alone. We’ll all keep an eye on her, I promise you. No patrols, no hard work.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. We’re family, right?”
Joel nodded. “Don’t spread it around. We want to keep it to ourselves as long as possible.”
“Sure.” Tommy grinned. “Back to diapers, huh? You must be so happy.”
“We are.”
The same day you took the test, you went to the clinic. You waited until dusk again and kept it a secret. Dr. Morris examined you and assured you that the pregnancy was progressing.
“The results are normal. The heart is beating strongly,” he said as you stared at the blurry image on the screen. “You should be more careful because of what happened earlier. But I think you’re out of danger at this point.”
From that day on, every night, Joel put a red cross on the calendar in the workshop. He counted down the days until you were both safe. There was nothing more he could do. Joel took over for you on patrol, but that was all. Oh, and he also started drinking coffee by the open window or on the porch so the smell wouldn’t bother you. Despite all your fears, you were truly happy.
And you were in this together, like a family.
☆☆☆☆
Thank you for your time.
taglist, i think: @picketniffler @orcasoul @bbyanarchist @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @somedayheaven @underneath-the-sky-again @callmebyyournick-name @hiroikegawa @mandaloriankait
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winterishopefvl · 1 day ago
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warnings: amab caitlyn, afab reader, mean caitlyn (kinda), public sex, reader is wearing a dress and heels, bratty reader, unprotected sex, throat fucking (r receiving), spanking, cheating, lmk if i forgot anything. mdni!!!!!
caitlyn keeps you up at night.
not in the sense that she talks too much, or that she's busy between your legs to let you sleep. though, you can't see yourself minding either of those reasons.
it's in the sense that you can't stop thinking about the woman you can't have.
she's so perfect to you, in the way she moves and in the way she exists, just everything about her.
there's a permanent throbbing between your legs when you're around her. you know she's seeing someone, and you know it's wrong, you'd never sabotage her relationship.
but if that's true, then, how did you end up here? how did you end up face down, ass-up in her bed? why is her cum spilling out of your hole?
to be fair, it wasn't your fault. it was caitlyn's.
turns out she's been wanting you just as bad as you've been wanting her. she's been using maddie to stop thinking about you.
you're both scions of noble families, you've seen each other almost every weekend for your entire lives, but you've never really gotten along. maybe it was the lust or the tension between you two, but you were constantly on edge around each other.
a while ago on a spring morning, at a luncheon thrown by your family, both you and caitlyn had been left alone in the study when your parents were giving her family a tour of your home. it was just lingering glances and small touches at first, but now, right there on your father's desk, it'd gone from small touches to messy kisses. messy kisses led to you sitting on the edge of the desk, skirt bunched around your waist and caitlyn's hands on your hips, fucking you impatiently and sloppily.
it was messy, rushed, and never spoken about, but you found your mind wandering back to that memory every time someone touched you. you wanted that moment again, you wanted to feel her cock stretching you and filling you just right again.
at every single event, every single time caitlyn caught sight of you in your perfect outfits, she had to grab the urge to rip every bit of fabric off your body and drown it. you weren't any better, not at all. tonight was at its worst though.
it was an event hosted by caitlyn's family, so it was really, really fancy. caitlyn was wearing this beautiful purple dress that hugged her figure just right, and you found your fucking mouth watering.
you had to stuff hors d'oeuvres in your mouth just to hide the drool that threatened to dribble out of your mouth. you've never downed champagne quicker in your fucking life, either.
and at the right moment, in the middle of a conversation you were having with a woman you couldn't care less about, you must've been lucky or something, because you looked over in caitlyn's direction, and she was already staring at you with the hungriest look you've ever seen before. she didn't look away when your eyes met hers this time, she just took a slow sip of her champagne, not even ashamed of the way her eyes were fixed on the dip in the neckline of your dress. it was just a bit too tight around your chest, so the tops of your boobs were threatening to spill out, straining against the silk.
her fingers twitched around the glass, like she was resisting the urge to touch. you don't know what the fuck is wrong with you tonight, but you smirked when you caught her eyes on your chest, acting smug rather than how you were really feeling. the sight of that smirk made caitlyn's eyes narrow, and she had to resist the drag you up to her bedroom and shove her cock down your throat to wipe that stupid smirk off your face.
now that you knew she was staring, you'd stupidly decided to tease her some more. you turned your head back to the woman you were talking to, letting your fingers linger a bit too long on her wrist when complimenting her bracelet. caitlyn just scoffed at first, but then you leaned in to whisper some comment to the woman, making her laugh and blush. now that caught her attention.
it annoyed her to no end, even if she didn't want to admit it. she wanted to be the one you were whispering to, she wanted to be the one who blushed at a comment you made.
there was only so much this poor girl could take before she dragged you away, and you knew that, you wanted her to drag you away. your hand found it's place on the woman's waist, nodding along and feigning interest to every little thing she said.
but then you felt a tap on your shoulder, and you only hoped it was caitlyn. you swore janna fucking finally blessed you or some shit, this truly was your lucky night because it was caitlyn. there was a slight twitch of her fingers that stemmed from annoyance, and you noticed. instead of being kind- being good- you decided to be a little shit, “can i help you, caitlyn? i'm a bit busy.”
caitlyn scoffed at your disinterested tone, wrapping her fingers around your wrist, “yes, you can help me. i need your opinion on something in the other room.” she didn't even let you make up your mind before she started to lead you away, making you a bit more than annoyed, “what the fuck, caitlyn? i was busy-”
“i can't exactly find it in me to care that you were busy.” she shot back, pushing you back against the wall of a random hallway you've yet to find yourself in, despite the many times you've been to her home. caitlyn's finger pressed against your chest, an annoyed look on her face, “you've been teasing me all night.”
you huffed at the accusation, batting her hand away from your chest and denying the claim immediately, “have not!” you defended, making her respond with “you have. don't be difficult when we both know you were being a brat.”
your jaw tightened at the use of the word brat, pushing her back away from you, “i was not being a brat. don't call me that as if it has some sort of weight coming from you.”
caitlyn's lips parted in surprise at the shove, a surprised scoff leaving her. she clicked her tongue, before extending her hand to grab your chin, “do not push me around again, or i will punish you.”
you couldn't deny the way your clit throbbed between your legs from how firm she was being, but you also just loved being a brat, “you don't have the balls to punish me if you can't even hold fucking eye contact with me after fucking me in my dad's study.”
there was a moment of silence after your comment, but you could see every emotion in her eyes. the embarrassment, the anger, the arousal. caitlyn's hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides just barely, “would you like to test that theory?” it wasn't a question, not a real one, at least. your answer was in the form of a squeak when she pushed you down onto your knees, making you frown and swat at her knee like a child, “the fuck's your problem?!”
caitlyn had to resist the urge to snap at you, instead pinching your cheeks in her hand, forcing you to look up at her. you were so fixated on her face, you didn't even notice her other hand hiking up the skirt of her dress, “shut up, and suck.” it was a demand, one that became very real very fast when she pushed your face against her panties, your mouth pressing against her half hard cock through the fabric.
there's a muffled squeal against her panties, and you wanna protest so bad, but you can't when your mouth is watering at the thought of having your throat fucked by her. you look up at her once she's let go of your cheeks, swallowing another bratty comment that threatened to leave your throat. your fingers came up to tug her panties down, freeing her cock and you gasped softly.
caitlyn was almost surprised at how quickly you gave in, but she also expected it, you were all talk, you just needed someone to put you in your place, “stop staring at it. this is what you've been asking for, isn't it?” she chided you for not immediately getting to work, moving her hand to the top of your head and pushing you towards her leaking cock.
“fuck you, caitlyn.” you shot back, but caitlyn took the opportunity to push your head down onto her cock. her tip hit the back of your throat and you gagged, slapping her thigh in protest.
caitlyn just stifled a moan at both the slap and the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around her. you whimpered every time her balls slapped against your chin, grasping her thighs even as tears filled your eyes. she fucked your throat like she'd die if she stopped, nails digging into your scalp, burying her entire, throbbing cock into your throat, looking down to see your nose buried in the trimmed blue hair at the base of her cock.
she made you take her entire length, making you gag over and over again around her. you weren't entirely sure you weren't dreaming, you'd been wanting this for weeks, months even. and now here you were, having your throat fucked by the one woman you'd been craving for years.
it was embarrassing feeling your panties stick uncomfortably to your skin, completely drenched with your arousal, you loved hated that you liked being used like this. drool dribbled from the corners of your mouth, doing your best to breathe through your nose, the twitch of her cock being the only indicator that she was close.
you whimpered when she buried herself in your mouth to the hilt, holding your head in place as her cum down your throat. her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, “swallow it.” she gritted out, and you listened like it was an instinct, greedily swallowing every little drop of her load.
caitlyn pulled you off her cock with little grace, fixed her dress and panties, and wrapped her long fingers around your chin to pull you up to your feet. your knees wobbled at the sudden change from being on the floor, grasping her waist to steady yourself, but it proved to be almost useless when her lips slammed against your own.
you could only gasp into her mouth, wrapping your arms around her so your hands settled on the small of her back. she cupped your face in her hands– gently– a stark contrast to how rough she was before, pulling away after a long while just to breathe. her eyes softened a fraction when she saw how wrecked you looked, but immediately hardened again, “come with me.” she said, a little bit softer though, tugging your hand and leading you through her house.
you sucked in a sharp breath when she started to drag you around again, your body jerking forward, “where are we going?“ you rasped out, your throat hurting from how roughly she'd fucked your throat.
“my room.” caitlyn answered simply, pulling you through a random set of double doors, and pushing you onto her bed. she waved a finger, gesturing to your dress, “off. now.”
all your earlier smugness and confidence had just vanished in caitlyn's presence, now you were almost shy as you undressed yourself. caitlyn kneeled down by the edge of the bed, unclasping your heels and tossing them at a random point in her bedroom. caitlyn wanted you so bad, but she was determined to be patient, to wait.
once your shoes were off, she felt your eyes on her, she felt you staring as her slender fingers unzipped her dress, then hooked under the straps, and slowly– teasingly– pulled it down and to the floor. you were laying on her bed, wide eyed and only in your underwear, “caitlyn–” you gasped softly when she turned around, seeing her perfect breasts for the first time. you wanted to touch, to wrap your lips around her nipples and make her moan.
you reached for her hand, pulling her down onto the bed, but she just pushed your hand away, “someone's getting impatient.” caitlyn observed mockingly, her fingers on your shoulders to turn you around.
she shimmied her panties off to leave her bare, her cock slapping against her stomach, coming up behind you to press a kiss to your shoulder, a faux sense of comfort. but it worked, in some way, some of the tension in your shoulders drained, letting her unclasp your bra and toss it to the floor. her hands were soft, but the way she touched you wasn't. caitlyn moved you to the middle of her mattress, pushing your face down into the pillows, keeping your ass high in the air.
you squeaked in surprise from the way she handled you, turning your head to look at her, but stopping halfway when two of her long fingers slid into your pussy. when did she even get your panties off? how did you not notice?
you moaned out at the feeling, pushing back against the digits, “fuck, caitlyn–” you whimpered when she started to move her fingers, her pace brutal, “you really shouldn't have teased me, love. and using that poor girl to make me mad? shameful.” caitlyn cooed mockingly in your ear, her free hand pushing your face down into the mattress again, “just stop talking, sweetheart. you'll only get yourself into more trouble.”
the sheets bunched up in your grip underneath you, having no choice but to take the rough treatment, muffling moans and cries into her soft pillows.
you could feel the coil in your tummy get tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any given moment. caitlyn could feel it, your walls rhythmically squeezing her fingers, but she didn't want you to cum yet. she lowered her head beside your ear, her voice soft, but no less firm, “don't you dare cum right now.”
a whine tumbled from your throat at the denial, lifting your head so she could see the teary, desperate eyes peering back at her. caitlyn just hummed, cupping your cheek to swipe a fallen tear from your cheek, pulling her fingers out of you when she saw your eyes start to roll back. you cried out when she abruptly pulled away, letting out a weak sob into the sheets.
she couldn't help but laugh, it was so pathetic, almost comical. but then, caitlyn positioned herself behind you, lining her cock with your entrance. but you were too busy wallowing in your self pity to really notice her moving, a pout fixed on your lips, but quickly formed into an ‘o’ when caitlyn pushed the tip of her cock inside you.
caitlyn stretched you out slowly, carefully, but that didn't mean she wasn't actively fighting her own desire to ram into you with reckless abandon, “so pathetic. just needed cock to shut you up, hm? that's all you needed to behave?” she punctuated the last word with a rough thrust, making you gasp and your body jerk forward with every inch that stretched your pussy.
you nodded mindlessly to her question, biting down on your bottom lip as you adjusted to her size. after you assured her you were fine, caitlyn's hips started to move against yours in a way that couldn't be described with hateful. but did she hate you? or did she hate the way you made her feel?
“such– such a cockslut, aren't you, love?” caitlyn said through clenched teeth, her head falling back as she continued to rut into you from behind. you could only moan in response, your ass pressing back against her, as if to take her deeper.
caitlyn brought her hand down on one of your ass cheeks, making you yelp in pain, “w-what was that for?” you stuttered pathetically, earning another slap from the girl behind you.
“i told you to stop talking, didn't i?” she asked rhetorically, bringing her hand down to spank you one more time, “take my cock, but don't talk. just lay there and take it like a good girl."
a whimper slipped out between your lips from the sting, simply nodding again when her hips started to move even faster against yours. the front of her thighs slapping against the backs of yours, her balls hitting your clit with every thrust. you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching again, walls squeezing her cock tighter and tighter,
“you're close, aren't you? gonna cum for me, love?” she panted out, clearly close to her own orgasm as well. you nodded your head rapidly, her hand winding in your hair and pulling so your back was stuck in a deep arch. you gasped at the switch, her cock impossibly deep inside you. her free hand came around you to rub your clit in messy circles, burying her face in the crook of your neck, “cum for me. you can cum now, sweetheart, cum for me.”
it was like your body was waiting for her to give you permission, because almost immediately after she gave you the greenlight, you found yourself gushing around her cock, a white ring forming at the base of her cock. her hips stuttered and she let go of your hair to hold your hips, fucking into your willing hole with so much force it made you fall forward, and the bed start to shake.
caitlyn positioned you to fuck you as deeply as she could, burying her throbbing cock to the base inside you, spilling her cum into your womb with little regard of the potential consequences.
so i guess that's how you found yourself face down in caitlyn's bed.
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i have like the worst caitlyn brainrot right now 😭😭
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goyardgoyangi · 2 days ago
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fwb! oliver aiku who just wants to be yours
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It’s a Wednesday night, and you’re sitting on the edge of his bed, your back against the headboard, scrolling through your phone. Oliver’s in the bathroom, the sound of water running as he gets ready to join you.
You hear the bathroom door creak open, and you force yourself not to look up. You already know what he’ll look like—after all, hooking up has become more than just a weekly occurrence. Wet hair, half his shirt off, that mischievous smile playing at his lips.
You’re halfway through tugging your hoodie over your head when he says it.
“You ever think about not seeing other people?”
You stop, fabric caught around your elbows, heart stuttering like a missed step on the stairs.
“What?” you ask, laughing, because that’s the only thing you know how to do around him when things get too real. “Since when do you care about stuff like that?”
Oliver leans back against the pillows, arms folded behind his head like this conversation isn’t threatening to blow everything up. Like he’s just thinking out loud. Like he doesn’t know what this sounds like.
“Dunno,” he says lazily, heterochrome eyes flicking over to you. “Guess it’s just been a while since I hooked up with anyone else.”
You force his hoodie down over your hips, turning to face him. “That’s not what this was supposed to be.”
“I know.”
“And you’re the one who made it clear—no strings. No drama.”
“I know,” he repeats, quieter.
There’s a long pause. You busy yourself with finding your socks on the floor, because looking at him feels dangerous right now. You’re already too comfortable in his bed, too used to the smell of his body wash lingering on your skin. Too used to waking up tangled in sheets that aren’t yours.
Oliver Aiku—confident, a heartbreaker, and reckless—is exactly the type of guy you don’t fall for.
You met at a party, not a meet-cute. You slept together before you even exchanged last names. And somehow, that turned into “you up?” texts, shared post-practice smoothies, him memorizing how you take your coffee. All under the unspoken agreement that this wasn’t anything more than convenient. Comfortable. Fun.
“Look, I’m not trying to ruin anything,” he says after a beat, voice a little more cautious now. “Just thought I’d be honest.”
Honest. Funny. Honesty from a guy who’s rumored to have ghosted at least three girls on campus in the last semester alone. You’d heard the stories. You weren’t blind.
And you never let yourself forget: you were just the next one in line.
“I don’t want to do this with you,” you say quietly, not looking at him.
“Do what?”
“Pretend like this could be something more than hooking up. That’s not who you are, Aiku.”
He sits up a little straighter at the sound of his last name. You only call him that when you’re annoyed. Or scared. Usually both.
He moves toward you slowly, carefully, like you might bolt. He stops just in front of you, hands at his sides, not touching. Not yet.
“Do you really think I’d spend this much time with someone I didn’t care about?” he asks. “You think I’d go to your research showcase, or memorize your exam schedule so I don’t bug you the night before, or delete my apps months ago—just for a hookup?”
Your heart stutters in your chest. You want to pull away. You want to tell him that this is supposed to be nothing more than a distraction. That this—whatever this is—was never supposed to go beyond the physical.
But you don’t. Instead, you pull your leg back, creating space between the two of you. You want to say something—anything—to make it stop. To push him back into the safe, familiar routine you’ve built.
You turn. “Oliver. You’re you. You flirt with waitresses in front of me.”
“Not lately.”
“You smile at every girl like you already know what she sounds like moaning.”
He winces, like your words sting. Maybe they do. He hides it fast.
“I don’t do that with you.”
Exactly.
That’s the problem.
Because somehow, somewhere along the line, he stopped treating you like a hookup. You didn’t notice it at first. Not when he lingered after sex. Not when he asked about your classes. Not even when he started showing up at your study spots, silently keeping you company until 2 a.m.
You only noticed when it felt harder to leave.
“You’re just bored,” you mutter. “You like the chase.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Then what is it?”
He goes quiet. For a moment, you think he’ll shrug it off—go back to playing it cool. That’s what you’ve both been good at.
But instead, he says, “I think about you. A lot.”
You blink.
“When you’re not around,” he continues, quieter now, “I catch myself looking for you. Like, wondering if you're gonna show up to the quad in my stupidly oversized hoodie, or if you’re gonna skip your 10 a.m. like you always do when it rains.”
You bite your lip, guilt already starting to crawl up your spine. But you can’t let him see it. You can’t let him know how much it hurts to even think about letting someone get close to you again.
You shake your head. “But this is what you’ve always done, right? Hook up, move on. That’s how it works,” you say, trying to keep your tone light, like it’s no big deal.
He laughs, but it’s not his usual carefree laugh. It’s bitter. “You think that’s how I want it? That’s what I used to do, yeah. But you—” He stops himself, exhaling slowly. “You’re different.”
You shake your head, trying to mask the tightening in your chest. “I’m not. I’m really not. I’m just a girl you happen to sleep with.”
Oliver’s face falls, and for a moment, you almost feel guilty for pushing him away. But then you remember the countless times you’ve been burned by guys just like him—guys who seem perfect until they don’t care enough to stick around.
You can’t let that happen again.
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bu3ck3r · 2 days ago
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tied together — part 4
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
a/n: let’s see if y’all gonna like it ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
tied together – masterlist
paige’s pov:
paige wasn’t even pretending to focus on film anymore.
her laptop was open, paused on a frame showing south carolina’s transition set — azzi at the top of the key, flicking the ball to the wing — but she hadn’t hit play again in ten minutes.
she was staring.
staring at azzi’s hands.
the way she dribbled, how fluid and controlled it was. staring at the way her shoulders shifted just before she exploded into motion.
and staring at her face — that locked-in, razor-sharp expression paige knew better than anyone.
azzi looked good.
too good.
paige flopped onto her bed, groaned, and dragged her hands down her face.
she was in trouble.
because watching game film wasn’t just watching game film anymore. it was watching her.
the girl who made her stupid. the girl she loved.
and the girl she might have to play against in a few days.
she zoomed in on the bench footage, pausing at moments where azzi smiled or tapped her fingers on her knee in that way she always does when she’s focused.
she doesn’t even realize nika’s behind her until she hears the door click.
nika walked in, saw the paused screen, raised an eyebrow. “you’re literally down bad.”
paige laughed. “say it louder, maybe the hallway didn’t hear you.”
nika smiled. “so when are you telling everyone?”
“about what?” paige teases.
nika just gave her a look. “you said it. i know you did. you look different.”
paige’s smile faded a little. “i don’t know when. or how. i don’t want it to blow up in her face.”
nika nodded. “but you’re not gonna keep her in the dark forever, right?”
“no,” paige said quietly. “not anymore.”
her phone buzzed on her chest.
you stalking me again or are you just bad at film study?
paige smiled without meaning to.
maybe both. can’t confirm.
you’re predictable.
you’re distracting.
you love it.
paige stared at that last message a beat too long.
her chest ached. and swelled.
she typed.
i love you.
no hesitation.
a second passed.
then two.
then—
i love you too. i miss you.
paige’s throat went tight. she set her phone down for a second like it was hot to the touch.
she missed her, too.
missed her voice, her laugh, her legs tangled with hers under the blanket. missed falling asleep to the sound of azzi’s breathing. missed knowing she was close enough to reach out and touch.
later azzi called.
in her comfiest hoodie, curled in her bed while paige talked about practice, her upcoming media day, and how she nearly airballed a three because she was thinking about azzi’s smile like a dumbass.
azzi laughed, soft and low. “you’re literally obsessed with me.”
paige leaned closer to the screen. “don’t act like you’re not eating it up.”
“maybe i am,” azzi shrugged, trying to play it cool, but her cheeks turned pink.
after their facetime ended azzi was sitting on the floor in her bathroom with her back against the wall and her knees pulled to her chest, phone glowing in her palm.
she kept rereading paige’s message.
she never got tired of it.
she never stopped needing it.
god, she was in deep.
and she wasn’t even trying to climb out.
─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────
their conversations lately had changed.
it wasn’t just teasing anymore — though there was still plenty of that.
now, everything felt more like… home.
azzi you iced today?
yes mother.
okay rude. but also hot.
you’re so obsessed with me p.
correct.
not denying it?
i literally watch your clips before bed. i’m cooked.
azzi laughed out loud, alone in her room.
god, she wanted to be anywhere else.
more specifically — in paige’s bed. mouth on hers. hands under her shirt.
she swallowed hard and texted again.
i want to hear your voice.
azzi lay on her side, headphones in, staring at paige’s sleepy face on her screen.
paige had one arm tucked under her head, hoodie pulled half over her mouth, hair messy and eyes soft.
“you look like you haven’t slept in a week,” azzi whispered.
“i haven’t,” paige said. “you ruined me.”
azzi grinned. “yeah?”
paige nodded, slow.
“in like… every possible way.” she added, voice soft.
paige didn’t even blink.
“i love you.”
azzi smiled.
“i love you too.”
the facetime call went quiet for a second.
just their breathing.
the sound of someone turning over in the hallway outside paige’s dorm.
“i hate this,” paige whispered eventually. “all the waiting. all the pretending.”
azzi’s voice was quiet. “pretending?”
“that we’re not gonna be on opposite sides of the court in a week.”
azzi didn’t answer.
paige stared at the screen. azzi was blinking at the ceiling, lips slightly parted, breathing like she was trying to stay calm.
finally, azzi said, “we don’t have to pretend. we just have to hold on.”
“to what?”
“to this. you and me.”
azzi’s pov:
practice was brutal.
not only physically, but emotionally.
coach kept shouting about matchups, about tempo, about intensity.
and every time someone mentioned uconn, someone mentioned her.
“you’ll need to pressure bueckers early. don’t let her get hot.”
“she likes to pass when she feels you on her hip. force the drive.”
azzi just nodded. took the notes. nodded again.
but inside, she was breaking.
because yes — she’d defend paige if it came to it.
she’d lock in. she’d play her game.
but she didn’t know if she could do it without shattering something between them.
paige’s pov:
she couldn’t sleep.
she tried.
turned her pillow over five times. opened and closed tiktok.
scrolled her texts with azzi until her eyes blurred.
nothing helped.
so she sent a voice note.
“i’m not okay. i just keep thinking about you. about how close we are to playing each other. and how stupid in love with you i am.”
seconds later, azzi replied with one of her own.
“sometimes i love you more than i love the game. even though i need the game. that’s how bad it is.”
paige smiled through tears.
“you’re everything to me.”
azzi’s pov:
it was the day before the game. everything had slowed down.
there was still noise — interviews, practice drills, coaches shouting — but none of it got through.
azzi walked through it like a ghost.
the truth had finally settled in: if both teams won tomorrow, they’d meet in the final four.
she’d have to guard paige.
she’d have to foul her. body her up. get in her head.
and she hated it.
because paige was already in her heart — and that space wasn’t built for battles.
─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────
azzi stared at the ceiling in the dark, airpods in, trying not to breathe too loud as paige’s voice whispered through the phone.
“…you still there?”
azzi smiled.
“always.”
paige sighed on the other end, soft and broken. “tell me something good.”
azzi shifted onto her side.
“i stole your t shirt and wore it under my practice jersey today.”
paige laughed — low and breathy.
“for real?”
“smelled like you,” azzi whispered. “made me feel better.”
“i love you,” paige said.
azzi closed her eyes.
“i love you more.”
“no, i—” paige stopped. “i love you like… it scares me. like i don’t even know who i am without you anymore.”
azzi’s throat tightened.
“i don’t want to find out,” she whispered.
paige had never been in love like this.
the kind that felt like panic and comfort in the same breath. the kind that lived in her fingertips and her ribs and her throat when she said azzi’s name.
she loved her so much it hurt.
and now she had to go play against her.
or try to.
they were both lying in bed, half-asleep, faces lit by the soft glow of their screens.
paige reached toward her camera like she could touch her.
azzi did the same.
“do you think we’ll be okay after this?” paige whispered.
azzi blinked slowly.
“i think we’re too stubborn not to be.”
paige smiled.
“you’re really it for me,” she said.
azzi’s eyes filled.
“you too.”
─────────── ౨ৎ ──────────
azzi’s pov:
the arena was massive.
lights everywhere. cameras already tracking them in warmups.
azzi shot around, going through the motions — but her eyes kept drifting.
she found paige easily, across the court, uconn blue and white, warm-up shirt tugged up to her elbows.
focused. beautiful. unreachable.
until she looked up.
their eyes met.
for one second, the entire world dropped out.
no crowd. no pressure.
just her. just paige.
and then paige mouthed something, so small only azzi could see.
“i love you.”
azzi’s heart cracked wide open.
she mouthed it back.
paige’s pov:
tunnel before tip-off.
she felt azzi before she saw her.
that weird magnetic tug that always happened — like gravity tilted slightly toward her when they were in the same building.
they passed in the tunnel, both walking to their benches.
azzi brushed her fingers against paige’s as they crossed.
paige didn’t look. just whispered:
“good luck.”
azzi whispered back:
“you too. come find me after.”
then they were gone — swallowed up by lights and screaming fans.
and the ball was tossed into the air.
azzi’s pov:
azzi found her before the chaos hit.
before the arena lights dimmed and the anthem blared and the crowd swallowed them whole, she took a risk.
snuck into the side tunnel outside the locker rooms, hoodie pulled low, headphones around her neck.
and there she was.
paige.
leaning against the concrete wall, arms crossed, like she was counting down.
she looked up the second azzi turned the corner.
didn’t say a word. just smiled.
azzi walked straight into her, wrapped her fingers around her, and kissed her.
it wasn’t soft. it wasn’t sweet.
it was desperate.
a second to breathe before they couldn’t anymore.
paige kissed her back, rougher than usual, hands on her waist, pulling her in like she didn’t care who might turn the corner and see.
when they finally pulled apart, azzi pressed her forehead to paige’s and whispered, “play your game.”
paige smiled. “you play yours.”
then, softer: “good luck.”
azzi smirked.
“you’ll need it.”
paige rolled her eyes but didn’t step back.
“i love you,” she whispered.
azzi said it right back. didn’t even think.
then they disappeared in opposite directions.
paige couldn’t get her heartbeat under control during warmups.
not because of the crowd or the cameras.
because azzi was on the other side of the court, stretching with her team like she didn’t just kiss paige breathless ten minutes ago in a tunnel that smelled like adrenaline.
uconn jogged through layup lines. paige moved on instinct.
she couldn’t focus.
azzi looked locked in.
like she’d flipped the switch.
and that made paige grin.
because this was the only way they knew how to love each other.
all in. no holding back. even when they were going head-to-head.
azzi’s pov:
hands on knees, braids tight, crowd blurring into noise — she focused on the ball, the whistle, the first possession.
but then paige jogged by her.
and looked.
just a flick of the eyes. a half-smirk.
azzi’s stomach flipped.
she smacked her palms together, bent her knees, and muttered, “let’s play.”
the first few minutes were chaos.
fast breaks. missed shots. sloppy fouls.
but uconn got into rhythm quick — and paige hit her first jumper off a screen.
nothing but net.
and paige didn’t look at azzi after the shot. didn’t need to.
she felt her watching.
two minutes later, azzi checked in.
and walked straight to paige.
they didn’t speak.
just locked eyes as they matched up — azzi on defense, paige on the ball.
paige grinned. “you ready?”
azzi raised an eyebrow. “always.”
paige was quick.
but azzi had studied her.
watched hours of film. knew her favorite spots. her hesitation move. the way she looked down for half a second before pulling up.
so when paige tried to get by her — azzi slid right with her and stripped the ball clean.
fast break. easy two.
no celebration. just a glance.
paige scowled, then smiled.
“okay,” she muttered. “that’s how we’re playing?”
azzi shrugged. “love you.”
paige deadpanned. “not right now you don’t.”
paige’s pov:
halftime – uconn 39, sc 36
she had only 9 points. and azzi had picked her pocket twice.
paige was pissed.
not at her — at herself. but also… maybe a little at her.
because azzi guarding her was like being studied and kissed and smothered all at once.
it was infuriating. and kind of hot.
in the locker room, she barely listened to geno’s breakdown.
all she could think was: i need to score. i need to show her i’m still me.
at second half paige came out aggressive.
first two possessions — mid-range pull-up, then a driving layup.
azzi cursed under her breath.
but it didn’t throw her.
she clamped down harder. got physical. body-to-body on every screen.
they bumped hips. shoulders. chests.
it was borderline inappropriate.
and absolutely electric.
in the final minutes uconn pulled ahead late.
azzi fouled her on a drive, hand slipping down her waist as they collided.
paige hit the floor, let out a breath, then looked up.
azzi stood over her, hands on her knees.
“you good?” she asked.
paige grinned, breathless.
“you touching me like that in front of thousands?”
azzi laughed. “you liked it.”
paige stood, got the free throws, and brought her total to 15.
the last shot of the game was a buzzer beater by paige’s teammate.
uconn won.
but paige didn’t celebrate.
she looked across the court.
azzi was bent over at the waist, catching her breath, jaw clenched.
azzi’s pov:
she held it together in the handshake line.
slapped backs. nodded at reporters. smiled when she didn’t mean it.
when she reached paige, she hesitated for half a second.
then they touched palms. quick. impersonal.
but paige’s fingers brushed hers for just a second longer than they should’ve.
azzi looked up.
and paige mouthed, “text you.”
during the press conference paige smiled through almost every question.
talked about teamwork. adjustments.
no one asked about azzi.
but paige was thinking about her with every breath.
the second the media let her go, she pulled out her phone and texted azzi.
can we meet? just us. somewhere quiet.
azzi’s pov:
she hadn’t changed out of her uniform yet.
just peeled off her jersey and sat in the locker room with her knees pulled to her chest, headphones in, face blank.
she was proud. she was devastated.
aliyah looked at her.
“hey. you okay?”
azzi nodded.
“you sure?”
azzi didn’t look up. “yeah, just exhausted.”
aliyah hesitated, then stepped back.
as soon as the door shut, her phone buzzed in her lap.
can we meet? just us. somewhere quiet.
azzi stared at the message.
she didn’t answer right away.
she just got up, grabbed her hoodie, and left.
paige was already there, sitting on a low metal railing, hoodie up, legs swinging. she looked up when she heard azzi’s steps echo on the concrete.
neither of them spoke for a second.
then paige stood, walked over, and stopped a foot in front of her.
“you good?” she asked quietly.
azzi nodded. “you?”
“yeah.”
azzi stared at her.
“fifteen points,” she said, mouth twitching.
paige rolled her eyes. “wow. straight to that.”
“i mean…” azzi stepped closer, eyes shining. “you talked so much and couldn’t even hit twenty?”
paige’s smile was crooked. “you were all over me.”
“you saying i rattled you?”
“i’m saying…” paige leaned in, mouth brushing azzi’s ear, “you looked hot when you bodied me on the baseline. kind of unfair, honestly.”
azzi laughed, breathless. “you’re sick.”
paige shrugged. “maybe a little.”
azzi went quiet.
then: “that’s not a joke to me.”
paige stepped back just enough to look her in the eyes.
“it’s not a joke to me either.”
a long beat.
“what happened out there…” azzi said slowly. “it was just basketball. but it’s not us.”
paige nodded. “it’s just basketball.”
azzi reached for her hand. laced their fingers. “but this?”
paige squeezed back. “this is everything else.”
azzi didn’t remember who leaned in first.
maybe it didn’t matter.
all she knew was paige’s mouth was on hers, and she felt like she could finally breathe again.
it started soft — but didn’t stay that way.
paige pressed her back to the wall, hands on azzi’s hips, fingers slipping under her hoodie. azzi gasped into her mouth, then kissed her harder.
azzi’s hands gripped the front of paige’s hoodie, dragging her closer.
paige whispered against her neck, “still mad i didn’t score more?”
azzi moaned, quiet and low.
“not really,” she breathed. “i was kinda busy watching you run your mouth and look good doing it.”
paige smirked, hand sliding under the hem of azzi’s shirt, brushing her stomach.
“you like the attitude?”
azzi pulled her down again. “i love all of it.”
the kiss deepened.
fingers tangled in hair. lips moving fast. hot. desperate.
paige whispered between breaths:
“i love you so much.”
“you played so good baby.”
they didn’t go all the way — not here, not now. but it was close.
hands on bare skin. mouths pressed tight. the promise of later in every touch.
azzi rested her forehead on paige’s.
“don’t disappear again,” she said.
paige opened her eyes.
“i’m not going anywhere.”
she kissed her again — slow this time. soft. like she was thanking her for something neither of them could say out loud yet.
they stayed like that for a while.
just holding each other.
letting the rest of the world wait.
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dudududuumaxverstappen · 3 days ago
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saw that you were asking for requests. lando or the drivers you write for x prima ballerina gf blurbs?
Yay my first request, thank you so much forsending this in❤️
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Ship: Formula One Drivers x Reader
Warnings: none
Featuring: Lando, Lewis, Max, Charles, George
LANDO
This man is absolutely smitten the first time he sees you dance. He stumbles upon one of your videos on instagram. The next hour (or longer) he checks out your whole page and watches each one of your videos, accidentally liking one from three years ago. That‘s funnily how you start talking and the beginning of your relationship.
Lando is super supportive, coming to all your shows, helping you practice, helping you with your shoes and massaging your feet after a long day.
He is also your biggest fan, cheering the loudest for you whenever you win a competition.
While he is one to hate himself for every loss, he would never allow you that, always telling you that it was just a small mistake, that you are amazing and will do amazing again.
LEWIS
Secretly admires you at first. You meet at an event where you and a few colleagues give a performance and he falls immediately, though not revealing it at first.
Lewis understands it very well how much time and effort you pour into every performance and supports you always. He will always attend your shows, and if he can’t he will always make sure he can (secretly) watch a livestream.
He would also totally give you feet, back and neck massages after long training days/weeks and just whenever you need them.
Lewis is a great listener and always offers support and advice when you need help with choreographies or how to prepare for a show, sitting down with you to plan each step.
CHARLES
He worships the ground you dance upon. He is you biggest support and won’t hold back from posting all your performances on his instagram. “My belle femme!”/“My beautiful wife!”
While he might not cheer the loudest, because he‘s more of a calm nature, he still is your greatest supporter, always clapping the longest and telling you over and over again how amazing you are and how beautiful you look.
He is immensely proud to call you his wife, having a picture of you dancing in his wallet and another one saved as his phone background.
He would also tell his teammates about your shows, and watch them online when he has no time to attend them. And yes, he will totally watch the shows in the paddock right before or after races. And then call you to congratulate you or tell you that he truly is the luckiest man alive.
MAX
Max is super shy to talk to you at first because he‘s super impressed by your talent, your beauty, and worried that you might not even want to talk to him.
But since you two have been secretly admiring one another, the conversation, though a little nervous and shy at first, soon develops into something amazing.
He supports you every step of the way, and will try to come to all your shows. He also totally has a picture of you dancing as his wallpaper.
Max understands the pressure in your area so well, he knows what it is like when you always have to perform, when you always have to do better than the time before, and how much weight rests upon your shoulders.
So, when times are really tough, two will always remind each other what really matters in life, spending time with loved ones — with each other.
You will often lie in bed together, talking about your dreams and the future while cuddling, and laughing and snacking chocolate and other sweets.
GEORGE
He is so in love. And if I say SO in love I mean it. He is your biggest fanboy, your greatest supporter and so proud to have a partner like you.
He will constantly show his friends and colleagues videos of you dancing, boasting about having the best girlfriend while admiring you.
George will try his best to come to all your performances, and well, what can I say when you talk to him about wanting to open your own dance studio, he will be your biggest supporter in making your dream come true.
He will, despite having a lot of stress and work for formula one, help you with everything, go through all the organisational things with you, will take the stress from you, and give you massages all the time.
Additionally, whenever he tells you how proud he is of you, a big smile will light up his face and he will kiss your forehead.
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sthilarions · 2 days ago
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I’ve seen a few fics wherein, due to various misunderstandings, Charles thinks (wrongly) that Edwin is being/continuing to be touch-averse after they’re together and doesn’t want hugs or kisses. And decides that that’s okay, and he’ll just happily take whatever Edwin wants to give him, and love him however he is. Then, of course, the misunderstanding is resolved, and there are many hugs and kisses.
But I’m kind of interested in the concept of it not being a misunderstanding. Because if 35 years of constant day and night companionship don’t make you completely comfortable with someone’s touch, adding romance to the mix isn’t going to magically change that, you know? Like, for me, I’m touch-averse to at least some extent with everyone on the planet except my brother, and that includes my partner whom I have known for about a decade, whom I love very very much, and whom, on some levels, I love touching.
Because the touch-aversion exceptions don’t really care what label is on your relationship, or even how much you love someone, or even-even how much some parts of your brain like touching them. That’s barely a factor, really, any of those. For me, anyway, if those decades of familiarity and safety and desensitization won’t do it, nothing further will.
So I’m really interested in the idea of an Edwin who’s been kissed, now, but would still answer “Do you miss kissing?” in the negative, just a more informed and confident negative now. Who loves hugging Charles but only sometimes, only when his brain is in the right place and skin and pressure don’t make him feel like electricity’s running painfully through his veins.
And him and Charles learning how to negotiate that. What touches give Charles (and Edwin, because touch-aversion does not necessarily rule out touch-starvation) what he needs without taking from Edwin something it hurts to give. Kisses on each other’s hands, perhaps, instead of the invasive face-to-face sensitive-skin business. Sitting facing opposite directions leaned up against each other, like they’re each other’s backrests.
Two of Edwin’s fingers carefully resting against Charles’s knee, on days when any more would ache, for hours at a time, just that tiny connecting contact but so long and so tender it holds them together as strongly as joined handcuffs. Charles’s head on Edwin’s lap but never the other way around; Edwin’s head on Charles’s shoulder but never the other way around.
Hugs that squeeze hard, never a light half-hug, but also never a trapping one. A hand signal for when Edwin’s brain is willing to do hugs, that tends to lead to Charles diving into his arms no matter the external situation and who’s present, and conversely a signal for when hugs would be too unpleasant to take.
Edwin would be willing to do whatever Charles wanted, of course. If Charles wanted him to spend half his day with Charles’s tongue down his throat and the other half with Charles wrapped around him like an octopus, he would, without hesitation or complaint. He’d probably take the constant ache and electricity under his skin and screaming static inside his head out on clients and Crystal and any bad guy on the wrong end of his casting hand, but he’d not only do it, he’d do his damndest to keep Charles from knowing what it cost.
But Charles knows him far too well, for that. He doesn’t know words like “touch-averse”, sure, but he can certainly notice that a light brush down Edwin’s arm when they’re in a loud room puts more visible pain on Edwin’s face than a high-powered torture hex does, and adjust accordingly.
So they find their little touches, and their big touches, where they can, where they don’t hurt either of them. And Edwin sits on the sofa, with Charles down on the floor leaning back against it, one of Edwin’s hands tangled in Charles’s curls, one-way safe touch, and, fuck. Both of them are pretty sure they’ve never felt anything better in their entire existence.
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Text
Lean On Me (Part 5/7)
Pairing: Dr Michael 'Robby" Robinavitch x younger! Langdon's little sister! reader
A conversation that needs to be had, is had....
Warnings: casual drinking, work in a strip club, general lack of clothing in the workplace slow burn
(I know nothing about working in a strip club, so this is all based off media representations, sorry for any mistakes)
part four / part six
taglist: @dayswithoutcoffee, @hagarsays, @4ishere, @omgbrianab, antisocialfiore, eugene-emt-roe
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“Michael what the fuck!” you hiss, ripping your arm from his grasp as soon as the door slammed shut.
You clock your colleague Holly marching towards you, with a baseball bat raised high.
“It's okay! He’s my-”
“Boyfriend?”
“Friend!” 
Holly puts the bat down and smiles at Michael, who's still glaring at you. He runs his hands through his hair, and his breathing is heavy. You know whatever conversation that was about to happen could not happen in the change rooms. 
“Holly, can you watch my section for a minute,” you say a lot calmer than you feel, “I’m going to take Dog and him,” pointing at Michael, “outside for some air.”
Holly agrees because of course she does. You two have been at this club for years together, she was a single mum of two, who's been caught dancing by many ex-boyfriends, she knew what conversation was about to be had. 
Not that Michael is your boyfriend.
Dog is sitting patiently under one of the makeup desks, her tail wagging as she watches you pick up her lead.
“You bring your dog to this place.”
It's the first words Michael has said all evening and you turn to him, all fake smiles gone.
“Of course I do! I work 10 hour shifts some days, I can’t leave a dog in Frank's apartment for half the day!”
Michael says nothing, but ever the gentleman, he holds open the backroom door for you as you and Dog wander into the alley way.
The back alley behind the bar is as safe as any place can be in Pittsburgh after dark, it has two large gates on either end and only staff at the club know the combinations to the locks. It was where you have spent a lot of time either chain smoking when you were young, or internally screaming as you got older. 
You let Dog off the lead, who trots off to do her business and turn to look at Michael, who was looking around the alley, his brows raised. You could still feel the anger coming off him.
“So?” you start, crossing your arms until you realise all that's done is press your tits up and make them even more obvious to the red faced doctor.
“You’re a stripper.”
“Waitress technically- I lost my spot on the stage when I went to Europe.”
“Why?”
“Why did I lose my spot or why am I here?”
He rolled his eyes, “Why are you here?”
“Oh I just love getting my breasts out for random strangers.” the sarcasm drips from your mouth, you can’t help it.
“Sweethea-”
“No Sweetheart! No! You can’t just walk into a stripclub, then get mad when a woman has her tits out!” 
“I didn’t want to come to a strip club.” he said weakly, his own argument falling flat.
“Oh your old mate Jack just pulled you in here under protest?”
“Well-”
“What are you really mad about, Dr Robinavitch?” he flinches at the formal name and you can’t help but smirk.
“Why are you here?”
“Money.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously, I make more here in one night than I would in a week somewhere else. It's good, fast money!”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you need to make fast money?”
The question has you laughing, maybe not with humour but with amusement. Dog wanders off as you drop her lead to gather yourself.
“Why? Why do I need money? Oh I don’t know, maybe because my big brother is in rehab? Or because my parents are in a facility that has exorbitant bills their pension doesn’t cover? Rent? Vet bills? I’ve maxed out four credit cards since I have gotten back, so those need to be paid off as well? How else should I make my money, Dr Robinavitch?”
He’s silent, and the rage has simmered behind his eyes but his hands flexed between open and fists as if trying to ground himself.
“What about your degree?” he said, each word a challenge.
“What degree?” you huff, “I dropped out of school at fifteen.” 
The rage rose again as he took in your words.
“What?”
You move to lean against the wall of the club, it was cool (and a little gross) against your exposed skin.
“My dads a high functioning alcoholic and my mum- my mum is a self centred bitch who only cares about two things, my dad and Frank.I was an unhappy accident.” You close your eyes, you haven’t admitted any of this to anyone, ever, “Dad lost his job when I was fourteen, Frank was fifteen, and the bills started the pile up. Sacrifices had to be made, and that included my dance classes which I was mad about but I was told by my mother, young ladies do not complain. Then dad got a new job and it was okay for a few months but he hurt himself and ended up on workers comp. Then the bills piled up again and mum sat me down and told me that I needed to pull my weight around the house.”
“What about Frank?”
“Frank was top of his class in everything, he was on the football team and looking at a scholarship to any college he wanted. I was not doing so well in any of my classes, which got worse when I started working at the local diner every night. We chatted about it but he didn’t want to drop out of school so it was decided, I would.”
“That's not fair.” Michael said and when you opened your eyes he was in front of you, his hands on your face, tilting your head up so you could look him in the eye.
“You shouldn’t have been saddled with that.” 
You lean into his touch, and feel his breath on your face. It would take only a moment to breach the distance between you. You could almost taste him on your lips as you look him in his eyes.
The anger is still there, seething behind the golden brown colour but you can see something else there as he looks from your eyes to your lips. 
You need to break the moment before you kiss him in the alley.
It was a cliché to kiss someone outside of the club in this alley, plus your boss had cameras rigged out here 'for your safety'.
“But I was. I left school and started odd jobs, waitressing, working at a grocery store, I was even a cleaner at your hospital for a few months. But nothing was covering all the house repayments, Frank's textbooks or my mum's spending habits.”
Michael was now shaking his head, his thumb gently grazing your cheek.
“I know Frank, he’s an ass but he wouldn’t have let you pay for everything.”
“My folks didn’t tell him everything, and I didn’t want him to know. He couldn’t be distracted, he had a plan and a path and it was my job to keep him on it.” You didn’t sound bitter, the words could have been bitter. Others might have thought you would be bitter, but you weren’t, not at Frank. 
He had always been the kid who was going to make it.
You were just the little sister that was going to help him get there.
“I got a job here just before my sixteenth birthday, started as a dish-bitch, worked my way up to dancing by the time I was seventeen.”
“Seventeen?”
The grip on your cheek is tighter, as you watch him school his emotions, he got a little crease between his brows that looks like a ‘v’ as you watch him swallow a further remark.
“Yep- I had a fake ID in case the cops ever came in but they never did, at least not to raid us.” you joke but the brow on Michaels brow just got deeper, “No one cared really, I had boobs, and ass and was willing to work every night. So I did, I paid off my parents house, I covered Frank's textbooks, the excess of his college living costs and got him the best birthday and christmas presents. They never asked where the money came from, maybe they never cared enough to, I think Frank might have an idea but he never brought it up.”
Michael pulls away slightly, still in your personal bubble but no longer touching you. You try not to verbalise a whine as you try to lean back into his touch.
“You made enough to pay off your parents house.” A statement not a question.
You could tell Michael was processing, his hands were now in his pockets and his entire body language had changed, he stood taller, ridged as he blinked slowly. He walked away from you, suddenly on the other side of the alley.
“Michael?”
“You paid off your parents' house, and Frank's bills, just by dancing?” There was something under those words, an accusation you couldn’t quite place. Somehow during your confession he had picked up something that he couldn’t get through.
“Yes.” Your voice was small, and you realised your hands were shaking. You had just poured your whole truth out to this man and while you hadn’t expected open arms, his response had you thrown.
“You managed to pay off your parents' house, just by dancing on that stage?”
There it was, the judgement and the disgust. 
Michael was an understanding Doctor, a person who would advocate for those less fortunate.
But all people have their own hang ups, the thing they would never be able to look past.
And you just found his.
“Stripping is not prostitution.” You say through gritted teeth.
“I didn’t say that-”
“You didn’t have to! I heard it in your voice!”
“I didn’t-”
You want to cry, the tears are there but you won’t cry in front of him, how had you gone from flirting over pancakes to being judged in a back alley.
“We are done here, have a lovely rest of your evening, Dr Robinavitch.”
You push past time, snapping for Dog to follow you. She does, stopping only for a moment to sniff Michaels pant leg before trotting back inside, excited to see who was backstage and ready to give her cuddles.
“Why did you come back to it?” 
You look behind you, “What?”
“When you came home, why did you come back here?”
You sigh and just shake your head.
“Because Frank needed me.” You admit before closing the door and returning to your shift.
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Michael’s table of friends are still there when you come back, your fake smile plastered wide on your face.
You couldn’t wait until the club closed and you could go home and cry into your pillow.
But there were still four hours left.
Michael returned to the table a few moments after you, but left almost immediately, making his excuses to the bachelor and Jack. You stayed well away until you saw Michael leave, letting Holly and Joe fill any drink orders.
Jack's eyes stay fixed on you for moments after Michael has gone, tracking your every movement.
You smiled back at him, daring him to say anything. You could do with a fight tonight you thought to yourself as you passed out wings, and whiskey glasses to another table that had come in. 
But he’s gone after you pick yourself up off a table, belly button still wet from a body shot.
You look around for him or any of Michaels friends as you tuck the $100 bill into your purse, but the table was empty, bar their finished glasses and a tip.
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The liquor was flowing at almost every table by the time 2am rolled by, and Holly had just taken her place on stage. You wanted to laugh as she sent you a wink and a kiss mid-dip.
Joe is still behind the bar but he stops what he's doing as you shuffle up, exhaustion and sticky heels wearing you down.
“You okay?”
You laugh and give him a gentle push, “I think that's the third time you’ve asked me that tonight.”
He shrugs and pushes you back, “You spend half your life looking after everyone else. Someones gotta check in.”
After the conversation with Michael and the rollercoaster the last few weeks have been you can’t help but hug the older man. Pulling him in and clinging to him as you whisper your thanks. You had known Joe since you were fifteen, he had stood behind you for your first week, snapping the fingers of anyone who tried to touch you while you washed dishes in the ugliest frumpiest clothes he could talk the boss into letting you wear. 
“I think the crush is over before it even began.” You admitted as you pulled away, grabbing shot glasses for the table closest to the stage. They wanted to do tequila shots with Holly, so you poured four tequila shots for the guests and one shot of water in a ‘special’ sparkly glass for Holly. It wasn’t against the rules to drink during a shift, when someone wants to buy you a drink, but you knew Holly had an early school run the next morning and the last thing she needed was a hangover.
The shift goes on, and you go through the motions. Pouring drinks, folding your tips into your little purse and every so often taking money for a dance.
It was like you somehow ended up on autopilot, just doing everything with a smile on your face and a bounce in your step as your mind continues to just replay your conversation with Michael again and again.
“You managed to pay off your parents' house, just by dancing on that stage?”
He had asked the question again and again, and maybe it was your own insecurity but each time felt heavier and heavier. 
You had paid off your parents' house by dancing on a stage.
You had gotten your brother through college by dancing on a stage.
And you would get him through rehab with lap dances and body shots.
And you were not less than him for doing so.
The bar lights came on as the clock turned to 4am. You hadn’t even noticed the hours pass by, but as one last patron tried to grab your ass you waved goodbye to the stragglers and let out a sigh of relief.
Your feet hurt, and you just need your bed. 
Joe’s changed the music to a remix of ABBA’s greatest hits and you take a moment to remove your heels, enjoying the feel of the trainers you keep in your bag.
You're half way through putting chairs on tables when the front door slams open.
You turn ready to tell whoever was there to go home to their wife when your voice fails you.
“Can we talk?”
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notarmedandnotdangerous · 3 days ago
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+18 mdni! sub!bucky talks to reader in a rude way, and reader teaches him how he should act.
cw: sub!bucky, dom!mean!m!reader (kinda mean but honestly idk), binding bucky's wrists (silk ties), edging, bucky almost cries, whiny, desperate bucky
word count: 2.5k
a/n: i have such an irregular posting schedule .. it's either late at night or at the ass crack of dawn .. i feel like i've been writing a lot these days and they might have a similar-ish style but i still hope u guys enjoy ;;
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you were sitting on the couch, waiting for bucky to get home. this was only his first week as congressman, so he couldn’t afford to fuck up. you were watching a show on the tv, before the front door opened abruptly.
“hey.” bucky leaned against the wall, taking a good look at you.
“hi” you stared at him in confusion. “what?” he looked at you with an intense gaze, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten as desire ignited within him.
“nevermind, just get undressed. i’m not in the mood for conversation right now.” he stated bluntly as his eyes roamed over your body with a mix of lust and need. he stepped closer to you, his erection starting to strain against his suit pants.
“wh- what are you talking about!?” you raised your voice slightly, shocked and flustered by bucky’s words.
“don’t play coy, you know exactly what i want.” bucky said with a sly smile, his hand reaching over to drag a finger down your chest. “unless you’ve got a better idea on how to use your tongue?” oh, he was challenging you now? that’s new.
you clicked your tongue at him, and you could see how his eyes widened in regret almost immediately. he regretted trying to be ‘bold’ as he scrambled to get on his knees to apologise.
“fuck, i- i’m so sorry, prince. i don’t know what’s going on with me, please, just, help me..” bucky got on his knees in front of you, it was adorable how hard he tried to apologise to you.
“weren’t you bold just now? with that sharp fucking tongue of yours?” you pressed your foot to his erection, making him start to ramble apologies.
“mm.. m- maybe a little impatient..” bucky muttered, nuzzling his cheek against your knee. “it’s just been so long, i can’t help it..” his hands tentatively reached up to stroke your thighs, seeking permission to proceed. as he looked up at you with pleading eyes, a hint of vulnerability pierced through his cocky persona, exposing his need for you.
“please, i need you, prince.. just- just use me however you want, i’ll make it worth it, please!”
“you could’ve asked nicely from the start, buck. i don’t think i can treat you that nice now.” you grumbled, making bucky’s eyes widen in regret.
“oh god, please- please don’t.. i’m begging you..” he practically whined, his voice cracking with need. his hands grasped onto your thighs, squeezing gently. his face was now mere inches from your erection.
“please, just give me a chance, show me how i’m supposed to treat you..” without waiting for a response, bucky leaned in and parted his lips, as if he was waiting for you to shut him up with your cock.
“that’s so fucking nasty, i can’t believe you actually said that.” you rolled your eyes at him, making him practically whimper in anticipation. “get to the bed, you’d better be undressed by the time i get there.”
bucky scrambled to get on his feet as he tried to get to the bedroom as soon as he could. in a flurry, he stripped off all his clothes, hardly noticing as he flung the articles of clothing all over the room. he leapt into bed just before you came in. you were now met with a completely nude bucky, sprawled out on the bed.
“look.. look what you do to me, prince..” he breathed shakily, reaching down to give his cock a slow stroke. “i’m already so needy for you, please just touch me..”
“oh, so you do listen. see how it isn’t that hard to be obedient, buck? or are you only good when rewards are involved?” you spoke while reaching into the drawers in your closet to pull out silk ties.
“oh- uh.. i listen just fine.. when the reward is as amazing as your touch..” he spoke, a hint of defiance still in your tone. “and yes, orgasms do play a big role, but that’s just because you make me feel too good.. if you wanted to, you could make me beg for it all night and i’d still obey every command you give me..” he boasted, trying to hide the quiver in his voice as he pictured the delicious torture you could inflict on him.
you binded his wrists to the bedpost. he could easily escape, but he chose not to.
“don’t fucking move, i’ll bind your hips to the bed as well, if you do.” you kissed the tip of his cock, teasing him. he whimpered in delight, finally getting some friction on his cock. oh, little did he know, you were planning on edging him.
“oh fuck- mmh.. don’t stop..” a shiver ran down his spine at the sensation of your lips on his sensitive tip. he whimpered, his hips bucking slightly against your mouth as he tried to grind into the pleasurable friction.
“you.. you know i’m close already.. please dont tease me.. i’ll be good” he tried to control his movements, biting his lip as he focused on staying still.
“just- just tell me what you want me to do..” he whined. “i’ll do anything- anything i swear.. just please..” his words were muffled by a moan as your tongue swirled around his tip.
you knew he was close the moment you saw his thighs tremble, so you pulled away with a chuckle, leaving your mouth just close enough to his tip. you breathed out just to tease him and he whined in disappointment, before trying to convince you to let him cum. bucky’s entire body practically jerked forward, eager to chase the pleasure, but the bindings held his hands firmly in place, leaving him at a disadvantage.
“that’s unfair, prince! you started this, so finish it.” he complained, his voice cracking and rising in pitch as he slowly got more and more frustrated. “let me cum, i promise i’ll be so much more fun after..” his struggles only intensified, his thighs clenching and unclenching as he fought the urge to break free and just fuck his cock into your face.
“as if you know anything about being unfair, this is me being reasonable.” you slapped his cheek once, making him wince. “don’t act like you’re not into this, buck.” the sting of the slap sent a jolt through him, and it went straight to his cock.
“it- it hurts.. when you do that..” he whimpered, his voice as quiet as possible as he searched for a hint of mercy in your eyes. “i- i’m not resisting because i want to, i swear.. this is just.. so much h- harder than i thought it would be..” he admitted, his face flushing in embarrassment and arousal.
“can’t we just.. come to some compromise? i- i’ll do something for you.. if you let me cum, please..?” he pleaded. trying to bargain with you to find a way out of your sudden sadistic behaviour, before he lost his mind to the overwhelming pleasure-pain you were feeling.
“don’t bullshit me, buck.” you began to stroke his cock, at a tantalizingly slow pace. this made you lose your train of thought almost immediately. at this point, you were just grateful for any friction at all.
“a-aah.. fuck, please, prince..” he groaned, his words trailing off into incoherent moans as your fingers wrapped around his cock. “dont- please, i can’t take it..” his hips twitched involuntarily, trying to press into your grip for more.
“please, you’re gonna.. mmh.. drive me crazy..” bucky complained, his eyelids fluttering shut as he tried to process the overwhelming stimuli. “just- just let me cum already, god damn it!”
“that’s not possible, handsome. not when you’ve been rude to me.” you watched intently, the moment his eyes rolled back, you slowed down once more. bucky’s reaction was priceless, his hips stuttering as he let out a choked groan.
“you.. you sadist..” he spat through clenched teeth. his whole body was rigid with the effort of holding himself back from cumming as your fingers playfully teased his tip once more. “fucking hell, i- i’m so close..” bucky hissed out.
“don’t- don’t you dare stop.” his thighs clenched as he fought the urge to rut against your touch. he cut himself off immediately, panting heavily as he tried to think of ways to bite back at you. “fuck.. fuck, please just, just let me cum already..”
“don’t you dare cum, buck, or else.” you glared at him, making him snap out of his trance almost immediately as he nodded in response. “good boy, now let’s continue, shall we?” you started to stroke him once more. bucky’s brain was practically mush by now, already fucked out from being edged.
“yes- yes, please.. just- mmh, so good, like that..” bucky started to babble, his words slurred and incoherent as you worked your fingers on him.
“i- i’ll be good, trust me- just, just let me cum.. aagh..” he whimpered. oh god. he whimpered? “c- can’t hold on anymore, prince, p- please.. pretty please..?” before he could finish his sentence, a gush of precum flooded your hand, the warm slickness dripping down your fingers.
“really, buck? pathetic.”
“d- don’t mock me.. i’ll- i’ll do whatever you want, prince, just please..” he pleaded, his hips jerking erratically. his voice was a desperate whiny tone now. “please- i’m begging you.. mmh.. just- make it happen.. aah.. fuck, yes.. ah ah ah, please..” bucky’s entire body trembled as he came, his eyes rolling back as he saw stars in that pretty little head of his.
bucky shuddered through the aftershocks of his orgasm. his body was slick with sweat as stray hairs clung to his forehead. his lungs burned from breathing too heavily.
“f-fuck, prince.. you.. you really know how to ruin a man..” he panted, his voice hoarse from being vocal earlier. “i think i’ll be walking funny tomorrow, but it’s totally worth it..” he spoke with a weak chuckle.
“i know what you are..” you playfully slapped his cock, making his eyes roll back as he moaned in pleasure. “painwhore.”
bucky did in fact walk funny the next day. he blamed it on going too hard in the gym.
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grahamzcracker · 2 days ago
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𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞 | 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐦𝐚𝐧
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i am not the one you want, babe . i am not the one you need .
▸ it ain’t me babe - joan baez
— dating s3 shauna (who is not yet over jackie, but shes trying!)
w.c : 670 / c.w : brief smut at the end (fingering, switch!shauna ??), probably a bit ooc... / request status : open!
a/n: sorry if there’s any grammatical errors—i’m tired as hell but cant sleep 😭 this one's been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute, figured i'd finally start it! (also... my first time writing anything remotely sexual, hope its not too bad)
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sfw
⌗ ever since jackie's death and everything with her baby, shauna obviously hasn't been doing well. thats when you come along.
⌗ you'd been eyeing her for a while, even had a crush on her before the crash, you just never acted on it because you didn't think she'd ever be into you in a million years — she was jackie's, whether she'd admit that or not, and you respected that.
⌗ seeing how much she was hurting after jackie's passing, you took it upon yourself to try and cheer her up. you gave her little handmade gifts here and there, stuck by her side on everything, and just sat in silence with her when she needed company but didn't want to talk. you were fine with not talking, it seemed to be making her happy, and that's all you cared about.
⌗ at first, she didn’t understand what you saw in her. she was mean, aggressive, closed-off… everything you weren’t. but as the days went on, she realized you had no bad intentions and just genuinely liked her, and she stopped trying to push you away.
⌗ things seemed to be going okay for a while, but you couldn't help but notice the way she'd zone out while talking with you, or while you were talking at her, it was practically every conversation — whether she was bored, completely uninterested, or her mind on something/someone else, you didn't know, you just tried to brush it off.
⌗ once she finally let her walls down a bit with you, she started letting you sleep in her hut. she'd never say it out loud, but it helped having someone with her at night. a living, breathing body she could hold onto and seek comfort in. often times at night, when it was just the two of you in your hut, she would either hold you close or rest her head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you ran your fingers through her hair.
⌗ on days she was more stressed than usual, the two of you would go into the woods and sit near the lake, taking comfort in each other's presence. that was all she needed — to simply be near you. her mind sometimes wandered to jackie, wishing she hadn't made the mistakes she did. if she hadn't made them, then maybe it would be jackie sitting next to her, not you.
nsfw
⌗ one day, shauna was in a particularly rough mood, so she seemed out the one thing that made her feel better. you. you were sitting in your now-shared hut, etching something into a piece of bark when shauna came in.
⌗ she looked pissed off, no doubt that it was about mari again, this has been a common occurence lately — practically part of your daily routine at this point — shauna would come in frustrated, expecting you to fix it, which you did every time. she'd give you her signature sad, brown eyes, practically pleading for you to make it all better.
⌗ you'd bring a hand up to cup her face, then she'd slam her lips onto yours. her hands would find your waist, slipping under your top as she kissed you hungrily.
⌗ some days she preferred to take control, others she just wanted to lay back and let you take care of her. this was one of those days. she laid back and panted softly as you pressed gentle kisses to her neck, your fingers making their way into her underwear. as your fingers finally got to work, she let out a low moan, and you swear you heard jackie's name fall from her lips.
"fuck, jackie..." the words were breathless, nearly silent, but you heard them. her hand made it's way into your hair, giving it a slight tug as your fingers plunged in and out of her dripping cunt. "yeah... just like that, baby." she praised softly. feeling her hips buck against your hand, you brought your thumb up to rub her clit, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.
--
a/n again : ok hi i hope the last bit wasnt horrible. im beyond inexperienced. (tmi...?) so.
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valeelavvale · 3 days ago
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Devil
featuring : Lando Norris/reader
summary : (requested by @madelyn2000)
Lando is a big Manchester United Fan, y/n a Liverpool one and the meet each other at the match between your teams
genre : romance
word count : 1207
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Work sucks. 
She couldn't think of anything else as she put on the uniform in the colors of the wrong team—the one she hated and rooted against every single time. 
Yet once again, she had to give in and accept that job in the VIP lounge of Manchester United, right during the match against Liverpool. 
Her team. 
She would be in enemy territory for the whole match, serving champagne to rich people who surely knew less about football than she did and who, in any case, supported the wrong team. 
She slipped on her shoes and looked at herself in the mirror. 
"Congrats, y/n, another great evening ahead," she muttered to herself, tying her hair back and leaving the locker room alongside the other waiters who would be working with her that night. 
The match hadn’t started yet, but there were already quite a few people there—former football legends, athletes of all kinds, wealthy people, entrepreneurs, lots of people with watches that probably cost as much as her house. 
About twenty minutes had passed since kickoff, and she was filling empty glasses with champagne right in front of the glass window overlooking the field when suddenly a roar erupted from the stands. 
**1-0** 
Liverpool had scored. 
"Hell yeah!" she said without even thinking. 
"Excuse me?" a voice sounded beside her. A guy was looking at her, amused, and she recognized him—she had seen him on TV dozens of times: Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver for McLaren. 
"Oops…" y/n said, unable to hide a face that was just a little too comical. 
"I can’t believe it—you’re a snitch!" he laughed, pointing at her. 
"Cut it out," she muttered, lowering her gaze; she didn’t want everyone in there to know. 
Lando chuckled, shaking his head. 
"A red in enemy territory. Well, anyway, that was a terrible goal—don't get used to celebrating. We’ll come back right away." 
"You’d like that…" she said, staring at him. "You guys suck with half your defense injured—unless, as usual, the referee forgets to call all your offsides…" she commented. 
"Says the one who gets penalties gifted for no reason," he shot back, taking a sip of champagne. 
"Let me remind you what happened in the first match—you guys butchered half of our midfield," she retorted stubbornly. 
Lando smiled—what a feisty one. 
"You weren’t here for the first match, though, or I’d remember you—I’d definitely remember you…" he said, looking at her. 
"No, I was there, where the real fun is," she said, pointing at the stands. 
"I know—it’s much more fun over there. But today, the sponsors trapped me here. I’d rather have beer than champagne, if I’m being honest."
"You don’t seem like someone who spends much time in the stands," she said. 
That guy definitely had a watch that cost as much as her house. 
"And how would you know?" he grinned. 
He was about to say something else when a man behind him called for him. He gave her a smile before turning around and shaking hands with very important people. 
-
Later that night, y/n had finished her shift and changed into jeans and her team’s t-shirt. She wanted to sit somewhere and eat something, but there weren’t many places she liked near the stadium. 
"Hey, Liverpool Girl."
A voice made her turn around. Next to a ridiculously expensive car stood Lando—the superstar driver she had exchanged a few words with earlier. 
He smiled and quickly crossed the street to reach her.
"What do you say we ditch the champagne and grab a beer?" he asked, smiling. 
She looked at him, surprised. He was Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver. She was y/n, dressed in jeans and faded Converse. 
She smiled. 
"Sounds great. And, by the way, my name’s y/n," she replied, amused. 
Who was she to turn down such an unexpected invitation? 
I mean, she didn’t know him, but he was famous—the chances of him being a serial killer who would hide her body were pretty low. 
She got in the car, and he started the engine. 
"There aren’t any good places near the stadium. Do you mind if I take you to my favorite pub?" he asked, turning right. 
"Sure, there's really nothing around here I like either," she admitted. 
"Did you enjoy the match?" she asked then, just to say something. 
"Are you asking if I’m mad at you for that foul that didn’t get called?" he grinned. "No, not really."*
Y/n laughed. 
"Keep believing it was a foul," she teased. "You’d better stick to driving because when it comes to football… You don’t seem to know much about it."
They kept exchanging witty remarks until Lando parked in front of a well-known pub. 
He got out and, like a true gentleman, opened the door for her. 
"I’m starving, by the way… Oysters, sushi, caviar… What a disgusting selection of food they had earlier," he commented as he walked in, signaling her to follow him to a table by the window. 
"That stuff creeps me out," y/n agreed. "And on top of that, a job where I can’t even take home the leftovers—working for the worst team in the world!" she laughed. 
"You know, the problem is that you’re ridiculously hot. Otherwise, with everything you say about the Devils, really…" he smiled, looking at her, and y/n couldn’t help but blush. Thankfully, pubs are dark. 
-
It was past three in the morning when they realized the pub had nearly emptied. 
"They’re going to kick us out soon," Lando grinned. 
The thing was, he didn’t want to go home. He had enjoyed talking to her—laughing, teasing each other—too much. It had been amazing. 
"There’s the race at Silverstone next week. Would you like to come?" he asked. 
If they left now and he drove her home, it wouldn’t be so easy to see her again—and he wanted to. 
"To watch the Grand Prix? At Silverstone?" she asked, surprised. 
"Yeah… Of course, you’ll have to give me your number so I can get you the paddock passes," he said with a smirk. 
Y/n tilted her head. 
"Giving you my number just to get a pass for an F1 race… It’s worth it—but only for that, not because I actually want to see a Devil like you again…" she joked, taking his phone and typing in her number. 
"I don’t know if I’ll root for you, though…" she teased. "I have too much fun disagreeing with you."
Lando burst out laughing. 
"Whatever, just come… And don’t get too friendly with the other drivers."
"Oh, no? And why’s that?" y/n laughed. 
He leaned in across the table. 
"Because, trust me, there’s no one more devilish than me," he whispered. 
"We’ll see…" she smiled, holding his gaze. 
Maybe she’d overlook the fact that he supported Manchester United, after all. 
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lampridius · 2 days ago
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hihi can you write sunday, anaxa, and/or aventurine with a really bipolar reader? i'm finally manic again after being depressed for months and i missed that feeling so bad (i missed my antipsychotics for like 3 days lol) so maybe you can include reader being off their meds? or maybe smth like they starting taking a new med in particular (my dr recently upped my vyvanse dosage bc i have rlly bad adhd too) and i've js been like pulling all nighters/only sleeping for a few hours and have been writing non stop and hanging out/calling online friends constantly to avoid being alone so take all this as you will
thanks cro :>
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𝙃𝙎𝙍 𝙈𝙀𝙉 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝘼 𝘽𝙄𝙋𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙍 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 ᯓ★ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀: sunday, anaxa, aventurine ᯓ★ rules | masterlist | 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 ᯓ★ 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | @aventurinesweetheart ᯓ★ 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: thanks for the request i hope you'll feel better soon
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#𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗔𝗬
on nights when your mind races with unrelenting energy, sunday becomes your anchor. he listens patiently as you speak of dreams and fears, his presence a calming force amidst the storm. you talk about the stars, about death, about love like it's a fever dream you're stuck inside - and he listens. sunday doesn’t try to interrupt you. he just shifts closer, pressing his forehead to yours, grounding you in something steady. “i’m here,” he’ll whisper, over and over, until the weight starts to drain from your chest.
when words fail, he hums a soft melody, the same one he used to play for his sister, letting the gentle notes soothe your restless thoughts.
during your lows, when silence envelops you, he doesn't press for conversation. instead, he sits beside you, holding your hand, offering silent support. his unwavering presence assures you that you're not alone, no matter where your emotions take you. he never tries to fix you. he just stays - and sometimes, that’s everything.
#𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗫𝗔
you confuse him. at first. logic doesn’t map the way your emotions swing from wildfire to ash, and no philosophy can hold all your light and all your dark. but instead of withdrawing, anaxa studies you - not like a subject, but like a sacred text.
anaxa approaches your emotional fluctuations with a blend of logic and empathy. when you're overwhelmed with energy, he gently guides you through grounding exercises, helping you channel your thoughts constructively. he might suggest writing down your ideas or engaging in a calming activity together. when you’re up late pacing, voice rising with the rush of energy, he keeps his own movements calm, lets you burn until you’re ready to sleep.
during depressive episodes, he remains close, offering a steady hand and a listening ear. he doesn't claim to have all the answers but provides a safe space for you to express yourself. his consistent support helps you navigate the highs and lows, reminding you of the strength within you. he’ll sit with a hand resting over yours, saying little but offering you presence. you don’t have to explain. not to him. he never demands consistency, only honesty. “it’s alright to be many things,” he murmurs once as you’re drifting. “so long as you let me stay for all of them.”
#𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗘
you scare him sometimes - not because he doesn’t love you, but because you remind him that not everything can be calculated. your moods don’t follow odds or strategy, and aventurine is used to predicting people. but you? you're the outlier he doesn't want to predict - just understand. aventurine treats your emotional swings as part of the grand game of life, embracing each moment with enthusiasm.
during manic phases, he matches your energy, engaging in spontaneous adventures or late-night conversations. he ensures that your excitement is met with understanding and shared joy. when you're bouncing off the walls with grand plans at 2am, he’ll laugh, wrap his arms around you and say, “alright, my beautiful chaos, what’s the play tonight?”
when depression sets in, he shifts gears, offering comfort through light-hearted stories or simply being present without demands. he respects your need for space while subtly reminding you of the vibrant moments you've shared. he rides the waves - not trying to steer, just holding you steady when the water rises. his adaptability and unwavering support make him a reliable partner through every emotional turn.
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loovser · 1 day ago
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the guy she was interested in wasn’t a guy at all - chapter 4
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synopsis turns out the cute guy from the cd store is actually… a girl
wc: 3,3k
cw: feelings all over the place, love you jesse and dina, ellie’s trying hard… my pookie. mentions of weed, cursing, lila is now kinda cool, angst, fluff and oh my god the ending just made me crazy and dizzy aaaand don’t kill me.
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ellie fucked up. she knows that, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. for what it’s worth, it hurts even more to know that she put you through all of this. it was wrong from the start. a misunderstanding that she should have solved as soon as it came to her knowledge.
but how could she? when all she thought about was you. how everything felt so easy with you. for once in her life, someone was really seeing her — and it was you. she wanted that. desperately.
she was selfish. but the way you flooded her with so many feelings — it overflowed. and you got swept away in it, too.
it’s been a whole day. she hasn’t seen you around campus. not even in your classes — don’t ask her how she memorized those. but she wasn’t sure if she should look for you. well, she knows she should give you some space. but still, she already craves seeing you. she misses you, misses talking to you.
her mind is stuck on the way she touched your face. the way you were so close to her. how you looked at her. she messed it all up. and she doesn’t know how to deal with that. the solution she came up with — staying in her dorm all day — isn’t really working. it was just making it worse. she wants to go home to joel, but he is out of town. she knows that, if she calls him, he will go back instantly. that’s why she doesn’t. suck it up, ellie.
she tried calling you when you left. no answer. she tried contacting you, it hurt to see your old conversations. she wonders how it feels for you. probably worse. it confirms her suspicions when you leave her on read — every message she sends is totally ignored, just like the ones she’s sending right now.
ellie Do Not Answer (2:54) talk to me… im really sorry
ellie Do Not Answer (2:54) i miss you
no answer. you lock the screen, fighting back the tears. you’ve already cried too much over this. it feels so… embarrassing. you feel so dumb. how could you not recognize her? the way she sounds, the way she moves. it’s all so… ellie. you should’ve known better. but at the same time, how could you doubt anything about her when you connected so deeply in such a short time.
when you found out, you were so hurt. you felt betrayed. it pained you deeply, how you felt like you were being played. how she was making a fool out of you. did she laugh about this to her friends? did she think you are stupid, just as you feel? was it a dare? some kind of twisted joke? one of those bet things from crappy rom-coms?
deep down, you know that she must have had a reason for it. if she’s really anything like she was showing to you, there’s no way she did that because she was trying to hurt you. it’s so confusing how your thoughts oscillate between thinking about her feelings and reasons or just sticking to yours. like you are on a damn seesaw, feelings tossed up and down, again and again.
you missed all your classes today. your friends were texting you like crazy. leah even mentions ellie — as the quiet girl who sits next to you during VFX classes. saying something about how she went to all of your classes, looking for something and how she finds it weird. you snort. she’s such a loser.
and you are crying again. because, even if you try not to, you miss her too. you miss talking to her about songs, about you and about her. just… about everything. you weren’t even talking for that long, but you already knew so much about each other. except her real identity. the damn seesaw.
what are you supposed to believe? was she being herself around you all the time? even during texts? she did mention her roomie was a bitch when you thought she was miller and it turned out to be true. she also told you that she didn’t go to college, which she does. sharing fucking classes with me, yeah — surprise. i get it now.
it is too much. even more when you think about having to see her again. you have a fucking project to finish together, or you will fail the class. you can’t fail it. even if you want to change your partner now, you’ll have to talk to her at some point.
which is bothering her too. a lot. but not for the same reason as it’s bothering you. she definitely wants to work on it with you, but she gotta make things right first. somehow… there has to be a way you can forgive her. even if you don’t want to be friends — or whatever it is that you were — with her anymore. at the very least, she just… really wants to finish this project with you.
she opens her spotify, to check the playlist you made her and- oh my fucking god.
it’s gone. deleted. as in: doesn’t exist anymore. she feels like crying, again.
she needs to do something to fix it. anything. whatever it takes.
meanwhile, all you want is to rot in bed all day. or even better, all week. it’s funny how someone you’ve known for less than a month can have such a huge impact on you. well, at least talked to for less than a month. because really, she’s been around for a while. and it’s not like you haven’t noticed her before. you just haven’t really seen her and you wish you had before all of this happened. things could be different, no lies to hurt you in the process.
but it didn’t happen. and still, your heart flutters when you remember the moments you shared together. the way her calloused fingers felt so soft on your cheek. how her green eyes sometimes flicker with this hazel shadow when the sun peeks through the cd store’s window.
how you would do anything to see her flushed cheeks underneath her face mask while she flirted with you. or how pretty she must have looked when you could hear the smirk in her voice. somehow it makes you feel relieved that miller and ellie are actually one. the same. how all your worries were never really a problem because you were not confused between two people. in reality you were falling for the same one, all sides of her. of ellie.
you unfollowed her on instagram and deleted the playlist you made her earlier and you kind of regret it now. even if you never felt anything close to what you feel about her, you always had in mind that it is never a waste to feel. whatever it is that you are feeling, just feel it. but it’s hard when you don’t even know what you are feeling. you are sad, disappointed, embarrassed. but you are also relieved — and missing her.
gladly, a knock on your door gives your tortured brain some rest. you sigh, not really knowing what to expect when you make your way to open it. when you see jesse and dina there you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. maybe you should just answer her and actually talk about it like grown-ups do.
“what the fuck..” you murmur, curiosity getting the best of you. they are her friends after all.
“hello to you, too.” jesse chuckles and dina elbows him slightly, flashing you a sheepish smile.
“we have a delivery for you!” she adds, taking a little zipbag full of weed from his jacket’s pocket.
“um… i don’t remember buying this”
“that’s cause you didn’t.” the guy deadpans.
“it’s a gift!” dina barges in. “from ellie.”
“oh…” it’s all you manage to say. of course it’s from ellie. is she really trying to buy me with weed right now?
you blink, staring at the bag. they stare back at you, waiting for your reaction. you sigh as the silence stretches just enough for it to get awkward, grabbing it from her hand gently. taking it to your nose, you don’t even need to make an effort to sniff it. this is not your usual. it’s the more expensive one. some really high quality shit.
“wow. she put some effort into it, didn’t she?” you bite back a smile.
“yup. made her pay full price because of the bullshit she pulled-“ dina smacks his arm to stop him from talking any further, earning a loud ‘ouch!’ from him.
“can’t really pass free weed now” you shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but by the way they smile you know they can see right through you.
“i guess you can’t” she chuckles. “what you can do, tho it’s showing up to the college’s rooftop tonight.”
“that would be great, yes, dina. great idea! like, you could just go up there at 8 p.m. sharp.” jesse adds and you can’t help but laugh at how they are really doing this right now.
“you’re good friends, y’know? i’ll think about it.”
“okay, yeah… keep playing it hard to get like we don’t know you will be there… can’t fool us!” he jokes, pulling dina together with him so they can leave your apartment’s door.
leaving you there, the damn gift weighing heavy in your hand — and on your heart. how much money did she actually spend with that? it makes you feel bad, somehow. you know she hurt you and you know she knows it too. your heart clenches at the thought that she must be suffering with this whole thing, too.
yet, she’s been reaching out to you, from the moment you left her dorm. she’s been trying to fix it, in some way. you never expected someone to care about you that much. your friends never did. even if you know she’s more than that. or was. it’s been a whole day and she is still doing what’s in her power to try fixing the mess she created. thinking about you, about things you like.
and all you can do is sigh because you know jesse is right. if you didn’t want to forgive her, not even a little, would you have accepted her gift? you know the answer to that.
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thinking about what she could do to fix everything with you wasn’t easy at all. ellie had to literally sit down on her bed and write down a lot of ideas — 43 to be exact. and most of those were shit, like finishing the project all by herself so you wouldn’t have to do it.
where’s the fun in that? she would save you from seeing her again, yes. as she had in mind that you absolutely despised her at the moment, it would be a huge favor to you. but complete torture to her. and she still wanted you to like her again, so this idea had to go.
the atmosphere in her dorm was pretty shitty. she couldn’t hide the fact that she was crying to lila, which made the girl stare at her for, like, 50 minutes. non-stop. without saying a word, too. not that ellie was expecting her to, it was just… weird as fuck.
but then “what’s with all this crying today? you are freaking me out”
the cinnamon-haired girl looked up at her, furrowed brows and face drenched in tears. “you are such a comforting presence. fucking hell”
and lila giggled. like it really amused her. this fucking girl… “sorry. it’s just that i’ve never seen you cry in my whole life. does this have anything to do with that girl that was here yesterday?”
as ellie cries harder at the mention of you, her roomie nods, understanding. “right, so what happened? if you want to talk about it.”
honestly? ellie did. and she is glad that they talked because, after calling her a dumbass and many other things, lila actually gave her good advice. which helped her think about the two ideas she hoped would work because she couldn’t afford to actually lose you.
after a few hours, the first step was done and she couldn’t stop smiling and feeling the little feeling that was now blossoming on her chest: hope. after reading jesse’s text, telling her you accepted her gift.
which explains why she is now kicking her feet on the bed, giggling and ignoring how much of a fool she must be looking.
lila raises an eyebrow at the sudden happiness, contrasting to the conversation they had earlier. “whatever it is you are doing, never do it again.”
she rolls her eyes, still smiling “she accepted the weed!”
“who the fuck would deny free weed? anyway, i’m out again. don’t do anything i wouldn’t do.” she shoots a smirk in ellie’s direction — teasing, but there’s something in it that makes ellie want to vanish into her bedsheets.
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you’ve already tried all the clothes in your fucking closet and nothing seems good enough. you hate this feeling of having to go somewhere you don’t know what to expect or what to wear to. you don’t want to overdress! or underdress! dina and jesse could have hinted you what to wear.
sighing, you wondered if ellie was going through this too — yes, in fact she changed her clothes four times before her friends dragged her out of her bedroom or she would be late. you just couldn’t stop thinking about her. like you’ve been doing all day. and all week.
yes, you are, indeed, still very sad and embarrassed. but a lot of other feelings are there too, making sure you can feel all of them at once. how thoughtful. the human mind is so great.
finally, you settle with an outfit that you like and feel comfortable in, too tired to keep overthinking everything. today was… draining. you just hope whatever it is that waits for you in the rooftop doesn’t make things worse. but something tells you it won’t.
as you leave your apartment, the cold breeze makes you shiver slightly. winter is almost coming, which makes you happy. you love everything about it, snow, the holidays, hot chocolate with marshmallows, boots, beanies. it’s just a very cozy season to you.
the way towards college is soothing, even if your heart drums in your ears loudly in anticipation. you really hope you can see ellie soon, even if you are afraid to do so. you live near the campus, so it doesn’t take too long until you are quickly climbing the stairs, aiming for the main building rooftop.
what you do realize is that the building is way more packed than it should be. as you reach the 4th floor, your eyes catch this big poster that you seemed to ignore before. you had to double check to know if you were seeing it right. the words ‘talent show’ written on it in big, bold letters. what the actual fuck.
you had totally forgotten that this was tonight. that’s because you didn’t really pay attention to these things, normally. and you don’t see why ellie would, either.
she’s nervously bouncing her knee as she seats on the parapet next to the stage. well, it is a small one, really. built exclusively for this event. she didn’t know that so many people would be there when she submitted her name last-minute. but now it’s too late to back off.
and when she sees you arriving the rooftop, searching for her, she knows she did the right thing. you don’t look at her right away. but then you do. and she’s already with her eyes locked on you, a soft smile on her lips. ellie couldn’t be more relieved to see that you actually came. that you are there, staring at her and she almost giggles when you bite back a smile. oh, you think you are so smooth.
you clear your throat. you are sad and mad and disappointed! act like it, damn. but it’s hard when you see those green eyes you like so much. you find a seat, one that is close to the cute stage. you wait for her to come and sit down next to you, furrowing your brows when you see her grabbing her guitar — which you haven’t noticed before, too lost on her pretty features — and walking to the stage. no fucking way.
there’s something else you notice now that you let your eyes roam through her figure. she’s wearing a deftones t-shirt, short sleeved. her tattoo on display. some grey loose jeans and all-stars. just like she would dress if she was at one of her shifts on firefly. but she’s not wearing a face mask and her mullet is down.
it’s her. really her, not hiding, not trying to go unnoticed. it’s like she’s telling you that she won’t be someone she’s not anymore. she’s being herself, not college ellie, not miller. just ellie williams.
your heart nearly stops. she’s all you can see, like there is just you and her there. you don’t even pay attention as someone introduces her as the first one to perform. you miss how the boy says that she actually asked to be the first one. she wanted to be there when you arrived at 8 o’clock.
and she is. sitting down at the center of the stage, her gaze never leaving yours. that you don’t miss. not even the tiniest moves she makes, you catch them all. your attention is solely on her, just like she craved it to be. it’s overwhelming. all ellie wants to do is close the distance between you. but she takes a deep breath, striking the first chords as she starts singing.
“talking away. i don’t know what i’m to say, i’ll say it anyway.”
it takes your breath away. her voice is so beautiful. you always thought so. how it would send shivers down your spine every time she talked. but hearing her sing? a whole other level.
“today’s another day to find you. shying away… i’ll be coming for your love, okay”
everything else have turned into white noise. it’s just you and her. she is not just singing to you, she is singing about you. you sit there, hands clutching the hem of your jacket, feeling your chest tighten with every word.
you don’t know what it is. maybe it’s the fact that she keeps looking directly at you the whole time. or how the lyrics sound so genuine coming out of her lips and carving your heart deeply. permanently. or if it’s how pretty she looks in the dim lights of the rooftop.
you just know that, in that moment, any doubts you could ever had about her are long gone. buried, forgiven.
because no one has ever made you feel so special and so cherished before. not like she’s doing right now.
the way you smile at her and the way you look at her are enough for her to keep singing ‘take on me’ by a-ha without any struggles. it’s coming from the bottom of her heart and all she feels in this moment is you. all her eyes can see is you. all her heart craves for is you. it’s always been you.
and it’s always been her. no matter what came with it, a boy’s name or her discreet persona in class. it was her all along.
she is the one you’ve fallen for.
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posted earlier cause you asked here you go!! so… next chapter is also the last one. tell me what you are thinking i love to read your comments!
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