#if this has more notes in the morning Im going to put my hand in a pencil sharpener (being overdramatic)

[acefulbwa]

World's Worst polycule lmao

[bucketbueckers]

SUPERSTAR

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

content: party!p being drunk and clingy and a maybe a little annoying, fluff without plot, the fuck ass net, language, the authors love language is physical touch and you can really tell

wc: 3.0k

synopsis: Paige Bueckers is a lightweight. Knowing that, you really shouldn’t have been all too surprised by the post-win afterparty.

notes: obligatory post natty fic?? i say yes! cooking one up for azzi too, idk when it will get posted but expect it soon. i dont care how much homework i have to procrastinate. side note, watching them play live was such a surreal experience, i'm still thinking about it and there are so many emotions that i can't put into words. they deserved this win so bad and i love my team so much 😩 i also wrote the second half of this while watching the men’s natty and all i have to say is im a misandrist and go huskies! as always i hope y'all enjoy 🫶

You liked to think that you were an expert in a few niche categories.

The first is basketball. You grew up listening to the reverb of the bounce echoing in the gym. You learned how to dribble before you learned how to multiply. More often than not, you could usually tell when a shot was going into the net as soon as it left your hands. This is all to say you were pretty decent at basketball, although you’re sure that dropping a modest fourteen points in the national championship match and taking home the trophy makes you a little more than decent at ball.

Basketball aside, you weren’t lacking in the skills department. KK jokes that you and Carol share the title as the moms of the group since you’re so good at conflict resolution – although you prefer the term “trying to keep everyone alive.” More often than not, you’ll find Morgan standing at your door with a bag of groceries in hand, a wide smile on her lips in hopes that you’ll cook her dinner because, according to her, you just make the best carbonara she’s ever had. You’ve never been good at saying no to Morgan – she was yours and Aubrey’s shared freshman and after her surgery, you’ve made a point of spending as much time with her as possible because you can tell she’s not having an easy time with watching everyone play while she’s on the sidelines.

The one thing that you’re certain you’re an expert in is Paige Bueckers. You know her inside and out and on and off the court. The two of you started as rivals in high school, although your friendship truly blossomed during AAU competitions and Team USA where you had to play together. The distance and the competition kept the both of you from being anything more than friends, but when the both of you committed to UConn without the other knowing, Paige asked you out after the first summer practice and you were sure that you were a goner when she ran into a pole trying to spin a ball on her finger in an attempt to impress you. You grew up together, saw the best and the worst parts that came with dating an athlete, and stuck it through until the end – you even used your COVID eligibility to stay one extra year with her. Whether the universe wanted it or not, the two of you were going to win a natty together, damn it; and win it you did.

Which leads you to where you are now. You’re an expert in Paige Bueckers. There’s not a single thing you don’t know about her, just like there’s not a single thing she doesn’t know about you. That’s why you knew you were doomed when, during the group picture, she exclaimed “We get a parade! And we get to get drunk!” The thing about Paige is that she’s a D1 clinger when she’s plastered. She’s loud and annoyingly charming and honestly, you’re so in love with her that you’re not bothered by it. You’d hold her hair back while she vomited for the rest of your life as long as it meant the two of you were together for it. You just knew she’d be inconsolable and grumpy in the morning when she’s hungover, but after five years of blood, sweat, tears, surgery, rehab, and hardwork, your girlfriend has just won a national championship, so if she wants to get a little plastered and sing at the top of her lungs, then you have no real reason to do anything but ensure she gets back to your room safely.

A few minutes after the conclusion of the net cutting ceremony, you’re taking a few more photos with the trophy in your hands, your hat tucked neatly over your head when Paige comes over. The photographer leaves you two be as Paige reaches for the brim of your hat, turning it backwards to match hers. She’s got that soft, mischievous, slightly wide-eyed look on her face as she looks at you and you can’t help but melt at it. You can tell from her expression that it hasn’t fully set in that she’s won a natty, but you know it’ll hit her later.

“You want something or are you just here to annoy me?” you ask teasingly, handing the trophy off to Ice, who’s taking selfies. You reach out to adjust the net around Paige’s neck as she responds.

“What, I can’t come say hi to my girl?” she goads, the look on her face far too pleased. One of the other things you knew about Paige Bueckers after so many years together was that she loves attention. Specifically, from you, and you can tell that she loves how easily you handed off the trophy to focus fully on her.

“Hello,” you deadpan, which just makes her smirk.

“I ever tell you how proud I am of you?” she asks, shocking you slightly, and heat rises to your cheeks as you try to process the sudden praise.

You blink, rolling your eyes slightly, but the fond smile on your face gives you away. Your girlfriend curls her arm over your shoulders as she leads you through the crowd towards the tunnel. “C’mon, P. I should be saying that to you.”

“Nah,” she disagrees. “You brought us back in the second quarter with those threes.”

You shrug a shoulder, feigning nonchalance. “I did see Coach Staley crashing out when I was getting back on defense.” That makes Paige laugh a little, pulling you flush into her. “I’m serious, though. I’m proud of you, you know?” The two of you slow to a stop once you’re safely away from the cameras and the onlookers, so you turn towards her, resting your hands on her chest and threading your fingers through the net around her neck. “You just…you don’t know how special you are. As a person, a player, a teammate. You’ve been the heart and soul of this team, Paige. You’re here now. And you did it.” You give a teasing tug to the net, watching the affectionate smile spread across her lips, the tears pooling at her waterline again. “You deserve every bit of this.”

“We can be proud of each other,” she suggests. “But I’m definitely prouder than you.”

“You’re full of shit,” you say fondly, patting her cheek. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I really am,” she agrees, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, one that makes you smile, and one that lasts not nearly long enough because KK walks by and gags dramatically. You raise a middle finger to her as she cackles. Paige laughs against you, too, wrapping her arms around your waist and sinking into your embrace instead. You rub her back, feeling her relax against you, and you kiss her head over the hat.

“I don’t suppose this means you’re gonna behave tonight?” you ask jokingly, already knowing that Party P will be in full effect.

She scoffs like you’ve just said something egregious. “I’m always on my best behavior,” she declares, and all you can truly do is smile and roll your eyes. You know.

The moment Paige finds the ping-pong table, you know it’s wraps.

She’s only a few shots in, but Paige Bueckers is a lightweight. You learned that much when you were both freshmen and you convinced one of the upperclassmen on the team to buy you drinks at Ted’s. Paige was laid out in the bathroom by 10pm and the two of you went home early. You spent the better part of the morning after tending to her hangover, but you’d told her to slow down, so everytime she whined that her head hurt you simply said, “I told you so” (although you felt bad enough for her that you rubbed her back for a few hours until the ache subsided).

Paige is playing one on one with Sarah – mind you, she’s still wearing that fuck ass net, but it’s a little endearing by this point. It reminds you of a little kid who can’t go anywhere without their emotional support blanket. Somehow, you’ve been roped in to being the referee, and as much as you tried to argue that ping-pong didn’t really need a referee, Paige was already inching into that clingy state of being drunk, so she’d just pulled you along and planted a wet, obnoxious kiss to your cheek as she steadied her paddle, unmistakable confidence in her expression.

At first, it’s tame. You watch the ball bounce back and forth between the two of them, still nursing a drink of your own. You alternate between saying Point, Sarah, or Point, Paige. Sarah, in typical Sarah fashion, hardly reacts, although Paige is either crashing out or celebrating every point like it’s another natty win. You weren’t too sure where she got the whole “nonchalant final boss” thing from, but it definitely was not true.

A few rounds later, a small crowd has formed, and she takes a breather to sidle up next to you. She wraps an arm around your waist and leans into you, taking a sip from your drink (much to your amusement), her expression is unbearably blissed out. Paige has a soft look on her face, her eyes a little hooded, but beyond the clear drunkenness, you can see a whole lot of love reflected in her eyes, an appreciation for tonight’s win. “You having fun, baby?” you ask her, a grin on your face.

She hums, tightening her grip, uncaring of the way Ice and KK are laughing at her. Paige pulls back suddenly, concern and slight guilt on her face. “Are you?” she echoes, like it would physically pain her if you weren’t enjoying your night. Knowing her, it probably would.

You laugh a little, rubbing your hand down her back, adjusting the cap on her head because it’s about to fall off from all of the bouncing around she’s done. “I am, don’t worry,” you say honestly.

“Good,” she murmurs, kissing you soundly. Without another word, she extracts herself from your grip and gears up for the next few rounds of ping pong with Sarah. She catches your eye and winks. “This one’s for you, baby,” she promises.

The serve immediately sails out of bounds. You try not to laugh too hard when you say, “Point, Sarah.”

“Shit,” Paige states.

“I think you’re supposed to keep the ball in bounds,” Sarah says helpfully.

“I got distracted,” Paige argues. “Didn’t count. 0-0.”

“It’s 1-0 for Sarah,” you call out, taking your job very seriously. You ignore the pout Paige sends your way, as if a pretty face would make you give up your refereeing integrity. It won’t.

Paige and Sarah take turns hitting the ping pong ball. You stay focused, although Paige’s expression endlessly amuses you. Her brows are furrowed, concentrated as she follows the ball, her movements strangely coordinated and precise for someone who’s a few shots in. Then, Ice announces she’s on live, which distracts Sarah, and Paige scores an easy point on her. Immediately, she launches into a celebration, chanting something that sounds like “Little Rah.” You and Sarah exchange a glance. A smile spreads across your face as you announce, “Foul on Paige. Unsportsmanlike conduct. Point, Sarah.”

Paige spins on her heel immediately. “Bruh, what?” she exclaims. “How was that unsportsmanlike? Since when does ping pong even have foul calls?”

“Careful, Lil Paigey,” Sarah says somberly, although her lips twitch like she’s trying to hold back a smile. “Arguing with the ref can get you a tech. Just ask DT.”

“Bruh,” Paige says again, looking at you pleadingly, like you can take away the egregious foul call you just made on your girlfriend. “Babe, come on. You know this is bull–” you raise a brow at her and she falters, “–crap. Bullcrap.”

You grin when you say, ���2-0, Sarah.”

Paige stares at you like you’ve just betrayed her. You can tell she’s not actually upset, but she’s competitive more than anything. She takes a deep breath and reaches for her paddle again.

For the rest of your round, you do your best to throw Paige off her game, ranging from rolling up your sleeve as you pretend to inspect your conveniently flexed bicep or making increasingly more bullshit calls. You award Sarah a point for having a double double in the natty and subtract one point from Paige’s total because she had one turnover (you ignore her when she points out that Sarah had two turnovers, like that’s any of your business).

Finally, you call it at 15-9 in Sarah’s favor because you can tell the drinks are catching up to Paige. It’s already well past midnight and your flight back to Storrs tomorrow morning is early and you know Paige is going to have a rough morning. She pouts when you tell her that you’re taking her back to the room, but she knows it’s for the best so she makes her rounds, hugging everyone in the room and refuses to part with the net when KK reaches for it. Paige tangles your fingers together, not letting a single inch of space separate the two of you as she rambles on about how you and Sarah were most definitely cheating (you were).

When you make it back to the hotel room, you guide Paige into the bathroom, squeezing toothpaste onto her brush and pulling her hair tie out while she cleans her teeth. “I’mma be so sick tomorrow,” she complains, spitting, and scrubbing again as you reach for your toothbrush.

“That’s why you’re gonna take some medicine before you sleep,” you tell her. “And in the morning. And I’ll get you some coffee.”

“You’re the best,” she whispers, rinsing her mouth out. She stands behind you and wraps her arms around your waist, burying her head in your neck. Her breath tickles your skin as she tries to melt into you. She behaves like she’d die if she wasn’t under your skin, but you love your clingy girl just the same. “I’on know what I’d do without you. Like, for real. I wouldn’t be here without you, y’know that?”

“You’d still be here. Just a little less house trained, I think,” you promise her. Paige laughs against your skin, amused, as if she knew that’s what you would say. “But I’m glad you didn’t have to do it alone.” That makes her soften, her hands trailing under your shirt to brush against your skin. “You never have to do it alone as long as I’m here.”

“I know,” she says, kissing your neck tenderly. She squeezes you around your waist, then releases you, her gaze a little sleepy and hazy.

You offer her a grin, reaching for her hand. “Let’s get you to bed, superstar.” She nods and trails behind you. You flick on the lamp as she gets settled into bed. Paige tugs meaningfully at the net around her neck and you laugh, shaking her head. “You’ll choke and die in your sleep,” you deadpan. “I’d really like it if my girlfriend made it through the night.”

Paige juts out her bottom lip, grumbling under her breath as you pull the net off, draping it over the desk chair. You take the hat from her and set it on the nightstand, brushing your fingers through her hair as her eyes slip shut in relaxation. Before she can get too comfortable, you pass her a water bottle and the tylenol, which she takes without complaint.

Once she’s finally settled, you crawl into bed next to her. She wastes no time before wrapping you up, drawing you into her body and tucking her face into the crook of your neck and breathing soundly. You’d thought it would take some time before Paige would realize that she just won a natty, but now, it’s sinking in for you. You’re a national champion. So is your girlfriend. You’ve accomplished the very goal that you came back to UConn to seek out. You’re overcome with this heavy feeling of peace, gratitude, an overwhelming amount of love and admiration for the woman who put the team on her back when she needed to, who took a step back to let her team do their thing when needed to. Most of all, you’re overcome with a feeling of belonging, the feeling that you’re right where you’re supposed to be, wrapped in Paige’s arms like you’re more important to her than the trophy.

You think she’s fallen asleep until she murmurs, still slightly in awe, “We did it.” Her hand tightens around the fabric of your shirt, her voice exhausted and dripping with something that sounds like accomplishment.

Your fingers brush her knuckles, a smile of your own spreading across your face as you agree, “We did.”

You can feel the smile she presses against your skin, the subsequent kiss that follows. “I love you,” she murmurs. “Thank you for doing this with me.”

You don’t think you could be anywhere else. You lift her hand to your lips, kissing her knuckles, and she squeezes you one more time as you whisper, “I love you, too.”

When the two of you wake up that morning, you have her coffee ready and you make sure she takes her medicine to keep the headache away. And when she looks at you hopefully, holding up the net and the hat, you really don’t have it in you to protest.

You place the net around her neck again and you tuck the wisps of her hair under her hat, pressing your lips to hers, and she hugs you tightly with an emotion that feels a hell of a lot like relief. You know she’s relieved for a lot of reasons, but the top reason stems from a deep thankfulness that the both of you were able to win the national championship together, just as you’d spent years dreaming about.

Paige grins at you again, her expression adoring, and you know that what the two of you have is worth a whole lot more than the trophy you’ll be transporting to Storrs.

[luvyeni]

ONE MORE BEFORE YOU GO ♱. ── ( 엔하이픈 )

trying to get them to stay and go another round …

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 엔하이픈 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. allusions to sex , cursing word count. 0.8k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ i was so confused on how to write this , idky

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 정원 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

“that pouty face isn’t gonna work this time.” he said looking down at your pouty face , you were wrapped up in nothing but a sheet. “it worked last time.” you purred , purposely letting the blanket fall. “fuck , you’re really pushing your luck.” he looked at the time — he was gonna be only 5 minutes late if he left right now. “why worry about the time when you can just stay here.” he chuckled. “stay here , and what fuck you all day?” you shrug, you perfect mounds on display. “doesn’t seem like a bad idea to me.”

“you’re insatiable.” he said ; the entire time he’s slowly losing jus mind. “you know you want to.” you said , he checked the time once more — he’ll be 10 minutes late if he leaves now… but he won’t be late at all if he just doesn’t go , plus he’ll be able to feel you all over again. “i promise this is the last time this will ever happen.” he said kissing your lips. “let’s see how wet you are for me.”

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 희승 : heeseung ﹚ .ᐟ

hearing you whine for the 10th time as he put his clothes on makes him laugh. “glad to know my suffering brings you happiness and entertainment.” you roll around in the bed , barely clothed , normal that would be enough for heeseung; but he was already 30 minutes late to practice. “im laughing because you’re just too cute baby , whine and throwing a tantrum because i wont fuck you again , even though i just made you cum three times.”

“but im still horny.” you said sitting up on your knees. “please , just once more.” you pouted. “and then you’re free to go.” you said , pulling at his belt loop. “you’re crazy.” he said , his lips barely brushing against yours. “for you yes.” he giggled , time long forgotten. “you what baby fuck it , lay back.” he said , hovering above you. “i can’t leave my girl all needy and this wet for me can i , what kinda boyfriend would i be?”

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 제이 : jay ﹚ .ᐟ

sighing as you rub his shoulders; he knows what you’re trying to do. “what if you’re just 20 minutes late?” you purr into his ear. “what can it hurt?” you kissed behind his ear — you were gonna kill him in the best possible way. “because 20 minutes will turn into a hour messing around with you princess , the boys are already blowing my phone like crazy and — fuck.” he threw his head back as you kissed his neck some more. “please.” your hands working on his chest. “you know you want to.”

he couldn’t hold back anymore; turning around , hovering above you. “you’re so spoiled baby.” he said , wrapping your legs around his waist. “it’s all your fault.” you bit back playfully. “yeah?” he smirked , bring his thumb to your bottom lip. “let me take full responsibility then , fuck you the way you should be.”

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 제이크 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

he literally has to fight himself internally to get out of the bed and leave you every morning even when you don’t have mind blowing morning sex , but it’s 100x times harder leaving out the door when you’re still begging for another round. “baby.” he whined. “i can’t i'm already late.” keep in mind he’s still hard himself and your begging isn’t doing him any good. “please jake , i need you so much.” he really needs to leave , his phone has already been blowing up.

he falls for it everytime ; the ole ‘just a kiss before you go.’ bending down to kiss you ; only for him to deepen the kiss , he can’t help it , he just loves kissing you ; it gets him all worked up. “fuck you do this all the time.” he moaned against your neck. “jake please fuck me.” you moaned… safe to say jake showed up to practice an hour late that day.

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 성훈 : sunghoon ﹚ .ᐟ

his shirt isn’t even buttoned up; as he rushes to put his pants and shoes on. “shit im so fucking late right now.” you on the other hand; you’re up and on one already. “see so it doesn’t matter; you’re already late.” you said , he stared at you , you were the reason he was late now , you looked so good in the morning he couldn’t help himself. “we’ve been at it since early this morning , im not sure how im gonna stay awake during practice.” he said. “how are you still so fucking needy.”

“because you look good.” you smiled with a look anything but innocent. “how about you stay home then?” he scoffed. “of course you’d say that.” he said , yet he’s the one kicking his shoes off , crawling back in bed. “are you gonna call the guys and tell them you were being such a needy slut for me today that’s why i didn’t show up?” you nodded. “if you stay in this bed and fuck me all day then i’ll tell them anything.” knowing sunghoon he’s gonna definitely hold you to it.

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 선우 : sunoo ﹚ .ᐟ

“sorry my love.” he said quickly trying to get ready while you persuade him to stay behind. “but i can’t stay any longer.” you looked so good laying in bed , but sunoo was already so late. “why.” you pouted. “i miss you already.” you said. “what about one more round , then i guess you can go and leave me here to die.” he shook his head at how dramatic you were being , but alas he couldn’t tell you no , even if jungwon was currently blowing his phone up.

“just one more okay.” he crawled back into bed with you. “then i really have to go my love.” he kissed both sides of your cheeks. “so pretty.” he whispered , grinding his lower region against yours. “how can i ever say no to you.”

©️LUVYENI

[makkir0ll]

"you have really long eyelashes"

it catches him off guard. you guys are just laying in your bed scrolling on your own phones. he didn't even feel you staring at him. how long have you been looking?

"thanks?" he replies

"no i mean seriously like drop the lash serum." you joke at him as you continue to observe him.

they're long and thick. the kind of lashes that have a natural curl, unlike yours, that fall straight down and take several minutes to curl to your perfect liking. not to mention the layers of mascara you apply to get them to even remotely look like his.

he turns his head to you and you don't miss his dilated pupils as his eyes bore into yours. you take note of how the lashes perfectly frame his eyes. and you're so jealous.

but then an idea pops into your head, you smile to yourself and he senses it coming.

"can i-"

"no" he cuts you off.

"babe please you don't even know what i was about to say!" you grab onto his shoulder as you plead.

"whatever it is im sure it's going to be bad." he retorts, turning his face away from you and going back on his phone.

"i'll buy you you're favorite food."

and that's how you end up here on his lap with your mascara in your hand. his hair is pushed back as his hands rest on your hips, drawing small circles as he awaits your actions.

you open the bottle with the black liquid and bring the wand close to his eyes. "don't move" you whisper and he listens. mainly because he's scared that you're going to poke his eye out as you bring the wand to the base of his eyelashes and wiggle it slowly before moving it up to coat the length of the lashes. some of the mascara gets on his eyelids. you repeat the actions on the other eye before going back and doing a second coat. you can tell that he might be slightly nervous that you're going to blind him with the way he holds his breath and the grip he has on your hips get ever so slightly tighter.

you move yourself off his lap and he goes to grab his phone so he can see what he looks like.

"wait no not yet, i'm still not done" you say as you go and grab ur q-tips and micellar water.

"still?"

"yes still, i need to clean up the mascara on your eyelids," you say as you place yourself back on his lap. you open the bottle of micellar water and carefully put the clear liquid on the q-tip. you bring the white stick of cotton to his eyes and you tell him to close them. he feels the wet cotton and it's a weird feeling. you watch the q-tip turn darker the more mascara you wipe off.

"okay i'm done!" you say and he opens his eyes and you don't think he's ever looked more majestic. his already long lashes looking even longer and bolder now that he has the mascara to bring them out. you notice that the color of his eyes pop more. "you look so pretty" you smile as lean in to pepper kisses along his face. his cheeks feel warm and he can already tell that they're probably red.

he reaches over to his phone and opens the camera app and switches the camera so he can see himself. and he immediatly notices the stark difference in his eyes with the mascara. he brings his fingers to his lashes to touch them. it feels weird and his eyes kind of feel weighed down. but he has no regrets when he sees you smiling at him so fondly.

"they look nice." he smiles at you, dropping his phone to the side.

"i know right, ugh im so jealous i wish i had your lashes. all my problems would be solved." you say, thinking about the long and excruciating lash routine you perform every morning.

"all of them?"

"yes, all of them."

he chuckles at your words. "alright, but can you take it off now, it feels weird." he says, hands coming to touch his lashes again. you pout as you grab the micellar water you put away and a cotton pad and remove the mascara from his eyelashes, being gentle so that he doesn't lose a few. he appreciates the action. and maybe he would let you put more than just mascara on his face another day.

KAGEYAMA (has the best lashes argue with the wall), suna, tsukishima (genuinely terrified that you're going to make him go blind), OSAMU, kuroo, MATSUKAWA MY LOVE, iwaizumi, OIKAWA (he would eat that shit up), akaashi, kenma, +ur fav.

[xximperioxx]

One of me is cute, but two though?

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.7k (not proofread)

Warnings: NSFW (18+ ONLY) age gap, swearing, fluff, established relationship, poorly written explicit smut, p in v, the slightest bit somnophilia, breeding kink, cockwarming?, female anatomy, male anatomy, unsafe sex, (let me know if I missed anything) MDNI 18+

Notes: pls be gentle with me this is my first time writing smut like this and Im so inexperienced it’s not funny. Enjoy the Sarah Paulson meme I put in there. Also I’ve been blown away by the love my work has recent gotten and I truly appreciate it. Anyways enjoy <3

Gif cred: @xxdrixx

———————————————————

You don’t exactly remember how you and Dr. Robinavitch got together. It started out with stolen glances and innocent touches at work and a kiss outside your apartment when he walked you home one night.

Today was busy and you were ready to go home. Except it wasn’t even noon yet.

You sit down at a computer with a huff. Your feet silently thanking you for a break. The sounds of the ED ringing in your ears as you try to focus on the screen in front of you. Your leg begins to bounce out of habit and your eyes look around the busy hospital.

Santos takes a seat at the computer across from you. She gives you a small smile. You return the gesture before your eyes look back at the computer and stare at the time. All you wanted to do was go back to Robby’s apartment and cuddle on the couch with your sweats on. With how this day was going the dream of your Friday night plans were beginning to fade away. Is an easy day so hard to ask for?

Collins catches your eye as she tries to soothe a crying baby. Robby tells her something before she carefully hands the child to him. Your eyes immediately gravitate seeing your boyfriend gently rocking the fussy infant. You perk up, now sitting up straight. If this wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen you don’t know what was. The two of you haven’t brought up the conversation of kids just yet.

You knew he was getting older and while you were still young, you weren’t sure of motherhood just yet. You’ve seen the horrors and heartbreak of childbirth in this hospital but you’ve also seen the light it brought to people. When the tears of pain turn into tears of joy. You’ve always imagined having a family but you never had a timeline. That was until you saw your man holding a baby right then.

You feel yourself grow hot and your pulse quickens. Suddenly, images of a future as a family with him flash through your mind. Being pregnant with Robby by your side, gently rocking your child to sleep, getting them ready school in the morning. You want it. All of it. God you wanted to climb like a tree right here.

The attending can feel someone’s eyes on him. His eyes search the room before they land on yours. His gently shushing comes to a stop. He gives you a confused look, not able to read your expression. Your lustful eyes soften as your face flushes from enamorment. You love him. You shake your head silently telling him it’s nothing.

He gives you a smile that says ‘I love you’ but a look that says you’ll be talking later. He continues to softly shush the infant in his arms before going to find the mother.

You don’t hear Collins approach the desk. She follows your gaze and lets out a laugh, “You okay there, Doc?”

Santos doesn’t look up from her computer, “She’s been like this for 5 minutes. Making bedroom eyes at Dr. Robby.”

“I think my body just had a physical reaction.” you joke.

Santos grimaced, “I don’t need to know about that. You keep that to yourself.” Collins lets out a snort as you scoff.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You let out a yelp as a hand pulls you into an unused room. The person pulls you into them. Out of reflex you start resisting. Which ends up to be you sadly hitting their chest.

“It’s just me– stop hitting me. Hey!” Robby grabs your hands, stopping you from hitting him more.

Your eyes widen in shock, “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Surprised turns to annoyance. You glare at him, “Why didn’t you just leave me a note like you normally do?”

He lets go of your hands and lets out a laugh. You try to fight turning your scowl into a stupid grin at his laugh.

His hands slither around your waist, pulling you flushed against him, “Is it so wrong for me to want a spontaneous moment alone with my beautiful girlfriend.” You roll your eyes as your hands reach up to rest on his chest.

He leans down and his lips meet yours for a gentle kiss.

He slowly pulls away after a few seconds, “We really need to get you trained on self defense because whatever that was earlier– was sad.”

You hit him again.

“Ow!”

You shut him up with a quick kiss, “Don’t be a wimp. I didn’t hit you that hard.” He grins.

His thumb sneaks under your scrub top and grazes the bare skin. Subconsciously, you feel your body shiver at his cold touch and lean into him closer. He smirks down at you. “What was with that look you gave me earlier?”

Your eyes look up at him with innocence, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A pinch causes your hips to jerk. His fingers caress the area. You sigh and nervously play with his stethoscope around his neck. “It’s dumb.” You mumble.

He gives you a displeased look, “Trust me it’s not.”

You purse your lips and can feel your heart beating faster, “When you were holding that baby,” the image pops into your mind, “It made me realize I want that with you. Like really, really badly.”

Your boyfriend raises an eyebrow at you, not expecting that.

His face softens, “You want a baby with me?”

You nod.

“I want a family with you too.”

Your hands reach up and pull him down for a searing kiss. He kisses you back immediately.

The two of you slowly pull away to catch your breath.

Robby placed a kiss on your forehead, “I love you.”

Your face turns red at the thought of earlier. You laugh and hide your face in his chest. “Michael, I wanted to fuck you right then and there. It was so embarrassing.”

His laugh rumbles his chest. “So that’s what that look was.”

Your groan comes out muffled from his chest.

“Well, how about tonight when we get home,” his thumbs start tracing your skin again, “We can work on that. Plus, you’re ovulating…”

You pull away with a scoff, slightly amazed. “How the hell do you even know that?”

He shrugs, giving you a sheepish grin, “It’s the doctor in me…and the boyfriend in me.”

A knock interrupts you two. Dana’s voice rings out, “Robby! We got a teen. Respiratory arrest. ETA 2 minutes.”

You both pull away from each other. Robby runs his hands down his face before they drop to his side. He sighs.

You lift your hand to his cheek and bring his face to yours.You press a kiss to his other cheek. “I love you.”

He gives your hand a squeeze before walking out to prepare for the coming case. You pull out your phone for a minute, not wanting to make it obvious you were in the room with your attending alone.

You walk out of the room, mentally trying to prepare yourself for what’s to come for the rest of the shift. A body waiting outside the door scares you. Dana.

You greet her with a shy smile, “Hi, Dana.”

The charge nurse gives you a knowing smirk, “Hi, kid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robby waits outside the hospital by the bike rack with one AirPod in. He focuses on McVie’s bass while ‘The Chain’ plays in his ear, blocking out the thoughts of his shift. His eyes follow the headlights of the cars passing the building.

You see Robby standing with his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. As if he could feel you coming, he looks up to meet your tired eyes. He greets you with a faint smile.

“Sorry, Collins stopped me on my way out about one of my patients.”

You didn’t want to tell him that the actual conversation was. It was just Collins leaning into you in passing with a “I hope it sticks tonight” ,a cheeky grin, and thumbs up for luck. All while you gaped at her.

You reach for his hand as you begin the walk to his place. Like most days when you and Robby share the same shift, the two of you walk to his apartment in comfortable silence. Robby normally listened to music to clear his head as you paid attention to the night life of the city.

Robby opens the door to his apartment and walks in after you. After dropping your bag at the table, you walk over to the door and take off your shoes. Out of the corner of your eye you see Robby walking over to you with a smolder.

He goes to reach for you but your hand stops him, “We are not doing anything until I am out of these scrubs and we have food in our stomachs because I know you didn’t eat anything today but a granola bar.”

Robby sighs in disappointment and you let out a snicker. He opens the fridge and pulls out leftovers as you grab two plates out of the cabinet.

The two of you eat while sharing conversations about positive things about your shifts. He brings up working with Whittaker as you share how your cases with Santos went well.

After you both finish, Robby picks up both of your plates as you start putting away the food you didn’t eat, “Do you mind if I take a quick shower?”

You wave him off and he gives you a quick peck on the lips before you start working on the dishes. After a bit, the kitchen is now clean. It had been a mess since this morning when the two of you left in a rush for work. You finish washing your hands before throwing the paper towel in the trash. The water had stopped a while ago and figured Robby had gotten ready for bed.

You make your way to the bedroom and find Robby sitting against the headboard in his boxers with a book in his hands. He glances up at you, his readers resting on his nose,“Thank you for cleaning, honey.”

He reaches his arm out to you. Walking over, you lean down and give him a quick kiss. “I’m going to shower. I’ll be quick.”

You come out of the bathroom feeling refreshed, wearing Robby’s bathrobe and some spare panties you had in the apartment. Rummaging through his dresser for a shirt, you feel Robby’s eyes on you. You laugh, “Stop looking at me like a teenage boy.”

“I can’t help it.” You glance down at the bulge growing in his boxers.

He motions you over and you immediately follow. You climb over him with ease, now straddling him. He notices your dilated pupils and how your breathing deepens. His calloused fingers trail from your thighs up to your hips.

Your eyes move from his eyes to his lips once more before leaning down and capturing his lips with yours. He kisses you back feverishly.

His fingers quickly untie the robe. He slips it off you and tosses it across the room. You let out a whimper as his hands immediately grasp at your breasts. Your kiss gets interrupted by your phone ringing from the other room.

You shake your head, “Ignore it.”

He leaves kisses down your neck. His teeth scraping, leaving you out of breath. You subconsciously begin to grind your hips. He lets out a groan before gently biting down on your pulse point.

His fingers push aside your panties. “Fuck,” He choked a groan feeling how wet you were.

You let out a whimper as his fingers collected your wetness. His thumb gently brushes against your clit. You fall into him with a gasp.

Your ringtone interrupts you again. You pull away with a sigh.

Robby’s hands rest on your hips. “Go get it. It could be important. Besides, I’m not going anywhere. ” you nod before he gives your hips a squeeze as you get off him.

You quickly grab an old junky shirt from his dresser. Your footsteps pad against the hardwood to the kitchen and you pick up your phone. You see two missed calls and a message from your mom. Call me.

What you thought was an important call ended up being 15 minutes of your mom trying to catch up and you repeating you would call her tomorrow. The ‘call me’ was just to tell you that she and dad got a new dog. You wanted to slam your head against the wall.

You come back into the bedroom with a snort, ready to tell your boyfriend what happened. You stop to find him asleep leaning against the headboard with his mouth slightly open. Soft snores fill the room. You let out a quiet laugh.

You turn the light off by his bedside and carefully take off his reading glasses before crawling into bed with him. You aimlessly scroll on your phone, looking at social media.

You don’t feel him shift, his head finally sinking into his pillow, “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

You roll onto your side and face him.

“For being tired after a long shift?”

He grumbles and you snuggle into him with your head laying on his bare chest. “It’s okay, I’m tired too,” you reassure him while stifling a yawn. He lays a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You both fall asleep within minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up in the morning you were expecting it to be the smell of coffee and not your boyfriend copping a feel. Your eyes flutter open to see Robby’s fingers carefully massaging your breasts under your shirt, gently pinching your nipples. All while pressing kisses down your neck.

His hardened cock rubs against you. You let out a tired laugh before turning to face him, “Well, good morning to you.”

He gives you a boyish grin. He watches as you climb on top of him. In the same position as last night. “Good morning, hon.”

Your fingers graze his bulge before giving it a squeeze, “You weren’t joking about trying for a baby right away.”

Robby shakes his head while biting his lip trying not to moan. Noticing the damp spot on your panties, his rough fingers brush against your clothed clit, “Not wasting any time.”

You let out a whimper. “P-Perfect.”

He slides your panties down and you awkwardly take them off before he takes his boxers off. His cock springs against his stomach. You lower your hips. Robby grips your hips once more and you gently begin to move. Your slickness now coating his thick member as your pussy slowly rubs up and down. Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a muffled moan when your clit brushes against his tip.

Robby throws his head back, “Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, “if you keep this up. I-I can’t cum in you.”

You nod. You don’t think you can form a sentence right now. Your body was on fire. Your hips lift as Robby guides himself to your entrance. You let out a whine at the same time Robby lets out a breathy moan as you slowly sink down on him. Every inch stretching you as if it’s your first time together again.

You slowly begin to move your hips up and down as you ride him. After a few seconds you feel yourself grow tired and slow down. Robby lets out a chuckle.

“Don’t laugh. I’m doing all the work, old man.” His fingers find your clit and gives it a soft pinch. You let out a shaky gasp. “Don’t be mean.” You warn.

Your hands scratch at his chest as his hips begin to thrust up meeting yours. The sounds coming from his mouth edge you closer to finishing.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Robby warns with a grunt. His hooded eyes staring at your blissful face. His thumb rubs small circles on your clit.

“Oh fuck, Michael- baby,” you whine as he speeds up his thumb motion.

After a few more thrusts, Robby cums inside you with a guttural moan. Your release follows shortly after, loudly moaning as you feel him cum. Your hips continue to grind, riding out your bliss.

Suddenly, you feel heavy as your orgasm bliss wears off. Your muscles screaming at you. Panting, you tiredly slump on top of Robby. He gently rubs your back still inside you. The two of you even your breathing.

You lay in comfortable silence as you listen to his heartbeat. Robby draws shapes on your back. The sun peaks through a crevice of the blackout curtains.

“I feel good about that one,” you joke, “Having two of me will be a handful for you.”

Getting a second wind, Robby flips you both over. Now smirking down at you on your back, “We should keep trying…just to be safe.”

[dreamersparacosm]

jeon jungkook - the price of desire (part one)

warnings ; none!

prompt ; in which you learn that your dignity has a price, and unfortunately, it looks a lot like Jeon Jungkook in Calvin Klein boxers.

note ; WELL WELL WELL my angels. we are back with ANOTHER series <3 i am not kidding, this story has had me tossing and turning and screaming and crying. they are such a nuanced duo(even more so than utcf) and if you know me, you know i only write characters that are flawed af and boy… do these two have flaws. also so excited bc my dream is to be a CMO so all that marketing jargon is literally ripped from my real life. this is def a slower burn more than utcf even was, so part one is just getting to know reader, a glimpse into jk and hers future dynamic. it will be giving cocky idol and grumpy girl boss reader… yall hate to see it.. anywho all your love and support is so appreciated and im SO excited to kick this one off <3

playlist here

series masterlist here

You learned at an early age that the world doesn’t hand power to people like you. You have to take it.

Born in Busan, raised in a home where every won had to stretch, you grew up with a hunger that never faded. Your parents worked tirelessly; it was long hours in dimly lit shops, silent tears in the living room over bills, doing everything they could to put food on the table. They wanted stability for you, a quiet life where everything was paid on time and there was no need to chase the impossible.

But you weren’t built for small dreams.

At 17, you won a coveted scholarship to a university in Seoul, a golden ticket out of the cycle that kept your family trapped. There, you became relentless. Top of your class, the kind of student professors whispered about, the one who never failed, never wavered. But no amount of late-night studying or overachieving could buy you the connections that children of chaebol heirs and international elites were born into.

So, you had to outwork them. By the time you graduated, you had one goal: to carve your name into an industry that had no place for you. You moved to America, leaving behind familiarity, comfort, and even your family, knowing that to rise, you had to go where power lived.

New York City became your battlefield.

You started at the bottom, fetching coffees, ghostwriting proposals, working eighteen-hour days just to prove you deserved to be in the same rooms as people who had never known struggle. You didn’t just climb the corporate ladder; you burned every rung behind you so there was no way back down.

It took a decade, but now the plaque hangs on the wall. The name plate rings true of all your dreams. You are the Chief Marketing Officer of Calvin Klein.

At 30, you sit at the helm of one of the most influential luxury brands in the world, the architect of campaigns that have redefined fashion and culture. Your name carries weight in boardrooms, your decisions shift global trends, and every executive in the industry knows you are untouchable.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

In a world like this, power is never permanent. The moment you hesitate, falter, let someone too close, they will take everything.

All that to say — Monday mornings in New York almost always smell like steel and ambition.

The skyline stretches endlessly beyond the glass walls of your office, the pulse of the city thrumming beneath you, yellow cabs blurring past, heels clicking against concrete, the quiet hum of wealth without ever making a sound. You barely had time to sleep after landing from Los Angeles last night, but exhaustion has never been an excuse.

You straighten your blazer, heels clicking against the marble floors as you stride into the Calvin Klein executive boardroom. The space is drenched in morning light, the Hudson River glinting in the distance, but there’s no warmth. Sharp minds and even sharper tongues, all waiting for you to take your seat at the head of the table.

“Let’s get started.” Your voice is crisp, cutting through the murmurs as the team scrambles to attention. Coffee cups are set down, postures shift. The room belongs to you now, like it always does.

This is your campaign, your bread and butter — the Fall Collection, one of the biggest of the year. And today, the decision needs to be made. Who will be the face of it? You’ve put it off as long as possible, especially after the last campaign that had you sleeping, eating and breathing the word ROI.

A junior executive clears his throat, flipping through a stack of polished portfolios. “We’ve compiled a list of potential candidates. Some of the usual names, established actors, a few models with strong followings…”

You take the folder from him, skimming past faces that blur into one another, all predictable choices, safe bets. Safe has never impressed you.

“We’re not looking for predictable,” you say, voice even. “We need someone who will shift the culture. Someone who doesn’t just wear the clothes, but makes people desperate to buy them.”

Silence. Then, the suggestions roll in. A high-profile supermodel. A rising actor from a Netflix hit. Some European footballer with global appeal.

You listen, nodding as they speak, but your silence is judgment. Each name is good but not enough. Polished and uninspired, in your opinion.

You shoot them down effortlessly. “No. We’ve used her before.

No. He doesn’t have the presence.

No. I don’t need another pretty face.”

The tension in the room grows. The team knows you expect brilliance, not silly little recycled ideas.

Then, your VP of Content leans forward, fingers steepled. “I have a name,” He says, measured, waiting for your reaction.

You lift a brow. “Then say it.”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

For the first time, there’s a halt of all noise. Light murmurs. Someone exhales sharply. You hear a scoff from the far end of the table.

“A Korean idol?” One of the senior execs frowns. “That’s a different market entirely.”

“Not just any idol,” your VP counters. “The biggest. Pretty much the frontman of BTS. His brand power is—”

“Unmatched,” You finish for him.

Because it is. Jeon Jungkook isn’t just a name, he’s a phenomenon. A face that sells out stadiums in minutes, a body carved in discipline, a force that transcends the music industry entirely.

Still, the pushback is immediate “Well, he’s never fronted a campaign of this scale.

Idol endorsements don’t always translate to luxury.

Do we want to take that kind of risk?”

Risk.

The word hangs in the air heavily. It should deter you. It should make you pause. But instead, you find yourself a tad intrigued.

What is Calvin Klein, if not bold? If not disruptive? The brand has always thrived on rebellion, on choosing icons that define eras rather than follow them.

Jeon Jungkook is undeniably that. Perhaps, so are you.

You let the murmurs settle before speaking. “What’s our engagement rate from the last campaign?” You ask, looking towards the analytics team.

“Thirty percent growth,” They answer immediately.

“And what’s BTS’s engagement on a single brand mention?”

A pause. A begrudging voice follows, “Higher.”

Exactly.

You glance around the room, seeing the uncertainty and hesitation. You’re about to give a speech greater than LeBron at the NBA Finals. You lean back in your chair, tapping a manicured nail against the armrest, already picturing it, the campaign, the impact, the sheer cultural shift this could create.

“I like it.”

Silence.

A ripple of realization moves through the room, as if with just three words, the decision has already been made.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Securing a global superstar isn’t an easy task, not even for you. The next few days are a relentless blur of negotiations, contract rewrites, and back-to-back Zoom calls with a team so notoriously meticulous it nearly drives your own to the brink of madness.

The stakes are high. Deals like this don’t just happen. They are built, fought for, and secured with precision. And Calvin Klein doesn’t like to lose.

Your office pretty much transforms into a war room. Tables littered with printed pitch decks. Screens glowing with data analytics, engagement metrics, and market predictions. Your executives pouring over legal clauses, revising them so every word is airtight.

In the center of it all, you stand. Any normal human would be threatened but at this point, you’ve gone full robot. You take every call personally. A negotiation of this scale is your battlefield, and you don’t delegate wars.

Jungkook, obviously, is never on the calls. It doesn’t surprise you. Artists at his level rarely handle the business side of things. That’s what agents, lawyers, and managers are for. His team is professional, unshaken even when you push hard.

Still, you know who he is.

Of course you do. You may have spent the last decade buried in boardrooms, but you were born in Busan. You grew up watching the Hallyu wave explode, and though you never had the time for it, your little sister devoured everything BTS.

You remember the way she would beg for concert tickets, how she’d fall asleep with headphones on, listening to their debut on loop. You used to tease her for it— why the fuck are you crying over an idol?

Funny, looking back at it now. Considering that idol’s contract is currently giving you a migraine.

His team is smart. They have demands, and they don’t bend easily. They want creative control over his campaign image. They want scheduling flexibility due to his commitments. They want Calvin Klein to align with Jungkook’s existing partnerships… list goes on.

All reasonable, but not easy. You fight for compromises, push for adjustments, rewrite proposals until every angle is optimized for success. At the end of the day, you know one thing: This deal is worth it.

And then, one morning, before you’ve even had a sip of your morning coffee, it happens. At exactly 7:14 AM, an email lands in your inbox.

SUBJECT: FINAL APPROVAL – JEON JUNGKOOK x CALVIN KLEIN

We are pleased to confirm Jeon Jungkook’s official partnership with Calvin Klein for the upcoming Fall Collection campaign. Thank you for your patience and professionalism throughout the negotiation process. We look forward to working together!

Your eyes flicker over the words. Once. Twice. Three times. Four times before you think you might pass out.

Slowly, a smile curves on your lips. You step out of your office, and before you can say anything, someone sees your expression and knows.

“We got him.”

The room erupts. Your team, overworked and barely running on caffeine, comes alive. Cheers echo through the space, hands slap against the table in triumph, tension melting into borderline euphoria.

They know what this means. This isn’t just a campaign. This is the kind of collaboration that will hopefully bring the brand back to the forefront of everyone’s minds and not in some TJMaxx aisle.

You let them celebrate. You don’t smile often, but today… today, you do.

Just when you think the victory high has settled, a package arrives later in the day for you. It’s a black envelope, embossed with gold lettering. No company branding. No assistant delivery. Just your name.

You open it carefully. Inside is a thick, cream-colored card with an unmistakable touch of handwritten ink.

Thank you for having me.
I’m looking forward to it.
—JJK

You stare at the writing for a beat too long. It’s clean, elegant, but slightly tilted, like the hand behind it didn’t care about perfection. The inked letters feel unexpectedly personal, almost at odds with the meticulous contracts you spent days battling over.

A small, teeny weeny little part of you does wonder… What kind of man is Jeon Jungkook when he’s not just a name on a contract?

You shake the thought away real quick. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that the deal is done.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Power has a way of softening the sharp edges of travel.

As Chief Marketing Officer, you rarely have to think about logistics. The world bends to accommodate you with first-class flights, black car service, five-star hotels with skyline views. When business demands your presence in another country, the details are handled before you even lift a finger.

This time is no different.

The moment Calvin Klein secured Jeon Jungkook, it became your responsibility to oversee the partnership firsthand. Deals of this magnitude require your attention, and no one executes anything better than you. So you fly to Korea, fly home. First class as always, because nothing less is expected.

The moment the plane lifts into the sky, you immerse yourself in Jeon Jungkook.

Not the man— you don’t know the man. His brand. The name that moves markets, the face that has sold out entire fashion lines with a single post, the lives that have cleaned out ramen packets in seconds.

Your screen is a kaleidoscope of him, any campaigns, endorsements, past collaborations. Streetwear in one ad, high fashion in another. His presence shifts effortlessly from youthful rebellion to refined masculinity. He is everything Calvin Klein thrives on, raw and provocative.

He’s perfect for this.

You land in Incheon to a city humming beneath dark light. Seoul is quieter than New York, but no less alive with neon signs flicker against sleek glass buildings, the scent of rain and street food hugging the air.

A black car waits for you at the terminal, an assistant from Calvin Klein’s Seoul office greeting you with a polite bow. The ride into the city is smooth, the world shifting past in a blur of muted grays and bright LED screens. Your body is exhausted, but your mind stays sharp.

Tomorrow is the first meeting. You should be thinking about logistics. Contractual points that still need finalizing. The creative vision. The structure of the campaign. But as your car glides past Itaewon’s winding streets, past districts that are both familiar and foreign, you think of something else. You haven’t called home in a while.

You keep telling yourself you’ve been busy with deadlines, meetings, strategy decks stacked higher than your appetite for guilt, but deep down, you know the truth.

You haven’t called because you don’t know how to explain it. How success swallowed you whole, how you traded in your accent for sharper vowels, your mother’s cooking for room service, the comfort of home for the cold glass walls of boardrooms.

What would you even say?

Hi, I made it. I’m tired. I miss you. I don’t know who I am anymore.

It still is the least of your concerns when you arrive to your destination.

Your hotel is one of Seoul’s finest, very discreet, a haven of understated luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the skyline, and the quiet hum of a jazz playlist fills the suite when you enter.

You shrug off your coat, kicking off your heels, stretching out the tension of the flight. Your mind wanders a little as you pour your nightly glass of wine out; you will meet Jeon Jungkook tomorrow. It’s an odd feeling, seeing as you’ve met more celebrities in your life than you can count. You’d be a horrible liar , though, if you said you weren’t the least bit curious.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You wake before your alarm, the hush of Seoul stretching beyond the glass windows of your suite. The city moves gently at this hour before the rush, before the weight of the day settles onto its spine. For a moment, you allow yourself to breathe.

Discipline has always been your armor. You move through the motions with practiced ease, a cold rinse to shake off the last remnants of jet lag, a serum smoothed over skin (Laneige is the only right answer), a swipe of rouge on lips.

And today, more than ever, you need to be impeccable.

Your suit is white, tailored, almost impossible to ignore. It is a statement and a reminder that you are the architect of success.

However, when you step into the elevator, riding down to meet your driver, a flicker of something you haven’t felt in eons settles in your chest.

Nerves.

Not because you haven’t done this before. You have. You’ve met Hollywood A-listers, supermodels draped in couture, billionaires who own entire industries. You’ve handled them all.

It’s just… he does oddly remind you of home in some silly way.

You exit the hotel with the cool breeze of the morning air wrapping around you, the weight of the city’s movement already filling the space between you and the office. The car ride is smooth, twin reflections of New York’s controlled chaos and the quieter energy of Seoul. You barely notice the time passing as you mentally run through the agenda for the day, but there’s something about the looming meeting that sits heavier on your mind than it should.

The Calvin Klein Seoul office is small, nothing like the flagship headquarters in New York. The building is sleek but understated, a space that exists more for logistics than spectacle.

The moment you walk through the glass doors, the energy is so off. Your VP of International Marketing, a sharp-eyed executive named Daniel, greets you immediately. He is already speaking before you’ve fully crossed the threshold or even taken a breath of the office air.

“Everything’s set,” he says, handing you a sleek black folder. “Jungkook’s team will be here in twenty.”

You take the folder, skimming over the notes. “Any last-minute adjustments?”

“A few,” Daniel admits. “His schedule is tighter than expected, so we may need to shift some of the shoot days. And… his team wants final approval on every creative decision.”

You glance up at him, arching a brow. “They don’t trust us?”

“They trust us,” Daniel says, lips twitching. “They just trust him more.”

Fair. You figured they would play dirty at some point.

You nod, flipping the folder shut. “We’ll make it work.”

Daniel studies you for a beat, then smirks. “You nervous?”

You don’t hesitate. “No.”

You’re not. Not exactly. But as you settle into the conference room, as the clock ticks down to his arrival, you can’t shake the deadweight sitting on your chest. There’s not really a reason to be nervous, but suddenly, the fact that you sit at the head of the desk taunts you. It feels too official,, like every choice you’ve ever made has led to this exact chair, under these lights, and now everyone’s watching.

Daniel chuckles, stepping in behind you. “No need to act cool about it. I mean, dude is literally the most famous guy out there right now.”

You glance up at him. “Right,” you reply, settling into a chair at the table. “Do I give off fangirl vibes?”

“Fair play,” Daniel admits with a smirk. “It is also just business. He’s a client like any other.”

You raise an eyebrow, his words hanging in the air. “Sure,” you say, but something about the way you says it doesn’t quite feel right.

Daniel leans against the conference table, watching you with an expression that borders on amusement “So,” he muses, “are you ready to meet him, or are we keeping up this whole pretend you don’t care act the entire time?”

You shoot him a flat look, arms crossed. “I don’t pretend.”

He smirks. “Right. You just happen to be checking your watch every five seconds like we’re waiting for the President of South Korea.”

You exhale sharply, smoothing out an invisible crease in your sleeve. “You know I don’t care about the celebrity. I care about if my boss is happy.”

Daniel hums, unconvinced. “Riiiiight.” He tilts his head, watching you for another beat before flipping open a portfolio. “Alright, boss, walk me through it one more time. We’re running with the—“

Before he can finish, a soft knock at the door interrupts. The secretary peeks her head in, voice all smooth and professional. “He’s here.”

The words settle over the room. Daniel straightens up, giving you one last knowing glance before both of you move toward the head of the conference table. Your posture is perfect, composed, the picture of an executive who has done this a hundred times. Yet, for some reason, your palms are a little sweaty.

The door opens. A quiet hum of conversation drifts in first, footsteps soft against polished floors. And then, he steps through.

The first thing you notice is that he is not what you expected. Or maybe, he is exactly what you expected. Tall, poised, effortlessly self-assured. He moves like someone accustomed to attention, yet unaffected by it, a presence that doesn’t need to demand the room because it already bends to him.

He is dressed in black from head to toe. Black jeans, a crisp button-up slightly unfastened at the top, revealing the barest hint of a toned chest beneath the collar. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing a canvas of tattoos that swirl down one of his arms. Dark hair falls just over his brows, parted slightly. His skin is flawless, his lips full and plush, but it’s his round eyes that capture you first.

He has piercings, small silver hoops glinting in his ears, the metal just barely catching the light. And then, as he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, you notice it, the piercing there, too.

You inhale, the moment stretching far too long.

Jungkook’s team follows behind him, a carefully curated group of managers, assistants, and legal representatives. They all exude efficiency, dressed in business casual

Jungkook is not corporate. He is the complete fucking polar opposite of it. And yet, as he steps forward, his expression shifts, a polite smile.

He greets everyone kindly, taking the time to nod toward the executives flanking the room, shaking hands, offering soft pleasantries.

You are still staring. For the first time in your career, you cannot decide if the man standing before you is a masterpiece to be marketed or a storm brewing.

You need to get a grip on reality.

Jungkook’s gaze is assessing, but you don’t let it linger. Years of discipline have trained you to absorb impact, analyze it, and move forward. So you shift your attention to the team standing behind him, your posture sharpening as you step forward.

“Good morning,” you say smoothly, extending a hand to the first of his representatives. “I appreciate you all taking the time to meet today.”

His manager steps forward first, shaking your hand firmly. “Of course. We’ve been looking forward to this partnership.”

One by one, you go through the motions, firm grips, polite smiles, nods exchanged. These are the gatekeepers, the ones who make the real decisions behind the scenes. You commit each of their names to memory, cataloging their expressions, their temperaments.

You turn lastly to Jungkook, your expression unreadable. His lips are still curled in a faint smile, but you keep your own face neutral. Instead, you bow, just a crisp nod of acknowledgment.

"Jeon Jungkook-ssi," you say, voice poised. "It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

When you straighten, you see it, the flicker of amusement crossing his face. He tilts his head, tongue pressing briefly against the inside of his cheek before speaking. “The bow? That’s formal. Are we at a company dinner?”

A few quiet chuckles from his team. You refuse to laugh. Your expression remains steady, composed. “It’s standard when meeting someone for the first time.”

Jungkook watches you for a beat longer, as if testing to see if he can break through that calm exterior. But when you don’t waver, he simply lets out a quiet hmm, not quite disappointed or impressed.

“Now, let’s get started.” You step toward the table, signaling the meeting’s shift into motion. “We have a lot to go over, and I want to make sure we’re aligned on the creative direction before we finalize schedules.”

Jungkook’s team follows, the atmosphere shifting from introductions to strategy.

“As I’m sure you’re aware,” you continue, placing a sleek, black folder on the table, “this campaign is projected to be one of Calvin Klein’s biggest of the year. Our goal isn’t just to market a collection, we want to shape a cultural moment. With Jungkook’s presence, we have the ability to move beyond traditional advertising and into something far more influential.”

You feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, but you don’t acknowledge it. Instead, you focus on his team, keeping your voice measured and confident. “I know negotiations took time, but I want to personally express my excitement for this collaboration. We’re not here to simply slap a face on some storefronts… we’re here to build something iconic.”

Jungkook leans back in his chair, arms resting casually against the armrests. “Iconic, huh?”

You glance at him for a second. “That’s the standard.”

The meeting stretches into deep discussions and strategic analysis, the campaign unfolding across the polished mahogany of the conference table. You lead with precision, breaking down creative direction, discussing visual aesthetics, mapping out timelines with a ruthless efficiency.

Jungkook listens. Not just politely, not just because he has to, but the man actually listens.

You notice it in the way his eyes sharpen when you speak, the occasional flick of his gaze to the proposal documents, the way he leans forward slightly when something actually interests him.

“So, to sum it all up,” you continue, flipping a page, “this campaign will lean into Calvin Klein’s signature branding but with a more modernized edge. We’re emphasizing raw masculinity, effortless sensuality—”

“Effortless?” Jungkook interrupts smoothly in a teasing tone. “That’s an interesting way to put it.”

You look up. “You disagree?”

He tilts his head, considering. “I wouldn’t call it effortless.”

His voice is casual, but something in it makes the room halt slightly. You set your pen down. “Then what would you call it?”

Jungkook lets the silence breathe, holding your gaze a second longer than necessary. His team shifts slightly, waiting for his response. He smiles “Intentional.”

You hold his gaze for a moment before nodding. “Fair point.”

His lips twitch, like he wasn’t expecting you to concede so easily. But before the exchange lingers, you move forward. “We’ll finalize creative direction by next week. In the meantime, we’ll align schedules for fittings and shoot dates…”

By the time lunch rolls around, the energy in the room loosens slightly. It’s quite clear everyone is exhausted and would rather be two courses deep into a meal now. Jungkook’s team begins gathering their things, murmuring about reservations at a nearby restaurant. Daniel gives you a glance, knowing better than to invite you along.

You never take breaks.

As the last few executives file out, you remain in your seat, flipping through campaign notes, already highlighting sections for revision. The door closes behind them, leaving you alone in the quiet of the conference room.

You barely have a minute to yourself before a soft knock echoes through the space. You glance up, expecting Daniel, but instead… Jungkook.

He lingers in the doorway, one hand braced against the frame, the other tucked into the pocket of his jeans. His expression is unreadable, but he’s unmistakably casual in the way he stands there, like he has all the time in the world. “Mind if I come in?”

You hesitate. You have no idea why. It’s not that uncommon to be friendly with the campaign faces. You actually really liked working with Kendall Jenner, with her even inviting you to her home in Calabasas.

You study him for a moment, the way he leans against the doorframe, his presence too large for the quiet of the conference room. With bated breath, you gesture toward the chair across from you. “Suit yourself.”

Jungkook steps inside, the soft click of the door closing behind him echoing in the empty space. His gaze flickers over the neatly stacked papers, the highlighted notes, the sleek silver pen in your hand.

“You don’t take breaks?” He questions innocently, lowering himself into the chair.

“I don’t have time for them. And I assume you don’t either, considering you’re here instead of at lunch with your team,” You retort.

Jungkook hums, tilting his head slightly. “Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d actually crack a smile once everyone left.”

A slow, teasing grin tugs at his lips. “So far, not looking too good.”

You exhale through your nose, unimpressed. “Was there something you needed?”

Jungkook leans back, the crisp fabric of his shirt stretching over his frame. He looks at you, not in the way men usually do, not with arrogance or expectation, but with a calculated curiosity. “You don’t like me very much, do you?”

Great. You have an observer on your hands.

You blink once. “I don’t have to like you. Not in my job description, unfortunately. ”

His grin widens, slow and deliberate. “So cold. I think I like it.”

Your jaw tenses, but only slightly. He catches it. Most people flinch under scrutiny, but you don’t. You don’t shift, don’t fumble, don’t drop your gaze. Instead, you meet his stare with the same measured indifference you give to 55-year old men.

“Flirting with me won’t get you special treatment.” Your voice is detached, cool as a cucumber.

Jungkook lets out a quiet laugh, “Who said I was flirting?”

Your lips press into a thin line.

“Don’t worry,” he continues, propping an elbow on the armrest, “I don’t expect special treatment. Just the best. And from what I’ve seen so far…” he nods toward your documents, “…you don’t settle for anything less either.”

You don’t reply, but he’s hit the mark. Jungkook studies you for another beat, his gaze dipping, taking you apart piece by piece and seemingly trying to understand what makes you tick.

You hate to admit it, but he’s sharper than you expected. Most people in his position come into these meetings as faces, not minds. They sign the contracts, smile for the cameras, let their teams do the thinking.

You click your pen once. “If that’s all, I have work to do.”

Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then moves a tad closer, just slightly, enough for you to catch the faint scent of expensive cologne, something clean and subtly musky.

His voice dips lower, softer now, but no less assured. “Tell me, do you always bet on things you know you’ll win?”

Your fingers still against the table. You set your pen down with deliberate precision, tilting your head slightly. “Only when the stakes are worth it.”

Jungkook’s mouth twitches, not quite a smile. The thing you’ll come to learn about Jungkook is this: the man cannot back down from a challenge. He loves games. Always has

It’s how he got here in the first place. Grit, obsession, the refusal to lose. Every accolade, every headline, every billboard was earned not just through talent, but by the sheer thrill of the chase.

Truth be told, he’s a little.. intrigued, in some weird way. To put it in even more cliche terms, you look like trouble.

And… well, Jungkook has always had a thing for playing with fire.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

taglist ; @lovingkoalaface @maybetheproblemisme @mimi1097 @mar-lo-pap @mysjammy @yooniepot @tinytan-gerine @ashslight @sky-23s-world @myzzysstuff @elinaki92 @7fever @munchkin-kitty7-blog @koofleur @jjkluver7 @coletaehyung @jkxlvrr @amarawayne @kooslilhoe @bangchanwantsmesobad @kpopslur @senaqsstuff @sugakookies77 @tteokbokibyjk @emmie2308 @neurospicynugget @prxdajeon @majesticjung-97

[ifwdominicfike]

you punish matt by making him watch you get yourself off while he can’t touch you.

── .✦. ──

“pl-please.. i’ll be g-good this time, promise!” matts whimpers can be heard throughout the whole apartment, while you watch with a faux sympathetic look on your face. “maybe if you weren’t such a fucking brat and talked back then you’d be able to touch me, yeah?” you begin to scoot further down the bed, creating an out of reach distance so he can’t touch you.

ever since this morning matt has had an attitude with you and usually you could handle it and see what was going on with him but today he wasn’t letting up. all day he had been shooting you looks and snarky remarks and you were just fed up with it. you needed to put him in his place.

“noo, no please! d-didn’t mean it mommy — m’sorry..” tears had begin to form in his eyes and you haven’t even started yet, you laugh in his face and start to slip off the lacy panties. “save it, just shhh” you stuff your panties in his mouth and go back to your spot, his eyes widen at the sudden gesture and his wrists tug at the handcuffs that are connected to the bed board. he gives you his best puppy eyes and starts to buck his hips up, silently letting you know what he needed.

his gaze singles down to your fingers slipping in and out of your dripping pussy, he throws his head back and whines. only muffled cries and pleads are heard from him, he can’t even look at you for that long — thinking that if he does he’ll come on the spot. “ooh- shit! y’like watching mommy fuck herself hm? fucking pathetic boy, look at you already leaking.” you head nudges to the wet patched on his crotch, your pace getting and faster and faster and his cries are only getting louder.

“such a fucking cry baby, all for some pussy? you’re pathetic baby” tears stream down his face and his hips begin to buck up more, desperately trying to find a way to get any kind of relief. “f-fuck baby — m’gonna come! mommy’s gonna come for you sweet boy!” your eyes roll to the back of your head as you reach your high, loud moans fill the room and hand starts to slow down. after a second of laying there and catching your breath you shift over to matt and swap the spot soaked panties out of his mouth for your soaked finger.

he desperately takes them in his mouth and sucks them clean, until he lets out a loud whimper and closes his eyes tight. you look down to see that he had came from just the taste you — you smile and slip your fingers further down his throat. “m’gonna have so much fun with you, my needy baby..”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

this is lowk FREAKYYY (well for me when i write tbh..) I LOVE SUB MATT I NEED SUB MATT SO BADDDD. i also kinda hate this but like wtv?? I WILL TRY TO POST MORE IM SORRY FOR THE LACK OF FICS </33

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @ellaapsworld @chrissv4mp @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @submattenthusiast @flouvela @sturniolosiphone @chrislova @sophand4n4 @mattsfavoritestar @mattslolita @y3sterdaysproblem @strnilolover @cayleeuhithinknott @cherrynflowergarden @sturnsmia @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @chaossturns @emely9274 @sturn777 @sturns-mermaid @st7rnioioss @mattybsgroupie

[slttygeto]

to love you is to grow old with you - GOJO. S

synopsis: satoru learns to appreciate the little things in life thanks to you.

c.w: just tooth rotting fluff, wrote this w fem! reader on mind but there are no gendered terms, physical touch being gojo’s love language, slow mornings with pookie bear himself, he deserves all the love.

note: im on a ROLL.

to age is such a blessing and a privilege in itself, and gojo only learns how much he loves it when he notices it on you. it’s not too obvious, he never points it out to you, but over the past couple of years of dating you, he’s noticed a few changes in you, all positive.

your smile lines have gotten deeper with him around, and when he stands in front of the bathroom mirror first thing in the morning to wash his face while you were still fast asleep, he notices how his own dimples have gotten more prominent. he glances at your skin care products and although he appreciates how much you take care of yourself, he is not looking forward for the day where you start buying “anti-aging” cremes or face masks.

he wants the full experience with you, and for the very first time, gojo wants to live for a long time and is certain that he wants to die with you next to him. he doesn’t fear death, he knows it’s inevitable, but something about dying in a boring manner has always irked him—until he met you.

now he doesn’t mind if he gets sick, because he knows you will be there to take care of him. he doesn’t mind when he gets fevers because he knows you’d immediately notice based on his reddened face and would quickly but surely treat his fever and ask him to lie down and be careful, as if the man wasn’t the strongest himself.

he finds himself so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice when you start waking up from sleep and your first instinct is to look for him.

“satoru?” you call out sleepily and satoru snaps out of his thoughts and walks towards your bedroom.

“oh look who’s awake.” he grins when he sees the sleep lines on your arm and face. his hand goes towards your hair as he takes a seat at the edge of the bed and strokes it before leaning in a planting a kiss to your forehead.

“did you sleep well?” he mumbles against your forehead before planting another kiss. “any dreams of me?” another kiss to your nose. “did i look handsome in them?” and another on your cheek before going down to your neck. “were you always my pretty girl in them?” he mumbles against your pulse and you giggle at the ticklish feeling.

“satoruuu,” you whine out loud. “I just woke up,” your hand rests on top of his head when he keeps peppering kisses all over your neck.

“and plus, what were you doing in the bathroom just staring at yourself?” your fingers scratch his scalp and the man immediately melts on top of you, making you lie back down on the mattress.

“i think i changed my mind about aging,” he replies and your other hand rests on the back of his neck before sliding upwards to feel his undercut and scratch the hair there as well.

“changed your mind how?” you feel the man wrap his arms around your middle and pull you tightly towards him. he pushes his face down and plants it on your chest, enjoying the way he gets to hear your heartbeat that seems to have a nice rhythm to it.

“i wanna grow old as long as i get to do it with you,” he mumbles again and his arms unwrap from your middle and you watch as his hands push up the shirt you were wearing to kiss your stomach. “i want us to get wrinkly and ugly together,”

“you can never be ugly,” you say as you roll your eyes at your man but he strongly disagrees and pinches your sides.

“my hairline is receding.”

“please stop taking what nobara tells you so seriously,” you chuckle at how serious he is and a hand rests on his cheek. “in my eyes, you can never be ugly.”

“even when I forget to put my socks in the laundry basket and accidentally use your shower gel?”

“you’re only ugly when you do that.”

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[loveluvrs]

heaven l lando norris x reader

request/summary – reader being clingy with lando in the mornings

author's notes – a little blurb while im doing finals. please keep sending me requests!!!

I groan as I reach around for Lando in bed, but feel nothing. I open my eyes, just barely, to see that his side of his bed has the blanket pushed to the side, an empty space where my boyfriend usually is. With a sigh, I sit up in bed, putting on my glasses. I drag my feet outside his room to find him humming in the kitchen. 

I sit on the kitchen counter next to where he’s working. His face lights up and he gives me a big smile. “Morning, baby,” he says in that raspy morning voice of his, “‘m making pancakes for us. That okay?”

“More than okay,” I say softly with a hum. I reach out my arms towards him to signal for a hug. He immediately paused what he was doing as he came over to stand between where my legs were swinging, his arms wrapping around my waist as he leans in for a hug. “Did you sleep well?” He asked softly since he knew about my all too frequent sleeping problems. 

I hummed in response. “Yeah, I did since you were there. I love you,” I say softly with a contented sigh. “I love you too,” he says softly as he gives me a squeeze in the hug before letting go, placing a kiss on my forehead. I pout as he goes back to making the batter for the pancakes. “Lan,” I say with a whine, “come back, I want more time with you.”

He laughs. “Love, would you rather get your hug a few minutes later or would you rather us starve because I was too busy giving you a hug?” He asks playfully. “Starve,” I say with a deadpan expression. He scoffs and playfully rolls his eyes at my answer as he says “you’re so annoying.” I giggle. “Yeah but you love me for it,” I tease, “now let’s go, you owe me my morning cuddles. I’ll help you finish the pancakes later.”

He reluctantly caves in, only because I had a pout on my face that he absolutely could never refuse. He tucks himself into bed, his arms open to wrap around me. I scoot in close to him, my head in his chest as he places a kiss on the top of my head. His hand runs through my hair as we settle into a comfortable silence. 

“You’re so beautiful, seriously,” he says in a quiet whisper, in awe of the sigh in front of him. He could see his beautiful girlfriend, all messy and tired and sleepy, wearing one of his hoodies, with the light streaming in from outside perfectly catching onto her hazel eyes and lighting up her whole face. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of this, even heaven might be a letdown compared to this,” he says lovingly as he pulls me up into a kiss. “You’re a sweetheart, and also too far head over heels for me,” I tease softly. He hums with a bright smile. “Only for you, baby,” he says with a loving look. A look that made my insides melt and made me want to stay in this moment for the rest of my life. I could miss out on everything else and it wouldn’t matter, not when I had the love of my life here with me. 

I giggle at his cheesy words and Lando felt like his heart might burst at the sound, his favorite sound, from his favorite person. He looked into the same beautiful eyes he’d been seeing for three years now, with the way he loved it when his girl’s eyes lit up and cirinkled every time she laughed and smiled. That smile of yours, god, he could see only that for the rest of his life and he wouldn’t ever complain. In fact, it was at this moment he realize he did want to see only that for the rest of his life, from the only girl he’d want to spend forever with. 

[zarameraki]

⁺✩₊📨˚✧ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐝 ⋆｡💵₊✩°

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x assistant 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 loved you for so long 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nanami's first time 𖥔 you talk him through it 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔

: ̗̀➛ words: 5.6k

: ̗̀➛ notes: hey all! sorry for the inactivity. im got reality to handle as well. i promise ill be more active soon. the creativity juices are running on low fuel atm. thanks for all the love and support you have have given me. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!

Nanami couldn’t focus on the meeting.

He never could when you were in attendance, sitting off to the side, diligently jotting notes. His eyes flicked back and forth from the powerpoint presentation to the strand of hair bothering you despite tucking it behind your ear thirty-seven times.

Yes, he was keeping count. 

His dick constrained against his pants when you bit the end of your pen between your teeth, getting a bit of your red lipstick smeared around the tool. He wished he was that pen, with the mark of your lips on his skin instead. He even wished he was your tea mug sometimes. 

Jesus, something was terribly wrong with him. You were wrong for him. He was your boss; you were his assistant. Your relationship was strictly professional—has been for three years now. Three torturous years of admiring you from the sidelines. Three torturous years of hearing you yap about going on dates with random men off the internet. Three torturous years of chafing his dick in the bathroom every morning, noon, and night to the thought of you. 

Your scent, your breaths, your skin, your hair, your eyes, your mouth—God, he loved your mouth—especially when it moved and produced the loveliest sound he’s ever heard. He wanted nothing more than to print you onto his skin for the rest of his life. 

Nanami scowled at the silver-haired intern who kept side-eyeing your cleavage. If only it weren’t for that bastard. Firing him crossed his mind every time he popped up like a weasel, but Nanami needed a solid reason. 

“—that’s alright with you, Mr. Nanami?” 

Nanami’s attention snapped back to the presenter. What was he speaking about? Budget? Strategies for the future? Increases in revenue? Whatever it was, Nanami had one answer. “Yes.” 

“Lovely, we’ll go ahead with the renovations for our research and development department. They’ll be happy to know their resources are being updated!” 

Ah. Well, either way, he could care less. Whatever made his employees happy, he wasn’t afraid to spend a pretty penny. That’s why Nanami Kento was universally loved by everyone. Even his enemies—if he had any to begin with—would be his allies. He didn’t often put himself on the pedestal, but he does admit every now and then, he was a jack of all trades. 

“That was a satisfying meeting, wasn’t it?” you chirped as you both entered the elevator. Nanami caught sight of the silver-serpent catching up and jabbed the button to close the doors. 

Unfortunately, the intern pushed his hand in between and laughed in an annoying sound he called a voice, sending a twitch in Nanami’s eyes. 

“Oh, Satoru!” you greeted, standing closer to his side. 

“Boss,” Satoru said to Nanami, then turned to you, whispering, “Beautiful,” loud enough for him to hear. 

You snorted, waving a hand. “Oh, stop it. I hope the meeting wasn’t too much for you. Lots of changes we’ve made for the fiscal year, huh?” 

Nanami stared bored at the closed doors with the two behind him. 

“You made it easier,” Satoru replied. 

“Were you copying my notes?” 

“Come on, sweetheart. This is corporate. Not college. A little cheating hurts nobody.” 

Nanami heard your uncomfortable chuckle and clenched his fists tight. The word ‘cheating’ was a trigger for you. Your last relationship ended with your boyfriend of three months sleeping with your friend simply because she had more money and didn’t work for someone. Nanami was sure you’d quit and almost placed an offer to give you a proper role in the company, but you brushed it all off by stating how much you cherished being his assistant. He’d fallen madly, madly in love with you. He knew when he’d make you his wife, you’d be the boss. 

“That’s my floor,” Satoru announced. “Let’s do dinner soon, yeah?” 

You simply nodded. 

“Always a pleasure meeting the man of the hour,” the silver-ass said to Nanami before exiting. 

You stepped up to your boss’ side, sighing. “He just doesn’t know when to give up. It’s almost adorable.” 

“I believe ‘agitating’ is the word you’re looking for.” 

You laughed it off. Nanami didn’t think he was particularly a funny guy until he met you. “Satoru’s harmless.”  

“Will you, though?” he asked, clearing his throat. “Go to dinner with him?” 

You glanced up at Nanami, and smiled. He stared straight ahead with a tight tick in his jaw. Your smile broadened. “I’d love to,” you replied, finding his body tense, “but not with him.” 

Nanami slowly dragged his eyes down to you. Your blinks were slow, weighed down by the thickness of your long lashes. His eyes dipped to your lips, then back to your gaze. “Well, I hope you do with someone. Dinner is an important meal of the day.” 

He was an idiot. 

“That’s surprising coming from you, Mr. Nanami.” 

“How so?” 

You shrugged lightly, eyes twinkling. “I’ve never seen you eat dinner, let alone leave the office around that time.”

Nanami adjusted his tie, feeling a bit self-conscious. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to take the plunge. “Well, maybe we should change that.”

Your eyebrow arched slightly, curiosity piqued. “Change what?”

“Since you’re staying late to catch up on work,” he said, his voice steadying, “how about we have dinner here together?”

You paused, surprise flashing across your face before you smiled warmly. “That sounds nice. I could use a break, and it’s been a long day.”

Relief washed over him, and he allowed himself to smile back. “Great. I’ll order something for us. Any preferences?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “I’m fine with anything, Mr. Nanami.”

“Please, call me Kento,” he said softly.

“All right, Kento,” you replied, your tone gentle. “Thank you.”

As he walked out of the elevator, he felt a sense of accomplishment and, perhaps, excitement—an emotion he’d felt strictly in your presence. It wasn’t a grand romantic gesture, but it was a step in the right direction. Tonight, you were his, even if only for a little while. And maybe, just maybe, he'd find the courage to tell you how he really felt.

As the morning passed, he buried himself in his work, but his mind constantly wandered. Every so often, he'd steal a glance in your direction, watching you as you diligently typed away on your computer or answered phone calls. There was something about the way you moved, the way you smiled even when you were focused, that captivated him completely.

Around mid-morning, Nanami's concentration was broken when a male worker from another department walked over to your desk. He was carrying a file, but instead of simply dropping it off, he started chatting with you. The man was smiling, clearly enjoying the conversation. Nanami's grip on his pen tightened as he watched the interaction unfold.

The male worker leaned casually against your desk, making you laugh at something he said. Nanami's heart pounded in his chest. He hated how easy it was for others to make you smile like that. He felt a pang of jealousy, a possessive urge to step in and assert that you were his . . . though you didn't know it yet.

As the conversation continued, you glanced up and caught Nanami staring. Your eyes met, and you smiled softly at him. He quickly looked away, feeling a rush of embarrassment and anger at himself for being so obvious. His face felt hot, and he cursed under his breath, trying to refocus on his work.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion. Nanami found it hard to concentrate, his mind continually drifting back to you. He tried to remind himself that he needed to be professional, but it was a losing battle. Every time he heard your laugh or saw your smile, his heart ached with a mixture of longing and possessiveness.

The evening had grown quiet, with the soft hum of office equipment and the distant sounds of the city outside. When the delivery boy finally arrived, Nanami stood up and walked over to meet him.

“Oh, I’ve got it!” you said, standing from your seat and taking out your credit card.

Nanami tapped his card without a second thought; he’d always be willing to pay for anything when it came to you.

“Sir, this was going to be my treat.”

“Next time,” he replied. 

You smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Next time, it is.” 

He led the way to his office, opening the door for you. You set the food out on the table, and for a moment, there was an awkward silence as you both settled onto the sofa.

Nanami cleared his throat. “I hope you like what I ordered. I wasn’t sure what you preferred, so I got a bit of everything.”

You smiled warmly, appreciating his thoughtfulness. “This looks great. Thank you.”

You began eating, the silence stretching between you both. Nanami felt frustrated at himself. You’ve worked for him for three years and he still couldn’t harness the ability of speaking to you casually. He wanted to make conversation, to make this moment more comfortable, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. He glanced at you, watching as you took a bite and then met his gaze.

“This is really good,” you said, breaking the silence. “I didn’t realise how hungry I was.”

He smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. “I’m glad you like it.”

You continued eating, the silence now less awkward and more companionable. Nanami stole glances at you, noting the way you enjoyed the food, the way your eyes sparkled even in the dim office light. 

When the last bites were eaten and the containers cleared away, you leaned back in your chair, looking content. “Thank you for this. It was really nice.”

He smiled softly, his heart full. “Anytime. I’m glad we could do this.”

“About damn time,” you muttered. 

Nanami blinked. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, realizing what slipped your mouth. “Mr. Nanami— I— I only meant that—” You surrendered with a sigh, running your fingers through your hair. “Damn it.” 

Licking his lips, Nanami shook his leg anxiously, wondering what exactly you’d meant. Were you wanting to have dinner with him for a while now? A platonic dinner? Or was it, and he could be entirely wrong, more? Were you perhaps . . . also rowing the same boat as him? 

“I should’ve extended an invitation a while ago,” Nanami whispered.

Your eyes locked with his.

“Three years ago, to be exact,” he continued, awaiting your reaction. “In an intimate sense. Or professional, if that’s what you’d prefer. I’m happy either way. Unless this has made you uncomfortable—”

“Kento.”

He stopped to catch his breath. “Yes?”

You reached out and rested your hand on his knee, your eyes moving from his body to his face. “Next time, like you mentioned, can I treat you to dinner at my place?” The caress of your thumb set him aflame—a tiny gesture, yet powerful. “Unless it makes you uncomfor—”

Nanami cupped the back of your head and pulled you into a feverish kiss. He moaned at the first touch, savoring the sweet taste of you, the smoothness of your lips, and the sweep of your tongue against his. He didn’t dare break the kiss, tugging you out of your chair and onto his firm lap. His mouth was everywhere—your jaw, your neck, your collarbones—as he deftly unbuttoned your blouse. He was a madman, lost in the moment.

“I’ll do it,” you chuckled as he fumbled with the clasp of your bra. “I didn’t peg you for an inexperienced man.”

“I’ve been saving myself for—”

“The right woman?” you snorted.

“For you,” he stated firmly, cupping your cheek. “The last three years have been agonising. Whenever you’re near, I can’t focus. Whenever you laugh, I can’t breathe. Whenever some other bastard tries to flirt with you, my sanity chips away until all I want to do is take you away. Mark you as mine.” His possessiveness sent a shiver down your spine, making your back arch. “That’s exactly what I’ll do tonight. Is that okay with you?”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded. “More than.”

“You always know the right thing to say.” He smiled against your lips, slipping off your bra in the process. Through the kiss, you guided his hand to your breast. Just because he was inexperienced didn’t mean you were. Nanami should know by now that you had a little zest in you. “Like this, darling?”

You sighed as he pinched your nipples, his eyes marvelling at the sight of your breasts. “Yeah. You can put your mouth on them, too.”

His lips latched onto your left nipple swiftly. Your fingers buried themselves in the back of his hair as your hips ground against his erection while he nibbled and sucked on your breasts. He left them sore and bruised, kissing his way up to your collarbones, neck, and finally, your desperate lips.

Nanami picked you up with one arm, using the other to swipe whatever papers were on the table onto the floor.

“There are important contracts in there, Mr. Nanami,” you said as he laid you back onto the mahogany surface. “Don’t expect me to clean it up in the morning.”

“You’re the most important thing right now and always,” he replied, loosening his tie and tossing it over his shoulder. “And you will call me by my first name in private.”

You raised an eyebrow, relishing the sight of him slowly exposing his torso, button by button. “Yes, Kento.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, shrugging off his dress shirt and draping himself over you, his fingers gently closing around your neck as he kissed you deeply. “It must be exhausting walking in a tight skirt all day,” he whispered against your lips, finding the zipper of your pencil skirt and lowering it slowly. “If you want, I can change the dress code for my favourite assistant.”

“I’m your only assistant,” you said, letting him remove your skirt. “And I like my tight skirts, thank you very much.”

“I don’t like how the men stare at your back.”

“Sue me for having a perfect ass.”

He shrugged. “You have my lawyer’s contact number.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, which he immediately stole with another kiss. You locked your arms around his neck. “If wearing tight clothes gets me incentives like this, I’ll do it every day.”

He narrowed his brown eyes. “I can’t control your wardrobe choices.” His fingers trailed down your left breast, making your breath hitch as he grazed your sensitive nipples, then continued down to your stomach and under your panties. “But I have full control over your body tonight, yes?”

You pecked his lips. “Absolutely.” 

Nanami wasn’t quite rubbing your clit—it felt rather ticklish. “You’re making a face. Am I doing something wrong, darling?” 

“Not exactly.” You found his hand between your legs and lifted it higher, pressing his fingers directly onto your clit. It was embarrassing how wet you already were. “Rub here.” 

He rubbed there, and you took in a shuddering breath, nodding to encourage him to keep fucking me with those skilled fingers, Nanami Kento—fingers you had admired far too often, especially when he performed pen tricks with them.

“How many . . . erm, how do I word this?” He looked conflicted as he murmured words to himself. 

“What? I won’t judge.” 

Nanami looked adorable when flushed. “How many fingers would you like . . . inside of you?” 

You pressed your lips together, holding back laughter at his reddened face. This was the first time you'd be taking a man's virginity, and you wanted to make sure it was as good for him as it would be for you. “I can take three.” 

“Wow,” he breathes out, clearing his throat. 

“I’ve taken a fist before.” 

His eyes widened in shock. “I’m sorry?” 

You laughed, cupping his face. “I’m just joking. I only wanted to see your reaction.” He was still flabbergasted as you kissed him. “But it is possible. I wouldn’t suggest it right now.” 

“Right now,” he repeats. Yes, right now. Eventually, you’d want his whole damn fist inside of you. “I’ll start with two.” 

“Middle and ring finger. Never index. It’s a rookie mistake.” 

“Of course.” Nanami relieved your clit and slid down your centre. “God, you’re soaking my hand, darling.” His words sent a ripple through you. Then his fingers slowly slid inside your tight heat, making him grunt. 

“How is it?” you whispered, massaging the back of his head while the other rested on the side of his neck. 

“Warm,” he said. “And . . . clamping?” 

This was entertainment for you. 

“Warm and clamping is one way to describe it. You can start moving your fingers in and out of me. Curl them, tap them, whatever you want.” Your tongue licked his upper lip, surprising him. “And if you want to blow my orgasm through the roof, circle your thumb on my clit. Don’t hold back.” 

And he didn’t. 

Nanami drove his fingers inside your pussy, unknowingly hitting your g-spot, and flinching when you cried out his name. The pad of his thumb rubbed your clit, or if he complained about a cramp, he’d used the mound of his palm, cupping your entire vagina. 

“I’m close—” You let out strained breaths, gripping his hair or shoulders. 

“Close to what?” 

“You’re going to make me say it?” 

Nanami appeared genuinely puzzled. “Close to your orgasm?” Oh, my god. He was genuinely puzzled. Why wouldn’t he be? You couldn't expect him to know about even the most obvious sex-related things. Part of you was excited to show him your vibrator and have him guess what it was. 

“Yes, Kento. I’m close to my orgasm.” 

He grinned with pride. Your heart melted, and you grabbed his face, kissing him as if your life hung in the balance. Amid his fervent moans, you came gushing down, drenching his hand with your release.

Pulling his hand out, he stared at your orgasm. “That’s quite a lot.” 

“Oh, my god, stop.” You covered your face, suddenly embarrassed by how much you’d come. 

“I’m sorry, darling. I meant it in a positive way. I’m very flattered. And thankful that you taught me how to please you this way.”

You caught him about to lick his fingers, causing you to shout in protest and pull his wrist back sharply. “No!”

“What? What is it?” 

“You can't just— You're all about cleanliness and stuff. I don't want you breaking your own rules for that.” 

Nanami smiled. “I’d break all my rules for you.” He went to go lick again, but you quickly pulled his hand towards your chest and wiped it on there. His face contorted to frustration. “What the fuck?” 

Your brows shot up. This was the first time you’d heard him curse. It was so hot. You wanted him to say it again. “It’s dirty.” 

“It’s a part of you.” He made a tch sound and retrieved his tie from the floor. “Give me your hands.” Taking your wrists, he bound them with the material behind your waist.

“Kinky,” you said. 

Nanami stayed silent, his expression now one of disappointment, his brows furrowed deeply. The confusion that once marked his demeanor had given way to a completely different persona. “If you won’t allow me to taste you from your hands”—he pushed your ankles up on the desk and sank between your legs—“I’ll drink straight from the source.” 

“Kento, wait—”

Too late. 

You broke into a chorus of moans as his tongue licked and lapped at your pussy. His mouth engulfed your clit and sucked on it hard, the tip of his tongue now swirling the little bud. His fingers spread your folds, as he cleaned every last drop of your juices, even probing your little hole that they seeped from. 

By the end of it, you were drenched in sweat, tears brimming in your eyes, your wrists throbbing from the restraints. Your body swayed side to side, legs trying to close him away, but he remained persistent in eating you out like a madman.  “Ken . . . I can’t—”

“Have you learned your lesson?” 

“Yes, goddamn it. Yes. I’m sorry.” You would let this man lick your whole body from now on. “Just kiss me already. Please.” 

He kissed your clit and travelled up to your stomach, each nipple, and to your mouth as he undid the tie so you could cling to him. His mouth met your wet eyes. “I’m sorry, darling. I got carried away a bit.” 

“No, don’t be. I loved it.” You planted a kiss on his cheek, making him smile bashfully, just like he had ten minutes earlier. “But I’d prefer someone else to touch me now.” 

His gaze grew intense. “Who?” 

You blinked. “Your friend.” 

He scoffed, running his fingers through his hair. “My— My friend?” 

“Uh, yeah?” 

“Have you spoken to him before?” 

You eyed his prominent bulge. “I’d like to. Touch him, kiss him, have him inside of me.” 

Nanami stared at you with disbelief. “No.” 

“No?” 

He gritted his jaw, fists at his side. You were completely frazzled by his response. Why was it that he got to explore your inside with his fingers and tongue and wouldn’t allow you to touch him? 

“That’s not fair. I thought you wanted me,” you mumbled. 

“And yet you want my friend,” he replied sharply. “Haibara will be disappointed to know that I don’t share.” 

Huh?

“Haibara?!” you shrieked at the highest decibel, jolting him. “Hai— Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Kento, you id— That’s not what I meant when I was referring to your friend.” How is this man running a multi-million dollar corporation? “I was talking about your penis. Dick. Cock. Whatever you prefer.” 

Nanami stood in stunned silence. His anger melted away, replaced by a sudden realization, his eyes darting upward. “Oh.” 

You’d had enough. If he prolonged your orgasm any further, you were going to get a female version of blue-balls. “Come here, you doofus.” You pulled down by his collars and kissed him, undoing his belt, button, and zipper for him. “Can I touch your dick, Mr. Nanami?” 

He nodded vigorously. 

You rolled your eyes, smiling, and slid your hands into his boxers, grabbing him. “Oh, God. I knew it. You’re so big.” 

“You knew it? Has it been on your mind?” 

“Ever since my interview. No one asked you to manspread. It drove me crazy. Made me stumble on my words.” You stroked him slowly, dissolving him in a sea of grunts and groans. “Be honest, did I get this job because you were attracted to me, or because I’m genuinely good at what I do?” 

Nanami pondered for a moment before responding, “Both?”

“Of course you chose the safest answer.”

“Well, you’ve managed my schedule flawlessly for three years. You handle all my emails, make the best coffee, and surprise me with treats. Yes, you’re undeniably beautiful, but it’s your heart that I’ve fallen in love with.”

Your hand froze. “Love?”

He nodded, a blush colouring his cheeks as he looked away. “Love.”

You cupped his face with both hands. “You love me?”

Another nod. “Since your interview.”

He had loved you for three years now. It seemed surreal. You liked him, certainly, but did you love him too? That was the question. Your mind had always assumed he would never see you romantically, so you held back from letting your feelings grow.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Nanami reassured you. “I’ve loved you enough for both of us for far too long. I can wait until you’re ready.” He kissed your forehead gently. “But please, don’t make me wait forever. I don’t want us to stay strictly professional. I want to take you out, make you my girlfriend as soon as possible. Eventually, make . . .” He paused, unsure where to place his hands, before settling on your shoulders. “Make you my wife.”

Oh, you were about to give him the best blow job ever. 

“Okay,” you whispered, stepping down from the table and taking his hands. “Let’s go on a date tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that. I want to be your girlfriend by next week— I’ll add it to your personal calendar. And I want dinner and wine at your place afterwards. Speaking of your place, I want to move in with you by the end of next month, or we can live in my shitty apartment— I don’t mind. You have to make me your wife next year instead of making me wait three more years. And I want two kids somewhere down the line. Oh, and a cat.” You grinned widely at his stunned expression. “Can you give me all that, Kento?” 

He breathed out heavily, nodding slowly. "Yes," he affirmed. His lips found yours. "Yes. I can. I will. I'll give you whatever you need." He kissed you without restraint, laughter filling his office like a contagious joy.

“Okay, okay.” You gently pushed him back by his shoulders and settled him into his seat. “Prepared to have your mind blown, Mr. Nanami.” Kneeling down, you kissed his thigh, tracing a path up to his hip bone.

His breaths came out laboured, short, as he watched your intentions with a hawk eye. 

You took him out of his boxers and prepared your poor throat. It was long and girthy, your fingers barely curving around it. Your tongue ran over his tip, collecting the salty, pre-cum leaking from there. 

Nanami hissed, gripping the armrests of his chair as he spread his legs wider. “Will this be painful?”

You looked up from under your lashes. “I'll do my best not to use my teeth by mistake.”

“I meant for you, darling.”

“One way to find out.” Your lips curved over the head of his cock, lowering yourself until his length was tickling the back of your throat. Nanami was in shambles already. You pulled back and licked him from his base to the summit. “You’re so warm, too. So hard.” Your hands sailed up his thighs, kissing his rigid length. “All for me.” 

“For you, darling.” He brushed your hair back from your face. 

Chuckling, you took him into your mouth again and sent a prayer you didn’t wake up with a sore throat. You could easily picture Nanami purchasing cough drops for you, brewing tea, and insisting you take a day off. The idea of him looking after you sent shivers down your spine.

Nanami gripped the sides of your head, his own tilted back as he breathed heavily through those flawless lips. Occasionally, he'd bravely look down and catch your gaze, then quickly avert his eyes to the ceiling. It was adorable how he struggled to maintain eye contact with you. You had assumed he avoided it because he wasn't interested in talking to you or listening to you yapping. It all makes sense now.

He's simply shy. And you're determined to coax him out of his shell, or even better, cozy up inside it where it's safe.

“The sounds you’re making,” he breathes out. The sounds you’re making, Kento. “It feels like you’re taking me deeper.” 

Because you were. You expanded your jaw, even hearing a little joint tick, and pushed him past the limit of your throat. You’d given blow-jobs before, but the guys were either too small, or too aggressive, leaving your scalp numb without any aftercare. 

Nanami was different. He left your hair and held your face, thumbs caressing your cheekbones as he struggled against his restraints. You could feel him twitch in your mouth, feel the veins pulse on your tongue, his sacs hot at your touch. 

But you wanted Nanami to come inside you. 

At the last minute, you drew him out of your mouth, the strings of your saliva and his pre-cum bridging from your lips and his tip. Nanami groaned at the sight, his dick twitch involuntarily, standing long and proud. 

“I want you inside of me now,” you whispered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and sitting on his lap. He pulled your lips in for a kiss as you adjusted his tip at your entrance, sitting down on it in one go. A cry ripped from your aching throat; a loud growl from his. “Fuck, Kento. Your cock’s filling me up.” 

“Such a dirty mouth,” he muttered, hand on your nape while the other guided your rolling hips. “Does it hurt?” 

You chuckled, head shaking. Your forehead rested over his palms on the side of his neck as you bounced on his lap, your movements growing faster. He was stretching you out, the tip poking your womb, practically splitting you in half. 

Nanami, on the other hand, was on cloud nine. You were warm and sticky, your walls cushioned and clamping around him, sucking him deeper by the second. He’d dreamt of this every night, jerking himself off to the thought of you, recalling the sound of your laugh, or your floral scent. 

Right now, his name slipped off your tongue and you smelled like him. Sweaty, breathless, moaning. This is exactly how he wanted you. Needed you. You were his assistant. His woman. His lover. If any other man dared to touch you, or flirt with you, he’d fire them. He wished he could kill them instead. 

You had awakened his territorial, possessive side, consuming him completely. If his parents refused to accept you as his equal, he would abandon everything and find happiness elsewhere with you. But first, he was determined to fight for you with all his might. Damn it, he loved you.

“I’m tired,” you whispered, wincing as you tried to mill your hips forward again. “Oh, no. I’m cramping up.” 

Nanami hated that he didn’t know what to do. He wished he was experienced. He wished he didn’t have to rely on you even if it was a turn-on when you dominated him with your words and actions. “Stop and take a breather.” 

You obeyed, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

He grabbed the globes of your ass and stood up, walking over to the couch and laying you down there. “Is this better?” 

“Yes.” You stretched up your arms then wrapped it around his neck, giving him a long, loud smack of a kiss. “Proceed.” 

Nanami chuckled, caressing your cheek. He thrusted inside of you, pulling himself to the tip, then back inside. It seemed to have you making those needy sounds, so must’ve been on the right track. 

“You’re so handsome,” you whispered, locking eyes with his deep brown gaze as he intensified his movements, growing faster and more forceful. “Yes, yes, yes. Oh, god. Ken—” You were cut off by his kiss, by his hand clutching your breast, pinching your nipple. 

“I love you,” Nanami murmured, kissing your throat and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You cupped the back of his hand, wailing moans as he pounded into you, flesh slapping against flesh. “I love you, darling. I love you so much.” 

“Kento.” You were feeling achingly sore, your legs losing sensation. He was rutting into you like a madman, and no, you did not want him to slow down whatsoever. “Kento!” 

He drew his face back. “Yes?” 

“I love you, too,” you cried out as you climaxed, your back arching off the couch’s surface. 

Nanami crashed seconds later. 

You were both a breathless, sticking, sweaty mess. Nothing but the sounds of your rapid hearts and shallow breaths could be heard. 

Nanami slid out of you after a minute of silence. He was glowing, golden hair damp with sweat and sticking in different directions from your hand that was running through it. He parted your legs and watched both your mingled release leaking out of you. “I did that.” 

You burst out laughing. “Thank you for letting me take your virginity.” 

He scowled at you, the kind where a smile creeped on his lips. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

“No, lay with me for a sec.” 

Nanami listened attentively and settled beside you on the couch, pulling you into his embrace. You showered kisses over his face, jaw, and the corners of his smiling mouth. “You said ‘I love you,’ by the way.” 

“I did.” Another peck landed on his lips. 

He swallowed, his eyes sparkling as they met yours. “Are you sure?” 

“One-hundred-infinite percent.” You fixed his hair away from his forehead, running your index finger down the slope of his nose and to his lips. “Say it back.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.”

Nanami sighed contentedly, his hand cradling the back of your head as he planted a kiss on your forehead. You giggled and nestled your cheek against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I know you said to wait until next week to make you my girlfriend, but is it alright if I make you mine now?” 

“I am already yours.” You drew hearts on his torso, feeling shy all of a sudden. You’d never been in a proper relationship before. But neither had Nanami. Which meant you’d both navigate your relationship together as novices. 

“Officially?” He continued. “Or I can wait—”

“Yes,” you said, craning your head up. “I’d love to officially be your girlfriend, Kento Nanami.” You savoured the relieved breath he took. How could you ever reject a soul like his? He was your favourite person. “But I’m still your assistant.” 

“And now I’m yours.” 

You laugh and rest your nose in the curve of his neck, closing your eyes. He hugged you close, lips lazily kissing the top of your head. “Get as much rest as you can, Boss Man. Round two is in five minutes.” 

[starboye]

Kinktober Day 30

starring: rafe cameron x male reader x topper thornton x barry

request: rafe cameron x thicc/male reader x topper x barry your dads is a football coach and rafe, topper, and barry are his star players so he invites them over and you get called down the stairs and they all just start staring at you and your juicy ass so as the night goes on whenever they walk by you they rub their bulges your ass or whenever you bend down to pick something up they always touch your ass…. After a while your dad goes to sleep and rafe, topper and barry goes into your room and they talk to you and rafe starts sitting on your bed and rubbing your thighs and then they finally convince you to have a foursome and they take turns eating your ass and while rafe is fuckin your ass he tells you not to be so loud your dad is sleeping so barry puts his dick in your mouth and you start sucking and your jerking off topper and they take turns and after awhile you are just fucked out with some many loads up your ass and rafe grabs his phone and spreads open your ass to take a video but after he’s done Barry and topper clean you out with their tongues and rafe helps you put your clothes on and in the morning your dad ask why are you limping and rafe laughs

warnings: smut, cursing, pervy boys, ass eating, ass slapping, rough sex, creampie, unprotected sex, face fucking, deep throating, foursome, jerking off, ass worship kinda

directors note: i know this is probably a little poopy but i've never written a foursome so im not surprised this didn't end up well

with your dad being a football coach and all it's no surprise he brings over players from time to time to either talk with them and their parents or just give them a little extra practice to heighten their sense but never before has he brought over these three douchebags, rafe topper, and barry, the self proclaimed playboys of the school and even sadder your dads star player.

you didn't expect your dad to bring them over but he did to your dismay, but why did you have to go down and say high to those ass hats anyway "y/n come on down and say hello to company" your dad yelled from downstairs making you annoyingly walk down the stairs, immediately seeing the smug faces of the three boys.

"hi, can i go now" you say annoyed by even their presence "now you know you can do better than that but fine you can go" he rolls his eyes at you before walking to the kitchen, the boys to distracted by you wobbly ass as you walk back to your room, their cock straining in their pants enough to burst the seams of it, but your dad quickly breaks them out of that trance and brings them to the backyard to practice some moves.

after that whole thing your dad makes everyone a delicious dinner and tonight you're dish duty, you thought it would be a simple and easy task until you felt rafe pass by and grope your ass a little, whipping around to confront the jerk just for him to already sitting down next to your dad on the couch watching the football game, next was topper who rubbed his bulge against your ass acting like he was just trying to squeeze by.

and even worse was barry who just straight up slapped your ass and walked past you, watching it jiggle as he grabbed a soda from the fridge and smirking at your face of shock, but once finally got done doing the dishes you just wanted to chill in your room for the rest of the night away from those pervs, that was until they knocked at your door "what do you want" you ask annoyed at their presence even more that it was late in the night "just wanna hang out" rafe says.

"can't you hang out with my dad" you retort "he's asleep so looks like you're stuck with us" rafe says pushing the door open and walking in, sitting on your bed meanwhile barry and topper stood by, you sat back down on the bed to amuse them and whatever they wanted with you "y'know with your dad sleeping and all we could do whatever we want" he lowly says in a sultry tone as his hand moves to rub your thigh, making you flinch a little as their plans become clear as day.

"how about not" you quip back moving his hand "aw c'mon i see the way you look at us when we're practicing, basically drooling for our cocks and with that fat ass we could both benefit" rafe tries one more time rubbing his hand further up your thigh, topper and barry in the background rubbing their bulges hoping to convince you more and after a little more thinking you agree and their off.

they immediately turn you over, ripping off your clothes and ogling at you bouncy ass, rafe going first and diving his face into your ass, tongue prodding at your hole as he expertly ate you out as his boys just jerked off to the sight, before long topper was in between your ass cheeks fucking his tongue into you, infatuated by the taste of you that when it was barrys turn he didn't wanna leave but barry forced him out the way and got his turn.

barry was more interested in your fat ass being engulfed in his face, it's like he was in his version of heaven, he didn't even care to eat you out, only laying kisses on the inside of your ass and some hickeys before rafe was back in between your ass, at this point you were trying your best to hold back any moans that tried to come out but when he pressed his tip into you it was no point in holding back.

his thrusts were rough and a little ragged making loud moans fall from your mouth "you sure you wanna keep being this loud with your dad just down the hall" rafe asks shoving to fingers in your mouth and barry coming in front of you to shove his cock into your throat, silencing your sweet but loud moans by fucking your mouth, topper takes your hand and puts it on his cock, you starting to jerk him off while all the boys groan and moan around you.

"fuck, country club you gotta try his mouth" barry groans firmly holding the back of your head to thrust into your mouth making you gag on his cock before he came down your throat, keeping his cock in your mouth to force you to swallow it all down, not even a couple of seconds later rafe cums in your hole, pushing it further in you with his pounding and topper cumming all over your face, jerking his hips into your hand, wanting more and more firction.

next it was like a merry go around, barry going to your hand, rafe going to your mouth, and topper going to your ass, by the end of the fucking you had multiple loads in your ass and could barely move, your jaw in agony from them face fucking you all night "you did a good job" rafe huffs pulling out of your ruined ass and grabbing his phone to video the cum pushing out of your ass and onto your thigh, little whimpers escaping your lips at the feeling "don't worry we'll be back this weekend" barry lifts your chin to sloppily kiss you.

with one last slap to your ass the boys put their clothes back on and walk out of the room leaving you fucked out and barely able to move but still able to take a shower and go to bed,waking up the next morning limping with a sore throat "hey bud, what's with the limp" your dad asks sipping some coffee from his mug "must've just pulled something while sleeping" you chuckle dryly drawing a snicker from the boys who were eating breakfast, those douchebags.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft @wompwomp-1mh3re

[sturniqlo]

FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

summary: the new school year has officially begun and matt is meeting his new students; ellie's first day of school has finally arrived

cw: slight cursing, baby daddy drama (yes, already)

note: this series will be in first person pov and will change from matt to reader through the chapters, also 'y/n' won in my poll, but to not use 'y/n' as much, i've come up with 'goldie' as a nickname so ill be using both 'goldie' and 'y/n'! NOT PROOFREAD:/

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MATT

my alarms rang just in time, 5:30am. it was finally the day, it was the first day of the new school year. also meaning that it's my second year teaching kindergarten and teaching in general. my first year alone had gone great. before teaching a class all by myself, i was a teacher assistant for a fourth grade class. although it was great, i just thought i'd be better off teaching littler kids.

turning off my alarm, i laid in bed for a couple of minutes to fully wake up. as it sit up, it stretch and hear and feel the familiar cracking. for today, i was planning on getting to school early to set up a few things and decorate the class for the kids.

i had bought a few snacks but not before checking if i had any students with any food allergies. i only had one student who had a peanut allergy, so that meant no peanuts at all. when i had found that out, i was in school over the summer decorating my class, so i printed out a few signs that said 'PEANUT FREE CLASSROOM' and one on the door and a few around the class.

"morning, hun." i say as i feel the soft familiar fur against my leg as i stood up from bed. "gonna meet my new kids today, hun. can't wait to tell you all about em'." i crouch down to scratch her behind the ear as she purrs. "lets go get you some breakfast." the first thing i always do as soon as i get up from bed is serve hunny her breakfast and refill her water bowl.

as i walk out of my bedroom and make my way to the kitchen, i hear hunny meowing once she sees that im opening the cabinet that holds her food and treats. "yeah, yeah. i hear you." i chuckle, grabbing the bag of food. i pour her some dry food and top it off with some wet food. "there you go, hun."

i put her bag of food back in the cabinet before going back to my room to get a change of clothes to shower.

it was 6:17 by the time i had showered, changed, brushed my teeth and did my hair. entering my room, i throw my dirty clothes into the hamper and hang up my towel. hunny startled me by popping out from under the blanket on my bed. "shit— hunny." i shake my head.

"no, hun. you've had your breakfast already." i say as i move around the kitchen as hunny constantly meows for more food even though she still has some in her bowl. i sit at one of the stools at the small island counter and eat my breakfast as i scroll through my phone checking my email.

buried in my phone, i didn't notice just how fast the time was going until i looked at the time in the corner. 6:57. "shit—" i was behind schedule. i put my plate and cup in the sink— i'll wash them when i return home. running a hand through my hair, i make my way to my bedroom to get a pair of socks on.

"hunny, no." i grab sock that i had left on the bed before hunny had a chance to grab it, she has a things for socks. "you've already destroyed so many pairs of my socks, can't have you destroying them all." for most of the summer, hunny was the only person—cat— i talked to. that is one of the cons of living alone and being single. yeah i hung out with family and the couple of friends i have, but it's not the same of being able to have someone.

throughout the summer, i took one week and went on a mini vacation alone and left hunny with my parents. i stayed in a cabin in a small rural town. and for the rest of my summer, i dedicated it to making my teacher plans for the year. i've heard from several teachers that during the summer they only plan out the first quarter and plan the rest as the year goes.

i finished getting ready and gathering my things as i walk towards my front door. "see you later, hunny." i smile at the cat as i unlock the door. i lock the door behind me and head towards the elevator to get to the parking garage. "good morning, matt!" i hear a voice besides me. i turn my head and see marley, my elderly neighbor, standing next to me with her reusable grocery bags. "morning, marley. going shopping so early?" i ask and step in the elevator as the doors open.

"oh, you know me, i hate when the grocery stores are packed with people. i like getting there before opening time." she chuckles. "i'm with you there." i agree. "would you like a ride? i pass the grocery store as i go to work." she shakes her head. "oh no, dear. i'm okay, really. wouldn't want to make you late to work."

"really, marley. you won't make me late. school doesn't start for another hour and thirty minutes." she sighs and thinks about it. "well, if you insist, dear." she smiles. "of course."

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"have a good first day back to work, matt. and thanks for the ride!" marley waves as she steps out of the car. "anytime, marley. have a safe walk home. and let me know if the strawberries are any good here. got a bad batch the other day" i wave back. "will do!" marley nods and closes the car door making her way to the front door of the supermarket. i drive away once i see that she's made it in.

marley is such a sweet lady. i first met her as i was moving into the building. i was unpacking my boxes when my door bell rang followed by a soft knock. and when i opened the door, there she was holding a container of cookies. "hello! i'm marley, i live down the hall. wanted to come by and welcome you to the building!" and now, every other week she brings me any dessert or pastry she bakes. and this week is the week.

as i drive to the school, i can't help but feel a bit nervous. what if my new students hate me? or don't think im a good teacher? stop it, matt. i shake my head at myself. on the bright side, i finally get to put a face to every name on my roster. i have a smaller class this year of sixteen students, last year i had twenty five students.

when i arrive to school and park my car, it's 7:25am. only an hour and five minutes until showtime. i get out of the car and grab the bags i brought full of extra supplies. i swing my personal book bag on my shoulder and lock my car making my towards the teacher entrance.

"mr. sturniolo! welcome back! how was your summer?" i'm stoped by the principal of the school. "principal mcdaniels! my summer was great, it's good to be back though. how was yours?" i return the same enthusiasm. we both conversate for a few minutes until he lets me go set up. "i'll visit your class later in the day, have a good first day." i nod at his words. "you too!"

i make my way down the hall and make a left towards my classroom. putting the bag i was carrying in my left hand, my right hand reaches into my pocket to get my keys to unlock the door. i open the door and the automatic lights turn on. "less than an hour." i mumble to myself, going to my desk. i look around the class and see that the janitors must've stopped by in the past few days because some desks and chairs were out of place. quickly, i fix those and regroup all sixteen desks into groups of four.

from the bags i had brought, i take out the name tags for every students and tape them down on the desk. i also open up applesauce pouches and packs of goldfish and place one on every desk. kids like these snack, right?

as i'm putting up final decorations and set up the project on the white board, the intercom comes on. "good morning and welcome back, faculty and staff! from the kindness of principal mcdaniels, there is coffee, tea, hot chocolate and pasties in the teachers lounge! please feel free to stop by and grab what you'd like! good luck and happy first day back!"

happy first day back indeed.

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GOLDIE

"ellie bellie, wake up, sleepyhead." i circle my hand across ellie's back. her hands were tucked under her cheek and she had slight drool dripping out of her mouth. "it's the first day of kindergarten! isn't that so exciting?!" i say a bit louder this time. no movement from her. "ellie." i drag out her name, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear that came undone from her braid. she was a mover at night. it was no surprise considering the fact that she never stopped moving in my belly.

i run my finger over her face, caressing it. as i jokingly tickle her pouty lips. she takes out her right hand and rubs her eyes. "mommy?" her voice cracks, but still squeakier than usual. "i'm here, ells." i smile as her eyes flutter open. "is it time for school?" she yawns. "mhm, it's seven o'clock already. we've got to get you ready. we don't want to be late on your first day, now do we?" i giggle, slightly tickling her tummy as she had rolled on to her back.

"mommy!" she giggles squirming around. "what?! is it too early for tickles?" ellie nods, pushing my hand away. "okay, okay. c'mon, let's get you up and brush that crazy hair of yours." i get up from her bed and make my way out the door. "meet me in the bathroom."

i give ellie a moment to fully wake up before she's walking into the bathroom. one of the legs to her princess pajama pants was up to her knee while the other one was still in place. "ready?" i say with her brush in my hand. "mhm!" she hops on to her stool her hold on to the countertop. "brush your teeth while i do your hair, baby."

five minutes later, her teeth are brushed and her hair is in two pigtails. "alright, now that your look even more beautiful, do you want to get into your outfit or eat breakfast first?" i run my fingers through one of her pigtails. "uhm— breakfast first? i'm hungry."

"okay, breakfast it is then."

ellie hops down the stairs as i follow behind her into the kitchen. "what do you want to eat, ellie?" i open up the fridge. "white spaghetti with chicken!" i laugh at her request. "baby, it's to early for chicken alfredo. how about i make that when you get out of school?" i can already see the pout forming on her face. "fine. i'll eat pancakes and bacon." she huffs out.

"i promise i'll make your chicken alfredo for dinner, okay?" i grab the ingredients for breakfast. i grab three eggs, one for the pancake mix and two for me since ellie doesn't like the taste of eggs. "eggs?" she sticks her tongue out at the sight of them. "yes, ells. but, it's for me and the pancake mix." i clarify. "i can't taste it in the pancake, right?" she says, leaning her elbows on the counter. "nope, you can't."

"okay, good."

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"is daddy coming to drop me off with you?" ellie says as she takes a bite of her bacon. i almost scoff that the mention of her father. "i'm sure he will." i smile at her trying to give her some reassurance. in reality, i haven't heard from him at all this morning. i pick up my phone and open my messages to shoot him a text.

me

hey, it's almost time to drop ellie off. are you going to make it?

vincent

nah.

it's to early. so if you will, please let me go back to sleep and stop blowing my phone up.

is he being serious right now? ellie had been waiting for the moment that me and her dad will be in the same vicinity for more than five minutes. usually he would pick her up from my place and the most we'd speak to each other without arguing was a simple hello.

me

what the hell, vincent? you know she wants you there. can you not do a simple act of showing up for your own daughter?

vincent

y/n, please. it's too early in the morning for this shit.

me

whatever, i hope your sleep is worth it for you to miss ellie's first day of school

i turn off my phone without bothering to see what his response was. "was that daddy?" i hear ellie say across from me. "oh, yeah. he can't make, i'm sorry ells." i frown, feeling the sadness already radiating off of her. "why can't he come?" she pushes her unfinished plate away. i can't tell her the truth, i just can't. "he had to go to work early." is the first thing that spills out from my mouth. "oh." we finish breakfast in silence. "but, auntie willow will be there, you'll have us." ellie nodded, still looking a bit bummed out and i don't blame her.

"why don't you go put your uniform on, yeah?" i give her a slight smile trying to lift her mood up. "okay." she says, hopping off her chair and making her way to the stairs. i grab our dirty dishes and bring them to the sink, i'll wash them when i return home.

trying to ignore my anger towards vincent and my heartache for ellie, i make a mental to do list for things to do once i return home. it'll be my first day without ellie. yeah, there was a couple of times where her dad took her out for a while, but it was never for more than two hours. a whole eight hours at school is going to be torture.

however, with ellie starting school, that means i'm able to go back to work in the office. ever since ellie was born, i've been working from home editing pictures for one of the biggest photography business in the city. i was lucky enough to have this accommodation for this many years. i officially go back next week.

"mommy, i'm sorry. i ruined my hair." she walks into the kitchen with one ponytail instead of two. i giggle. "it's okay, c'mere ill fix it." i lean against the island counter and take the hairtie as she holds it out and proceeds to turn around in front of me. "tell me, baby. how are you feeling about starting school." i gather the loose hair on the right side. "i'm excited. i want to meet my teacher and— and make friends. do you think my classmates will like me?"

"of course they will. you're so nice, funny, smart and caring. you're very lovable, ellie belly." i tighten the pigtail and smooth it out. as she begins to respond, there's a knock at the front door. i gasp at her. "it's auntie wills!" her face lights up and she points to the door asking for permission to go open it. "go ahead, babe." she smiles and runs to the door.

"oh em gee! look at you ellie belly! you look like a big girl who i starting kindergarten today!" i hear willow say to ellie. "that's because i am, auntie wills!" i see willow with ellie on her hip enter the kitchen. "hey goldie! how you feelin'? she's all grown up, if you blink fast enough she'll be graduating high school, getting a boyf—" i toss a kitchen towel at her face. "hey— stop that! she hasn't even started the school day." i laugh.

"i'm kidding, im kidding!" she puts ellie down and she runs off somewhere in the house. "so, is villain vincent coming today?" she leans against counter next to me as i wash the pan from this morning's breakfast. "don't even get me started." i scoff and she gasps. "is he not coming? that fucking— ugh!" she groans. "tell me about it! he said it was too early to go to it. like he knows how much she wanted him there. it's the least he could do for her since he barley comes around."

"i wish you would let me punch him in the face, goldie. gosh— he pisses me off so much."

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"alright, ellie! i love you so so so much! have fun, okay? and remember you're so smart and kind. i'll be here to pick you up." i caress her cheeks as we stand near the stairs to the school entrance. "i love you too, mommy." she smiles. i press a kiss to her cheeks.

willow gets a chance to say her words of encouragement to her. "and remember, ellie. if someone pushes you, you push them harder. if someone punches you, you punch them har—" i cut her off. "alllriight— let's not encourage violence. c'mon ellie, let's get you in."

"i love you ellie! have fun!" willow says to her as i walk with ellie up the stairs. "good morning, you two!" a lady says at the front door. "good morning!" i say back with a smile. "whats her name?" she says with a clipboard in her hard. "it's elora. elora y/l/n." she nods and flips through several pages until she finds her name. "perfect, she's in room 111! i can take her from here. it makes it easier to prevent last minute tears." she whispers the last part. "oh, of course. thank you so much."

"c'mon, elora. let's go see your teacher. say bye to your mom." ellie looks up at me and i see her lips slightly tremble. "hey, hey, no tears, okay? you're going to have so much fun and make friends!" her mood changes instantly. gosh, her moods switch so fast. "okay, no tears." she says.

ellie goes off with the lady whose name i didn't catch. i turn back and walk towards willow. "okay, let's her going before i begin to sob!" i blink fast so my tears won't fall. "fuck— oops, children around, me too i'm about to cry." i still can't believe my baby is starting school. i kept her home from preschool as i wanted to teach her the basics. plus, i also thought she was too young to start school at four.

"so, how does coffee sound?"

────˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗────

MATT

it was officially that time. although it was a bit before 8:30, my new students began to make it down the hall and into my classroom with the help of staff. because they were kindergartners and possibly being away from their parents or guardians for the first time, staff had to bring them in the building without their adult to prevent any tantrums or crying. and it worked, there weren't any tantrums.

"hey, there! i'm mr.sturniolo! what's your name, bud?" i crouch down to level down with the curly headed kid. "h-hi, im peter." he gives me a shy smile. "well its very nice to meet you peter." i smile at him and check his name off of my attendance list. flipping the page up on my clipboard, i see what table he's sitting at. "alright, peter. you are sitting in the red table right over there." i point towards the table closest to the windows. "just look for your name and you can take a seat. there's also some snacks on your desk."

peter nods and walks away with his bookbag, looking around at the other few kids who were seated. over the summer, i sent out a survey to the parents of what their kids knew and didn't know. luckily for me, all of my kids knew how to spell and read their name, they knew their colors, alphabet and numbers.

i was checking through my attendance and realized half of my class was already here before 8:30. "hello, good morning!" i heard a voice. i put my clipboard down by my side and see a little girl standing in front of me with a big smile. "good morning! i'm mr.sturniolo! and who might you be?" i say with a smile. "my name is ellie!" her pigtails swing with her excitement. i look down at my clipboard and don't see an ellie, but an elora.

"elora? is that you, sweetie?" i ask. "oh— yes! my name is elora, but my mommy, my auntie, and everyone else calls me ellie!" i chuckle. "okay, would you like me to call you ellie? is that okay?" i check her name off of the paper, and she nods. "alright ellie, your desk is at the purple table, just look for your name." i give her a smile. "okay, mr.sturn— um." she stumbles her words. "sturniolo." i help her out. "mr.sturniolo!" she giggles. "if it's easier, you can call me mr.s!"

"okay, mr.s!" she smiles and goes off to the purple table.

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"okay, kiddos! it seems like everyone is here!" i say as the close shuts behind me. i walk up to my desk and put my clipboard down. "good morning everyone! as i mentioned, my name is mr.sturniolo or if it might be a bit difficult to say, you can call me mr.s!" i look at ellie as i say that and she smiles. "welcome to kindergarten! raise your hand if you're excited to start school." as i say that, hands fly up.

not sure if they'll be saying that in a few weeks.

"breakfast should be here in a couple of minutes, but you guys are more than welcome to eat the snack i left on your desk." i look around and see a few kids have started to open their snacks.

"um, mr.s?" i hear a small voice say. i look to my right and see tommy—im a quick learner with names— holding up his goldfish. "yeah?" i walk over to him. "can you help me open this?" he hands it to me. "of course, bud!"

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it was a couple of minutes after the kids had finished their breakfast, the lunch ladies came in with bagged breakfasts earlier, i was now holding up a big trash bag calling up each table one by one to throw their trash away. "thank you mr.s." ellie said to me for simply holding up the bag, i've learned that she has really good manners. her parents must've taught her that. "of course, ellie."

after i had collected all of the trash, i set the tied trash bag outside of the classroom so it'd be picked up by mabel or pete, the janitors from this side of the school.

it's now time for the day to actually begin.

"okay kiddos! because it's the very first day of school, we are going to do something easy today. does that sound good?" i hold up both of my thumbs and look around seeing everyone slightly nod. "sounds great! now, i have a question. who here wants to make friends?" i hear a few me's.

"does someone have any idea how we can get to know everyone in this class? raise you hand if you think you know." i wait a few seconds before i see ellie raise her hand. "yes, ellie?"

"um, maybe by talking with everyone?" she says shyly when she sees a few heads have turned towards her. "good, yes! that's a way we can make friends." i smile and nod at her. "so, i have a game we're going to play. i am going to say a letter from the alphabet, and if your name starts with that letter—" i walk to my desk and grab a deck of flash cards with each letter from the alphabet on them. "you'll stand up, say you name, favorite color and something you want the class to know about you. it can be anything you are comfortable sharing. and if nobody's name starts with a certain letter, we can list things that do start with that letter."

i look around and see everyone in agreement. "okay, are we ready to start?" i ask as i flip through the cards making sure they're in order. "alright. first letter— can everyone repeat after me? A." i hold up the card with the letter A on it.

"A!" their little voices fill up the space. "great job! one more time! A!" i say and they repeat the letter once more. "good, good. now, if your name starts with the letter A, stand up." two girls stand up. alexia and amy. "my name is alexia! i— my favorite color is pink. and um— i like to draw doggies and kitties!"

we get to the letter e, having to list things for the letter B and D. "next is the letter E!" they say the letter after me and ellie stands up right after. "hi, my name is elora, but i like ellie better. my favorite color is baby blue. and my favorite animal are cats and i really want one for a pet."

continuing through the game, we stumble across the letter M and i stand up from my chair that stood in front of the room. "okay, my name is matthew, but i prefer matt, my favorite color is blue and i have a pet cat named hunny." there were a few gasps from the kids as they found out my actual name wasn't mr.sturniolo and i explained to them that it's my last name and that's what they have to call me by.

the game soon wrapped up and everyone was more comfortable with talking to one another.

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it was thirty minutes before dismissal and i was about to give them their last activity for the day. after we had finished the name/alphabet game, i sent them to their assigned cubbies so they'd put their bookbags and sweaters away. a few more hours later, it was lunch time and i took them to the lunch room and came back to my class for my break.

now, i'm passing around blank sheets of paper, crayons, markers and coloring pencils. "alright, before we leave. i want all of you guys to draw some flowers. why flowers? well, when flowers grow, they bloom. and each one of you are slowly growing— blooming into strong boys and girls just like flowers." as i pass everything out, i go back to my desk and turn on the desk project to project my drawing of flowers in a vase on the board. "this is an idea of how you guys can do it. and it does not have to be exactly like mine. have fun with it and make it pretty."

with that, everyone got to work.

it was five minutes before i had to line the kids up for dismissal and the class and i had just finished putting the coloring pencils, markers and crayons away. "okay everyone! you can go ahead and put your drawing in your take home folder. and once you've done that, please form a line at the door."

once everyone was situated with their bookbag on and lined up at the door, i began to explain how dismissal will work. "whenever you see your adult, let me know and i will give you a paper that has to go to them, alright?" they all nodded and the bell rang. "alright, let's go!"

the kids followed behind me and i held the stack on papers in my hand. it was a form for their parent or guardian to sign about meeting one on one with me throughout next week.

we neared the school doors that were behind held open by two staff members, there was a crowd of parents outside waiting for their child. "mr. s! i see my dad!" tommy got my attention. "yeah? alright, give this to him. i'll see you tomorrow, tommy!" i handed him a paper and he went off to his dad who stood not to far.

one by one each kid got picked up. "mr. s! my mom is over there!" ellie said to me, pointing towards the gates as a two women walked in. "okay, ells. make sure she get this, okay?" i give her a paper. "okay, i'll give it to her!" she smiled taking the paper in her hold. "alright, ellie! have a good rest of your day, i'll see you tomorrow!"

five minutes later, all of my kids got picked up and i headed back inside to straighten up my class and get my belongings to head on home.

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"hey, hunny." i cooed as i walked in my apartment and heard hunny begin to meow. "mhm, good first day today. thank you for asking, hun." i crouched down to scratch the back of her ear, not bothering to put my bags down.

i stood back up and walked into the living room putting my bags on the couch. walking towards my kitchen, i flicked the light on and opened the fridge to get my pitcher of cold water. i chugged down a glass of water and headed to my room to change into some lounging clothes.

i'd say that today was a good first day.

as i finished changing, there was a slight knock at the door. walking out my room, i went towards my front door and opened it to reveal marley. "matt! i heard you come in a little while ago. thought i'd come by to drop these off. they're oatmeal cookies. i made them earlier today." she held a container of a dozen cookies. "thank you so much marley. would you like to come in?" i retrieved the container from her. "oh, i would love to, but my grandbabies are on their way over!"

we conversated for a bit at the door before she went back down the hall.

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GOLDIE

"oh, my baby! how was your first day?" i crouched down as ellie came running to me. "it was so much fun, mommy! oh, here this is for you." she gave me a paper

dear parents/guardians,

as the school year has just begun. i would like to meet with you one on one sometime next week to discuss the school year and what your child will be learning. this is a great opportunity to get to me, your child's teacher, and i will get to know you and your child a bit more and see what support is needed from me.

please choose a day and time(s) for a meeting next week after school and have your child return it no later than friday. if you are unavailable to meet with me, please email me at msturniolo@sunrisevalley.edu to discuss other options. i look forward to meeting you.

- matthew sturniolo

"what's that?" willow asked as we walked out of the school yard back to the car. "oh, just to make an appointment to meet one on one with her teacher next week." i shrugged. we made it to the car and i put the paper in ellie's bookbag so i wouldn't crumble it. "guess what's ready for you back home, ellie?" i smile at her as i buckle her in. "white speggeti and chicken?!" she beamed. "mhm, it was ready right before we left to sure it was hot and ready for when you got back home." "yay!" she cheered.

i'd say she had a good first day.

────˗ˏˋ authors note ˎˊ˗────

omg!! how do we feel about this?! sorry i've gone for so long😔 i lowk lost motivation but i wrote this bit by bit throughout the weeks i've been gone. i will try my best to keep up with this series that i genuinely want to write it :D

[iheartsophie]

Surprise!!

Harry Lewis (W2S) x Fem!Reader (3.6k words)

Summary: Reader surprises Harry during the Sidemen’s “$20,000 VS $200 HOLIDAY” after not seeing eachother for a month

Warnings: Swearing, PDA, small panic attack, NOT PROOF READ!!!!

Author note: i linked “I Got U” as a song because i feel like that is the most summer feeling song i know and im missing summer rn

So a bit of backstory, Josh has planned a $20,000 vs $200 holiday an he called me around two weeks ago asking if I would join in the video and surprise Harry as well as the other lads- of course I said yes! I’ve currently been away on a business trip for the past month and I haven’t been able to see Harry, the only way I’ve seen him is on FaceTime which isn’t the same as seeing and hearing his voice in person. Every week when the boys have been recording they’ve secretly been messaging me and sending me photos of Harry moping around and complaining about how he won’t see me for an extra week due to the holiday video. The only people who do know are Josh, Kon, Kirsty, Cal and Freezy. Cal and Freezy are also tagging along to surprise the boys.

As soon as my last business meeting was over I rushed out of the doors and directly onto the train home because I needed to pack as soon as possible because I would not have time to in the morning because Mr. Josh Zerkaa decided to book the earliest flight in existence, Cal and Freezy were fine with it; me on the other hand, I was fuming… because that means I’m missing out on my beauty sleep!

(The night before surprising Harry… )

After the excruciatingly long train ride from Manchester to London I was finally back home at mine and Harry’s shared apartment, it was weird walking in through the doors and not having Harry greet me at the door was a hug and a kiss.. but I reminded myself I would be in the same country as him in just short of 17 hours. I headed towards our bedroom and threw on some pjs which consisted of one of Harry’s t shirts and some shorts. Packing was a nightmare, let’s just put it that way. I had not been on holiday in so long and I had forgotten how stressful it is making sure you have enough necessities to last you the time you’re away and also making sure you have not forgotten anything… So I just grabbed all of my clothes that were in my “summer side” of the wardrobe and tried to stuff it into one suitcase and that did not work, so I ended up with two family sized suitcases almost bursting at the seams full of my things.

As soon as I had finished packing I went to make a quick pot noodle in the microwave as I knew I wouldn’t tend to the dishes in the morning and I don’t want to come back to messy dishes after the holiday and I definitely don’t think Harry would either. As I was eating my pot noodle my phone started buzzing, I looked at the contact “Bog 💙” - I answered straight away

(Italic- Harry)

“Hello (y/n/n)”

“Hiya babe you okay? How’s the trip so far?”

“Could be better… The trip is alright , I’m on the good team so that’s good I guess, could be better if you were here”

“Aww I’m missing you too, don’t get yourself down love, only 5 more days left! Then you’ll be back home and we can go see that movie you wanted to see if you’re up for it”

“I know and of course I want to go to the movie are you mad! My all time favourite movie franchise ever”

(I giggled as I heard JJ, Tobi and Josh in the background telling harry to get off the phone and go to the sauna with them)

I shouted down the phone

“Oi you lot shut your mouth we are talking over here! Anyways, I best get going I need to call Cal and Freezy to make sure they’re up and ready early in the morning tomorrow”

Shit, I’ve slipped up…

Harry frowned at me through the phone

“What do you mean? Why do you need to do that?”

What do I say? Think y/n. Think!

“Oh! Did I not tell you? We’re going on a hike tomorrow, yeah! To the Lake District?”

“Ohhh okay, yeah best let you go then. Love you!”

“Love you too, bye!”

That was close… I can’t believe that just happened. How did I manage that? Anyways, I put my empty pot noodle in the bin and put the fork in the dishwasher to deal with later. I went into the bathroom and completed my night routine and got into bed, and quickly messaged Cal and Freezy to have their alarms set and where we will meet at the airport in the morning. Soon after that I dozed off…

(Time skip to the getting off the train)

As I was getting off the train I got a message from harry:

“Bog 💙: Have a nice day with the boys, please don’t push them off the mountain🙏, love you”

I sent a quick message back:

“I’ll try my hardest, love you too”

I somehow bumped into Cal and Freezy at the train station instead of at the airport, they both brought their cameras to get footage of us on the way their so the editors can put it in and we have our own little segments in the video. “Look who we have here…” Cal teased, “Mrs. Harry Lewis”. “Not a mrs yet, I’m still waiting” I corrected while holding up my left hand beholding my empty ring finger. After that small segment they put their cameras away and we caught a taxi and made our way to the airport. Getting out of the taxi was a struggle not for the boys, just for me, because of my two huge suitcases it was hard trying to pick them up and out of the boot of the taxi. And instead of the boys ,who are meant to be like brothers to me, helping me get them out they just filmed me while laughing in the background and caught a clip of my tripping over the suitcase which was behind me. “You’re both such dicks, wait till I tell Harry”, “What is Harry going to do? Cause I can bet you £100 right here that he will laugh too.”

We finally made track down the road to the airport and Freezy started filming a little bit with Cal next to him and me behind them still struggling with my suitcases, which you can imagine is causing me some unneeded anger. “As you can see y/n finally got her suitcases out and we are on the way to the best holiday, we are going to the best destination. Thank you sidemen for this holiday, we really appreciate it”, “Bro you’re such an arse licker, you just want to be on the good team if you’re invited again!” I pointed out, Cal turned around to me “Now, now, y/n don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same thing.” I stayed silent and they both laughed.

“We are on our way to meet- surprise them, they have no idea that we’re going I’ve been playing tricks with Harry all week, y/n told us that she nearly slipped up on the plan”, “I didn’t mean to! I feel so bad lying to him, he told me to have a good day in the Lake District and to message him when we get there.. he’s going to be so worried when I don’t message him.”

(Time skip to when we’re in the airport)

Poor Cal is not having a good time, he’s left his phone on the train and now his bag has been chosen for a search and I know this isn’t about me but I just want to get on that plane now, and all of this messing about is causing me to stress so bad and I can’t talk to harry about it because it will give away our secret so I just keep to myself and put my headphones on.

We’re finally on the plane, at last! But the only problem is I haven’t told the boys I’m scared because whenever I’m on a plane I’m usually with Harry and he can just sense my worry and comforts me without me having to tell him or ask him to. Though only Freezy is aware because of when I went skiing with him and Harry and started crying when that plane took off. When plane started to move my breathing started to pick up and I leat my elbows on my knees and looked down. Unbeknownst to me Cal and Freezy looked at each other over my body and mouthed to eachother “Is she alright?” Cal asked, “She’s terrified of flying” Freezy pointed out. Freezy tapped my shoulder for me to look at him and when I did he opened his arms for me to go into and he hugged me while I cried into his shoulder, and whilst I did he was rubbing my back and trying to soothe me the best he could.

It took me a few minutes to calm down and when I did Cal let me watch a movie on his laptop, which lasted almost the whole flight. We finally landed and all three of us made sure we turned out locations of for the boys, whilst we were doing that all the messages that didn’t send because we were on the plane we’re coming through, all of mine were from Harry and a few of the boys..

Bog💙: message me when you arrive so I know you got there safely x

Bog💙: and don’t forget to tell me if Cal slips up the hill again

Bog💙 hello? It’s been 3 hours now surely you’re almost there by now

Bog💙: why aren’t my messages going through are you okay?

Bog💙: babe please tell me you’re okay

Tobi: Harry’s freaking out are you okay? Please let us know

JJ: Fam what are you playing at, are you alr??

(Time skip to getting to the harbour)

I quickly replied to them all reassuring them I’m okay and that I forgot about telling Harry I arrived. Josh messaged us to tell us to meet at the harbour with our suitcases because we can leave them on the yacht when we get to it. So while we were waiting for Josh to get here we found a British bar and we ordered a nice English breakfast each, though while we were waiting I went to the bathroom and got changed into a bikini and put some denim shorts over the top and some of my nice sandals on. We finished our breakfast and Josh arrived outside the bar.

Josh took us to the yacht they had rented and where we were going to surprise the boys, and we chose were we were hiding and a code word Josh will say for when we were to jump out which was “chips”, though they told me to come out a little bit later as an extra EXTRA surprise for harry. Cal and Freezy hid behind the seat were the wheel was and I was at the bottom of the stairs on the lower deck, enough to hear Josh but also enough so Tobi, JJ, and harry walk last and don’t suspect anything.

Everything was in place and ready to go. Now we were just waiting and anticipating the boys’ arrival. Josh mumbled that he could see the boys and I slightly looked over the steps to make sure Cal and Freezy were hidden and I couldn’t see them so I did I little nod to myself and ducked back down because they finally listened to something for once. I could started to hear the boys, I could hear Tobi repeating “you’re a king, you’re a king” to Josh and JJ saying “oh my god” and the nervous laugh I could recognise anywhere, harry. I started to get butterflies in my belly coming to terms that I’m seeing harry for the first time in a while.

“I’m buzzing to eat these chips”

All you could hear on the yacht was cheering and laughing. And Harry’s infamous screams. All the boys ran to hug each other and tackled each other. When it all calmed down Harry went silent as if piecing things together, “Whats the matter Harry?” Tobi questioned, “If Cal and Freezy are here, where’s y/n then?” and I took that as my queue to come up the stairs with a tray of drinks. “Hello? Special delivery” ( yes when I was in the lower deck I found the bar and made everyone drinks) Harry just stood up and stared at me, while Tobi and JJ ran up to me, I was quick to put the drinks on the closets surface to save them from being spilt everywhere. I welcomed Tobi and JJ with a hug. When they let go Harry had finally took it all in and realised I was here and ran towards me and tackled me onto the large sofa and gave me the biggest hug and repeating how much he had missed me.

The boys went up to the other side of the boat to give me and Harry some space to speak a bit and catch up, I told him about how my business meeting went well and how my brand is expanding and he was telling me about how the shoots were. We sat in comfortable silence after our conversation and I looked down at his legs and realised he was wearing sweat shorts and frowned, “You know I don’t think those are the best shorts to swim in”, “Don’t worry I’ve got some swim trunks with me”, “Where?”, He reached to his shoulder to prove that he has them and that they’re slung over his shoulder, I started laughing “I think you’ve flung them off the boat in excitement. We both looked over the side of the boat and low and behold there they were, bobbing along in the water. “Oh for fucks sake”

(Time skip)

It was soon time to have a bit of a feast on the boat me and harry sat next to eachother. Cal, Freezy and I weren’t that hungry considering about an hour and a half ago we had a full English, so we just stuck to some picky bits. There were many laughs and stories exchanged at the table mainly questions towards me cal and Freezy about how long we knew about this and how I managed to keep it a secret from harry.

Josh excused himself from the table to answer a phone call from Ethan which we all predicted was him complaint about the conditions he was currently in, we all told Josh to put it on speaker phone so we could hear his complaints and we were all creasing in laughter, at one point I wheezed which all the boys could recognise anywhere. Ethan picked up on it and shouted down the phone “Oi! Was that y/n? What the fuck, traitor! You said you would never go to the good team.” , “I fear you heard me wrong Behz, I said “I would never go to the good team if you were on it” “, my answers errupted in laughter and screams of shock from the boys. I then left and walked away to go a sunbathe and enjoy myself for a while.

With my headphones on and music playing I spent at least an hour sunbathing, unaware of the carnage going on around me. So when I took my headphones off and heard screaming and jet ski engines blaring I was very confused of how they did all this without disturbing me. I got up out of the deck chair and the whole top deck was soaked in wet foot prints and discarded towels, I watched over the side of the boat as the boys were jumping into the deep blue sea. Though all of a sudden I heard wet feet plodding behind me and I turned around to harry creeping up on me. “Harry, no!” “What are you talking about? I’m not going to do anything” I was then picked up and thrown into the water, harry still clinging onto me, “Harold! Why would you do that!” I scolded. “Just helping you cool off,” he shrugged. While all this happened the boys were looking down at us pointing and laughing.

I stayed in the ocean for a while until they started circling me with jet skis and trying to peer pressure me into going on the surf board, which i declined straight away and also the fact I was getting tired from the travelling and then sun beaming down on me. So I climbed back up the ladder and propped a nice parasol up to give me some shade and I decided to have a nap. A couple of minutes later I was woken up by Harry sitting next to me, “Why aren’t you laying down?” I asked, “I didn’t want to wake you and get you wet because you’ve seemed to have dried off and caught the sun already!”, “Don’t be silly come here.” I told him and opened my arms for him to cuddle into, and I started to play with his wet and tousled hair which he hummed in reply to. We both dozed off in each others hold, I did hear a camera shutter near by though I thought nothing of it a just thought it was Kirsty taking pictures of the boys on the jet skis. I jolted awake when I felt this large weight on top of my body and opened my eyes to see all the boys piling on top of me and harry, “what are you doing!” I exclaimed, “we’re basking in the love!” One of them replied and started making kissing noises to eachother, which me and harry both laughed at.

(Time skip to the villa)

Freezy pulled out his camera and started speaking “Lux, y/n this is the first time we’re gonna see it [the villa], we know it’s sick though because we know we’re in the good team.”

We got out of the car and I held Harry’s hand and walked up to the gates, waiting for them to open. Me and harry stayed behind the group because we haven’t had much alone time together since I arrived so we just distanced ourselves a little. I yawned and rubbed my eyes, “You tired?” Harry asked me “oh my gosh yes, I can’t wait to go to bed.” I groaned. When the gates opened my jaw dropped, this place was stunning, I want to live here!

“One thing is though these aren’t filled with water,” harry pointed at the small fountain at the front door, “I may have to leave a four star review because if this.” I slapped Harry’s shoulder jokingly “Don’t even start!” We walked through the front doors and me and JJ looked at eachother and immediately knew what to do, and I let go of Harry’s hand i quickly stood next to JJ and we started to sing the halo theme tune together in the large foyer. As we finished the boys laughed and and Freezy said “Ayy that’s the halo soundtrack!”

The boys started to give us a tour round the place and I was shocked at the size of the kitchen and the the large living room that looks out into the garden and also there’s a lift! They took us to the garden and told Cal, Freezy and I to face away and then turn around. JJ counted us down from 3 and when we turned around my eyes widened- the view was breathtaking…”you’ve got a mountain, in your back garden!” I exclaimed. The tour lasted awhile which I wasn’t surprised about because look at the size of this place. When they mentioned the poker table, mini arcade and the sauna I decided to find mine and Harry’s shared room and unpack my things because those things don’t interest me at all.

I had to memorise the route to mine and Harry’s room and started to unpack and when i finished I plopped myself onto the bed and let out a large sigh out of exhaustion. I heard the bedroom door open and close ,but I was too tired to lift my head up, and I felt the bed sink next to me and someone started to play with my hair. I opened my eyes to see Harry smiling down at me, “Did you see Freezys instagram story?” Harry questioned, “No not yet why?”, “Look..”

Calfreezy posted an instagram story…

“Aww they’re so cute! - even though I’ve been here for half a day already I’ve had so much fun.” I told harry, “I’m glad, because I’m really happy you’re here because you don’t know how much I’ve missed you, it’s been so boring and lonely coming home to no one for a month!”, “Don’t worry I couldn’t handle it either, I even told them at my meeting that from now on I’m working from home, so I can be with you more often.” Harry smiled and kissed my forehead. “Shall we get a shower and into some pjs and chill downstairs or do you want to watch a movie up here?” He asked me. “I think I want to watch a movie with you!” We went and got our shower and into some pjs which mine -again- consisted of one of Harry’s shirts and some shorts. We got tucked into bed and chose a movie that we both enjoy and I laid back and cuddle into harry and laying my head on his chest. We both fell into a deep slumber, not without saying “I love you” to eachother.

[xoxosierralane]

| ᴏғғɪᴄᴇ ʜᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴʟʏ |

✎ from sierra: hello hi there, my first time posting a fic on tumblr let’s hope i did this good..! and i also hope you guys enjoy this little chapter and lmk if you would like another, im also open to any ideas and writing tips. also ty to @sierrale8ne @thaatdigitaldiary & @bueckersbitch for some tips when i asked they def helped, you guys are lovely also check them out 🌺

✎ synopsis: when an overworked pre-med student wakes up late for class, the last thing she expects—aside from the existential spiral mid-lecture—is to be roped into tutoring UConn’s star point guard, Paige Bueckers. Paige is charismatic, cocky, and somehow always talking. The reader is sleep-deprived, sarcastic, and trying desperately to avoid any and all distractions. But when tutoring sessions turn into unexpected walks home, avoiding Paige becomes impossible. She’s not just a classmate—she’s a slow, sneaky problem. And worse? She lives next door.

✎ warnings: language

There are few sounds in this world more horrifying than your alarm going off thirty-five minutes after your class already started.

The second my eyes fly open, I know something is wrong. It’s that eerie, sun-too-bright, birds-too-loud kind of wrong. That creeping, soul-leaving-my-body realization as I blink at my phone screen and see the time:

9:53 AM.

Class started at nine. I should be halfway through pretending to understand biochem pathways by now, not halfway to a heart attack in bed.

I launch out of my sheets like a woman possessed, nearly tripping over the half-folded pile of laundry on my floor and banging my shin on the corner of my desk. (Why do dorm room desks always have the sharpest edges known to man?)

“Okay, okay, it’s fine,” I mutter to myself, pulling on the first pair of jeans I can find and a hoodie that may or may not have toothpaste stains on it. “You’re only, like, an hour late. People have survived worse.”

My hair’s still in the braids I did last night, thank God, because if I had to fight edge control and lateness at the same time, I would’ve just dropped out on the spot. I grab my bag, shove in a half-closed notebook, and toss a granola bar in my pocket like it’s some kind of sacrificial offering.

By the time I get to the lecture hall, I’m fully out of breath and lightly sweating. Cute. Nothing says “serious STEM major” like showing up late and looking like you just ran a 5K.

I try to sneak in, pulling the door open as quietly as possible (which means it creaks like it hasn’t been used since the Civil War), and immediately feel a hundred pairs of eyes swing in my direction. My professor pauses mid-slide.

“Nice of you to join us,” he says dryly, not even bothering to hide his smile.

“Sorry,” I mumble, keeping my head down as I scurry to the only open seat in the second row, of course. Because the back row? The safety zone? Taken. God has favorites, and I’m clearly not one of them.

I sink into the seat and pretend I didn’t just make a grand entrance. The girl next to me��blonde, tall, looks suspiciously like someone who could dunk on me if given the chance—glances over with a raised brow and the tiniest smirk.

“Rough morning?” she asks, her voice warm, a little teasing. It’s got that slightly drawn-out edge to it, like she grew up saying “pop” instead of “soda.”

I shoot her a look. “Don’t.”

She puts her hands up in mock defense but doesn’t stop smiling. Great. A morning person with cheekbones. Just what I needed.

I turn back to the lecture, trying to catch up on whatever enzyme he’s ranting about. Paige—yes, Paige Bueckers, UConn’s golden girl, sitting next to me like this is her seat or something—keeps glancing over at me every few minutes, like I’m the entertainment for the day.

Which, fine. I probably am. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

The lecture drones on, a blur of chemical structures and way too many acronyms. My brain’s already in fight-or-flight mode, and I’m trying to copy notes from the slide like my future depends on it—which it kinda does, because if I bomb this class, there goes med school, and if I don’t go to med school, then what? Sell overpriced vitamins on TikTok? Start a podcast about burnout?

I sink lower in my seat, hoping to disappear entirely.

“Alright,” the professor says, tapping his remote like it owes him money. “Can anyone explain the mechanism here?”

Silence. Beautiful, holy silence. For a second, I think we might all get away with it.

Then—

“Maya?”

I freeze. My neck actually creaks when I turn my head up to look at him. “Sorry?”

He smiles like this is fun for him. “The mechanism. For the rate-limiting step of glycolysis.”

Of course it’s glycolysis. Of course it’s this unit. I glance down at my notes, which may as well be scribbled in a dead language, and I swear my soul briefly exits my body.

Okay. Think. You’ve studied this. You’ve done flashcards at 2 a.m. like a responsible, sleep-deprived adult. You can do this.

“…Hexokinase?” I offer, which I immediately realize is wrong because his eyebrow twitches.

“Not quite,” he says. “Anyone else?”

I want to melt into the floor. I want the Earth to crack open beneath me and swallow me whole like a Greek tragedy. Why would you call on someone who was just 50 minutes late and visibly unwell?

I drop my gaze to my notebook, which now has a sad little doodle of a frowning mitochondrion in the margin, and let myself mentally spiral.

Maybe this is a sign. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me to give up and open a dog café somewhere in Portland. Maybe academic success is a capitalist scam designed to break me emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Maybe—

“You were close,” a voice whispers next to me, low enough that only I can hear. “It’s phosphofructokinase.” I glance over. Paige’s lips are twitching like she’s trying not to laugh.

Oh. So she’s not only annoying and smug—she’s smart, too. Fantastic.

I give her a blank look, then scribble it in the margin like I knew it all along. I don’t thank her. I’m not that gracious yet.

The professor moves on. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and slouch back into my seat.

I don’t even know how Paige knows that answer. I swear she’s never said a single academic thing in class before—usually just nods like she’s vibing through the lecture, and now suddenly she’s a glycolysis expert?

I glance at her again. She’s leaned back in her chair like she doesn’t have a single worry in the world. Her hoodie sleeves are pulled over her hands and she’s tapping a pencil against her notebook, looking out the window like she’s half-listening, half daydreaming.

God, I hate her.

Not really. Just enough to feel mildly personally attacked by her existence.

By the time the professor finally wraps up, my brain feels like someone stuck it in a microwave on defrost. Half-melted, barely functioning, and emitting a faint hum of defeat.

I’m already halfway through mentally mapping my route to the dining hall—food, nap, forget this day ever happened—when I hear the worst possible words.

“Maya, could you stay back for a second?”

I freeze with my laptop halfway into my bag. No. No. Please no. My stomach drops, already bracing for the we’re concerned about your academic performance speech. Or maybe he’s just gonna roast me for being late. Publicly. Again.

Next to me, Paige doesn’t move. Which is weird because usually she’s the first one out the door, bouncing off to whatever practice or photoshoot or press interview she’s contractually obligated to pretend she enjoys.

“You too, Paige,” the professor adds casually.

Ah. So it’s a group scolding. Cute.

I glance at her. She shrugs, and somehow even her shrug is smug. Like she already knows what this is about and I’m the one being dragged into something against my will.

Once everyone else filters out, the room goes quiet in that awkward way classrooms do when it’s just you, your mistakes, and the person paid to evaluate them.

The professor folds his arms. “I’m going to get right to it,” he says, eyes flicking between us. “Paige has been… struggling a bit to keep up.”

I blink. Paige?

She doesn’t even flinch. Just shifts her weight to one leg and tilts her head like, yeah, and?

“She came to me earlier,” he continues, “asking for extra support. And I mentioned you, Maya.”

My brain short-circuits. “Me?”

“Yes.” He gestures vaguely, like this makes perfect sense. “You’ve got one of the top quiz averages in the class. And I know you don’t have a lot of free time, but I thought you might be willing to help.”

I open my mouth to respond, and nothing comes out except a confused squeak.

Paige, meanwhile, is suddenly all charm and dimples. “Only if it’s not too much trouble,” she says sweetly, looking at me like I’m the answer to her prayers instead of the barely-holding-it-together girl who almost cried during a glycolysis question.

I stare at her. Then the professor. Then back at her. This is a setup. Has to be.

“I mean,” I say slowly, “I guess I could… help out. A little.”

The professor claps his hands once, like this was the easiest part of his day. “Great. Work out whatever schedule makes sense. Maybe start after the next lecture?”

“Sounds perfect,” Paige says, and I swear there’s a glint in her eye. Mischievous. Knowing.

I nod numbly, the weight of this decision already settling on my shoulders like a second backpack full of regrets.

As I head for the door, I mutter under my breath, “This is going to end badly.”

“Sorry?” Paige pipes up behind me.

“Nothing,” I lie, faster than a reflex. “See you later.”

She grins, following me out with way too much pep for someone allegedly struggling. “Can’t wait.”

And I suddenly remember: this is the same girl who walked in late the first week, said “yo, do we need the textbook for this?” in front of the whole class, and then somehow got a laugh out of the professor.

God help me.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m standing in the library, clutching three textbooks and a syllabus I plan to set on fire. This day has already been long enough, now apparently, Paige “needs a little help” with some of the material. And apparently, I am just the student for the job.

I hate when people say “it’ll be good experience.” It always means work I don’t want to do for free.

The librarian waves at me as I step in—Ms. Marie, always with the peach-colored cardigans and peppermint candies. “Back again?”

“Like a bad habit,” I mumble, shooting her a smile. “Just grabbing some stuff for tutoring.”

“Ooh. Teaching now?”

“Trying not to cry in public,” I answer, and she laughs like I’ve said something adorable instead of tragic.

I spend way too long in the aisles, gathering books and stalling. Mostly thinking about how good I’m gonna sleep when I get back to my apartment. Seriously. The second my cheek hits the pillow? Instant peace. Probably coma-level sleep. I should be studied for science. Sleep is my love language. Sleep is the one thing in my life that hasn’t betrayed me.

I’m still mentally composing a love letter to my bed when I round a corner and see her—Paige, standing near the checkout desk, talking to one of the guys from the men’s team. He’s smiling like he thinks he has a chance. Good luck with that. Paige Bueckers is gay as fuck.

I snort before I can stop myself, just a short, soft laugh—but she hears it. Her head turns. Our eyes meet.

Oh.

She looks surprised. Not mad, not even curious, just… like she wasn’t expecting me.

And now I’ve made eye contact. Like a dumbass. I quickly duck back behind the shelf, gripping a biochem book like it’s a shield.

Great. Just great. Nothing says “competent tutor” like spying on your student and laughing at her across the library.

—

I give it a minute before circling around the long way and heading to the study room Hanes booked for us. Small, quiet, lots of windows. I stake out the seat closest to the door in case I need to make a dramatic escape.

Paige walks in a few minutes later, all long legs and blonde hair and that basketball-player stride—like she owns the space without trying to. She doesn’t say anything at first, just drops her bag and slides into the seat next to me.

I brace myself. Here we go.

She pulls out a notebook, then a pen. Then nothing. Just sits there.

I glance at her, waiting for her to do… something. Say something. Start. Breathe.

“Are you gonna, like… open the textbook, or…”

“I was letting you do your thing first,” she says, like I’m the one who showed up five minutes late and smelled like citrus gum and lavender hand cream. Her voice has that easy, confident rhythm to it—Minnesota smooth with a little edge, like she grew up chirping boys on the blacktop.

I give her a look. “My ‘thing’ is desperately trying not to cry while re-reading the same paragraph seven times.”

She smiles, wide and real. “Relatable.”

There’s a pause. Not awkward exactly, but quiet enough to make me weirdly self-aware of how close our chairs are. I pull out my laptop to have something to do with my hands.

“So,” I say, flipping to the study guide, “Professor Hanes said you’re struggling with the last few sections. You’ve looked at the review packet?”

Paige shrugs, leaning back in her chair a little too casually. “Kind of. I just—I don’t know. I get the gist, but some stuff doesn’t stick.”

“That’s usually how it works when you don’t study.”

She raises a brow at me like she wasn’t expecting me to have teeth. “I do study.”

I raise mine right back. “Instagram Reels don’t count.”

Her mouth twitches. It’s either amusement or offense. Could go either way with girls like her.

“You always this friendly?”

“No,” I deadpan. “Usually I’m meaner.”

That gets a laugh out of her—low and genuine, like it surprised her. She leans in slightly, chin propped on her hand.

“So why’d you agree to help me?”

“I didn’t,” I reply, flipping a page. “Hanes kind of voluntold me. Said it would be ‘good practice.’”

“Bet you were thrilled.”

“Overjoyed. I love giving up my one free evening to explain gen chem to someone who probably uses Gatorade as a chaser.”

Another smile from her. This one lasts a little longer.

“You always this funny?”

“I’m not trying to be funny,” I mutter, but my mouth won’t quite stop twitching.

We get into the material slowly—me talking through concepts, her asking questions here and there. She’s actually more focused than I expected. Still fidgety, still Paige Bueckers in all her tall, confident, knows-people-are-watching energy—but she’s trying. I can give her that.

Halfway through, she lets out a sigh and scrubs a hand over her face. “Okay, but why are there so many exceptions to every rule? Like, who made these up?”

“Science,” I reply. “Also colonialism.”

She tilts her head. “You’re not wrong.”

Another beat of silence. Then she asks, “What’s your major?”

“Pre-med. Bio track.”

She whistles, low. “Damn. That’s sick.”

I shrug. “It’s fine. If you enjoy stress-induced migraines and disappointing your family.”

Paige grins. “Bet your mom’s proud of you.”

“She is,” I admit, softer now. “But I also think she thinks I sleep more than I do.”

Paige’s voice is light when she says, “You don’t strike me as a slacker.”

“I’m not,” I say, yawning. “But if I had one wish? It would be to sleep for a solid twelve hours. Maybe fourteen. Maybe forever. I love sleep. Like, I would marry it. I’d elope with sleep to another country and never text anyone back.”

Paige chuckles. “That’s dramatic.”

“That’s survival,” I correct, grabbing a pen to tap against her notes. “Now stop stalling and write that formula down before I cry.”

She leans in again, not writing yet. Just watching me. “You kinda mean.”

“You’re kind of loud.”

“Touché.”

We keep working, but the space between us softens just a little. There’s something about the way she shifts a little closer when I’m showing her something, or how she asks questions like she actually wants to know the answer. She’s still full of herself, but in a way that makes me want to roll my eyes and pay attention.

And then there’s the eye contact. God. Paige Bueckers and her Olympic-level commitment to staring directly into my soul.

Like—I’m trying to explain the electron configuration of potassium, and she’s looking at me like I might be the answer to something she’s been trying to solve for years. Icy blue eyes, lashes curled to the heavens, a little swipe of mascara like she knew she’d be making people nervous today.

And by people, I mean me. Specifically me.

It’s honestly kind of rude. Intimidating. Possibly illegal. There should be a warning label or something: DO NOT MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH PAIGE BUECKERS UNLESS YOU ARE READY TO BE HYPER-ANALYZED AND POSSIBLY SEDUCED.

Because I swear—I swear—the way she looks at me? It’s not just eye contact. It’s eye-to-future-entanglement contact. Like she’s trying to hypnotize me out of my panties with just her stare and that stupid smirk she keeps trying to hide behind her hand.

Focus. I need to focus. This is chemistry. Not chemistry-chemistry. I’m not gonna be another gay kid that fails a class because I couldn’t stop thinking about some pretty basketball player with really good hair.

No offense to everyone else who’s fallen into that trap. (none taken)

“Okay,” I say, tapping my pen against my notebook and not looking at her eyes again, “that’s ionic bonding, which means we’re finally done with chapter four.”

Paige stretches her arms above her head with a small groan, the hem of her hoodie lifting just enough to flash a sliver of skin. I look away instantly, like a respectable person. Like someone not currently battling the urge to spiral into a gay panic over five seconds of midriff.

“Thank God,” she sighs dramatically, flopping back in her chair like she just ran drills for two hours. “You know, I think I actually learned something.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You say that like you’re surprised.”

“I am surprised,” she grins, tugging at the sleeve of her hoodie. “You’re kinda scary-smart.”

I blink. “Scary?”

“In a good way,” she adds quickly. “Like, in a ‘you could probably build a robot army and take over the world but choose not to’ kind of way.”

“…Thanks?”

She smiles like she means it. Like maybe that was a compliment in her language. And for some reason, it sticks with me.

I start gathering my things, stuffing pens and half-crumpled notes into my backpack like the burnt-out academic I am. “Well, we’re scheduled again next Thursday unless your Coach pulls you for something.”

Paige doesn’t move to leave. She leans back in her chair, arms folded behind her head, watching me with that same annoyingly intense gaze.

“You always study here?” she asks casually, like she didn’t just spend two hours fighting for her life over basic chem.

“Sometimes,” I reply, zipping up my bag. “It’s quiet. And the librarian doesn’t hate me.”

“That’s a plus.”

“You?”

She shrugs. “Ehh usually with the team. Or, like, wherever has food.”

I hum, trying to keep the conversation from stretching too long. I’m not great at lingering—especially not with people like her. The kind of person who walks into a room and owns it without even trying.

I sling my bag over my shoulder, already planning my post-study nap in vivid, loving detail, but before I can escape—

“You wanna walk out together?”

I pause, blinking at her.

Not because it’s weird. But because I hadn’t expected it. Most athletes don’t even remember the names of their TAs, much less offer to walk them out of the library like it’s some sort of… soft exit interview.

I glance at the clock. It’s getting late. But also, she’s looking at me like I’m someone worth lingering around.

“Sure,” I say. Casually. Like my heart isn’t already doing cartwheels.

She grins, standing to her full height (good holy 6ft..), and my only thought as we walk side by side toward the doors is God help me, I might be in trouble.

Because Paige Bueckers is something else.

And apparently, she’s not going anywhere.

—

The night air hits us as we step out of the library, and it’s just cold enough to make me regret not grabbing a hoodie. Of course, Paige doesn’t seem bothered at all. She walks like she’s immune to weather. Or like the wind parts just for her. Probably both.

For a moment, it’s quiet. Awkwardly so. My favorite kind.

Then, Paige starts talking.

And when I say talking, I mean talking. Like she hasn’t spoken to another human being all day and I just unlocked the floodgates.

“So, like, I’ve had the same pair of slides since I was fifteen, right?” she says, hands in the front pocket of her hoodie. “They’re disgusting. Like, actually offensive. I think they’ve developed their own bacteria strain at this point. But I can’t get rid of them. They’re like emotional support shoes. You ever have something like that?”

I blink. “Uh…”

She barrels right past my lack of response. “And then Aaliyah tried to throw them out once when we were on the road and I almost tackled her in the hotel hallway. She was like, ‘Paige, they smell like shit.’ But they don’t. They smell like loyalty.”

She grins at her own joke. I say nothing.

Not because I don’t want to. But mostly because what?

I nod along, mostly to be polite. Or maybe out of shock. I’m not really sure.

She keeps going. “Also, can I ask you a question? Why do all chemistry textbooks weigh as much as small toddlers? Like, what are they putting in there? Guilt? Disappointment?”

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it, which unfortunately only fuels her further.

She talks about basketball. Then her best friend’s dog. Then how she’s still mad Chipotle took her favorite salsa off the menu. She has opinions on everything from cafeteria chicken to the superiority of Apple Music over Spotify (she’s wrong, but I let her have it).

And the weirdest part?

It’s not annoying.

It should be. But it’s not.

I listen. Mostly because I’m stunned by how easily she fills the space between us, how her voice softens when she gets excited and how, even when she’s rambling, she makes it feel like you’re part of the story.

It’s… unsettling.

I don’t do people like her. I don’t get people like her.

And yet here she is. Walking next to me. Talking like we’ve done this a thousand times before.

And then, as if this night couldn’t get any weirder, she slows down in front of my building.

I stop too.

Paige pauses, looking at the entrance. Then looks at me. “Wait—you live here?”

“Yeah,” I say slowly, pointing to the left. “Top floor.”

She blinks. “Shut up.”

“I will not.”

She grins, pointing to the right. “That’s my building.”

I stare at her for a second. Then glance up. Then back at her.

This cannot be real life.

“You’re telling me we’ve lived next to each other this whole time and this is the first time I’m finding out?”

I sigh. “This is just great.”

“Great?” she echoes, clearly amused.

“Yeah. Fantastic. Love this for me.”

She’s still smiling like this is the best coincidence to ever happen. Like fate just personally delivered her a win.

I just shake my head, digging my keys out of my pocket. “Well. Thanks for the walk. And the verbal TED Talk.”

She bows slightly. “Anytime.”

I turn to head inside, pausing with my hand on the door.

“Hey,” she calls.

I look back.

“Same time Thursday right?”

I nod once. “Sure.”

She salutes me with two fingers, still grinning, then turns and jogs up the steps to her building.

I stand there for a moment, key still in hand, trying to process everything. The tutoring. The talking. The proximity.

This is going to be a nightmare.

I let myself into the building, already craving sleep and silence and maybe a three-day nap. But even as I make it upstairs and fall face-first onto my bed, one thought keeps bouncing around my head like it’s got a key to the place:

Paige Bueckers is going to be a problem.

[vitentia]

DEAR DIARY, DAY TWO OF HAVING A GIRLFRIEND….MIGHT DIE.

pairings ━━ jackson!ellie williams x reader

warnings ━━ tooth rotting fluff I fear

synopsis ━━ you like Ellie, ellie likes you, she grows enough tit to ask you out and surprise! you said yes! yet somehow you’re more nervous around your girlfriend than when she was your crush…AGH!

authors note ━━ did I go ghost for a year? yes. did I hear someone ask for more fluff/angst amidst freaktober on tumblr? also yes. I have come to provide🫡

IMPORTANT note — if you wanna request an Ellie or Abby fic, just pm me! I think coming up with all the fics on my own is the reason I burnt out but send me any ideas you have that aren’t smut bc I SUCK at writing that. Im also considering writing for arcane?? So yeah!

Cleaning horse shit isn’t the sexiest job in the world, which is why you were eternally grateful your girlfriend had been assigned to go on patrol with Tommy this morning. Even the thought of “your girlfriend” sent shivers down your spine and a red hot blush on your cheeks. You sniffled and wiped your cheek against your shoulder, conveniently the jacket your girlfriend, Ellie, had given you last night.

Again, you fought back a smile as the words “my girlfriend, ellie” popped into your head. Just 48 hours ago you were accepting the fact that you might have to yearn for the brunette from afar for the rest of your lives, and today you were biting your lips trying not to look too happy shoveling actual shit.

“Hey girlie!” Called out the man in charge, his big gut making it’s way into the shed before his head did as he leaned against his favorite horses stead. “You’ve been relieved. Tommy and Ellie are on their way back, just put the girls back where they belong and I’ll feed them, get it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.” He replied quickly before raising the pitch of his voice and cooing down at the large horse between his palms like a baby.

You snickered at his actions but couldn’t resist the speedy pace you walked at as you grabbed your hanging bag and ran towards the shed bathroom. As soon as you locked the door behind you, you immediately shoved off your almost knee length rubber boots and changed into your cutest (aka least creased) boots. Despite not having any perfume like they did back then, you did make sure to grab a special bar of soap before you left your house and scrubbed the lavender scent into your arms like your life depended on it. Looking in the dirty mirror, you tried to vaguely make out whether or not you looked presentable. You tried lowering the v-cut shirt you were wearing but immediately shook your head and decided against it.

Just as you were in between hyping yourself up and finding an escape route, the guards on top shouted out, stating that the doors were opening.

You were a nervous wreck. Constantly pushing your hair in front of your forehead and then behind your ear while simultaneously walking towards the front of Jackson where your girlfriend would be making an entrance.

With the sun beaming behind her head and shining her brown locks into a beautiful golden color, you had to raise your hand above your eyes to protect yourself. Has she always been this beautiful or are the God’s reminding me how perfect my girlfriend is?

“Millers! You’re back early.” A nearby card player called out, kicking his feet back against a wooden barrel with a cigarette hanging half out of his mouth.

“Yeah well, Ellie was killin’ them things left and right. Would’ve thought she had somewhere to be.” Tommy joked, sliding off his horse and giving you the reigns with a smile. For a second, your heart skipped a beat, believing she might’ve told him on their journey.

“Hey, if you’re a lousy shot, just say that.” Ellie teased him back with a shrug, remaining on her horse with no movement towards getting down. You looked up at her in confusion but as soon as your eyes connected, you immediately looked away, feeling your face burn.

“Yeah, next time I go out on patrol I know who to call.” The man chuckled

“Thank you, man.” Tommy beamed

“Not you, dipshit.”

You and Ellie let out a surprised cackle, and while you tried covering yours up with a cough as Tommy glared in your direction, Ellie couldn’t hold back her hearty laugh. She slapped her thigh and wiped an invisible tear from her eye as Tommy rambled on. While her uncle turned his anger to the card player, she caught your eye and motioned her head towards the stables.

“Lead the way.”

You nodded and lowered your gaze again, mentally freaking out as you guided Tommy’s horse back into her stable with Ellie following close behind on her own. Whilst you removed her gear gently, you could hear the clanging of Ellie following suit behind you. And when she finished, she simply watched you.

“You’re so gentle with them.” You jumped at her words, not expecting her to be so close as she leaned against the entrance of the stable. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” She chuckled lightly.

“No, you’re good I, uh, I have this…idea that they’re so on edge from being outside that they can’t really tell when it’s time to relax and when it’s time to work. So I just try to make the transition easier, you know? No loud noises, extra treats, stuff like that..” You answered, giving the ol’ girl a nice rub on her sides.

Ellie hummed and leaned her body backwards, looking both ways to see if anyone was around before stepping into the stable you were in. Her steps were slow as she approached you and you resisted the urge to step away, not for any reason besides you literally thought you might combust being this close to her.

She stood in front of you, eyes staring deeply into yours while her hands remained at her sides. “I’ve been thinking about you all morning.” She said in a low voice.

“Really?”

“Of course.” Her head lowered to find your hands, she clasped both of your hands in both of hers as she admired you. “How could I not?”

Your mind was screaming, blaring alarms, and throwing burning papers in the air as the people in your head attempted to regulate…well everything.

You let out an airy chuckle and looked down bashfully. “Well, you’re lucky you didn’t see me an hour before.” She gave you a confused look, so you continued. “I was cleaning up after the horses.”

Ellie looked up at the ceiling and thought about the vagueness of your words before a smile grew on her cheeks. She lifted her hand to cup her cheek to look her in the eye. “I think you would’ve looked beautiful anyway.”

“Shoveling horse shit?” You snorted

She shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t get in your mouth, no harm, no foul, right?”

“Ewww!” You whined as Ellie laughed at your reaction. You shivered at the thought. “Too early.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” She surrendered, admiring your entire face for a minute before looking behind her quickly. “Hey…” she whispered, almost nervous in a way.

“Hey.”

She moved closer to you, reaching up to stroke your cheek and hoping you wouldn’t notice the way her hand shook the entire way up. “Can I get a kiss?”

Your heart leaped. Your vocal chords were nowhere to found, so you attempted a simple nod. But Ellie smiled at you and shook her head.

“Can I hear you say it?”

You gulped. “Please kiss me, Ellie.”

With a wide smile, she leaned in and connected your lips so gently, you felt like you were being kissed by a fairy. She let you both grow comfortable in the kiss before pulling away lightly, giving you the same chance, and leaning in once more when you chased after her lips. The two of you remained in a tight embrace, neither pushing the others boundary too much but putting enough pressure to know she were there. For a minute, you forgot where you were.

“Hey girlie!” A voice boomed

The two of you pulled away in shock, looking between each other before you quickly looked around at your surroundings and hurriedly threw a brown bag in Ellie’s direction. She caught it in both arms before spinning around to face the burly old man who sauntered over.

“Williams. What are you doing in my shed?” He questioned her.

You popped out from the other side of the horse and patted her side. “Sorry, sir. She wanted to give the girls some treats for their hard work out there.”

He looked between you two suspiciously before crossing his arms over his chest and staring at Ellie with a look you couldn’t put your finger on. “So you’re the one who’s been sneaking my girls extra snacks, eh?”

Ellie’s mouth opened and closed for a second before sighing and handing him the bag as if she’d been caught. “Yep, it’s me. Sorry, man.”

He sucked his teeth and snatched the bag out of her hand, reaching inside to grab a red apple and bite into it. “You’re lucky you’ve saved my ass more times than I can count, Williams.” He pointed at her and then to you. “And you, stop bein’ so damn nice. Y’all are gonna fatten my horses up. Now, get.”

You and Ellie swiftly made your way out of the horse shed, walking side by side inconspicuously throughout Jackson. Your hands occasionally bumped each other and you both resisted the urge to grab it. Ellie, because she didn’t want her business out to the whole world, and you, because your hands were probably dripping from how sweaty they felt.

You’d never felt this nervous around anyone. The secrecy of your relationship made it all the more wild. And yeah, it would be nice for everyone to know that Ellie is yours.

It’s also just nice being able to tell yourself that Ellie fucking Williams is your girlfriend.

[luvyeni]

DRUNK LOVERS GAME 𝕼. ( 박원빈 )

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 박원빈 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. sexual tension, drinking, language, unprotected sex, strangers to lovers word count. 3.6k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

synopsis … playing a sex drinking game with … even though this is the first time yall met.

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ based on a card game i saw on tiktok shop 😭

‘We’re hosting a sleepover , tonight and since you’ll be here you have to participate’ should’ve been a red flag , why as college students would you have a sleepover?

correction; sleepover meant your roommate’s were inviting their boyfriends over to spend the night and they had a friend who was single and your roommates had the bright idea of setting you two up for the night. “come on , he’s super cute.” isa stood in your doorway. “don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“yes , but i also have eyes and i can see that wonbin is super cute.” she flopped down on your bed. “and you’re hot too , and you’re both single.” she said. “you two are a perfect match.” you turned around in your chair to face her. “im not having sex with him just so you can have sex with yours without feeling bad that i have to hear how loud you are being.” you turned to your other roommate chloe who was now standing in your doorway. “you either.”

“we never said you had to have sex with him.” isa said. “just don’t be a bitch to him, be nice and make him feel welcomed.” both of your roommates now sitting on your bed. “does he even know he’s about to be set up?” they looked at each other. “well sorta , seunghan felt bad leaving him alone in the apartment , so we told them to invite him over and we’ll introduce him to someone.” chloe said. “you being that someone.”

you sighed , you really didn’t want to do this; but where were you gonna go? it’s 10:30 and all your friends are gonna be occupied so you can’t go drink. “fuck it , fine i’ll entertain the guy my friends and their boyfriends sold me to for the night.” you said standing up. “okay now go get changed.” you stared at them. “and why would i do that?” you looked down at the fresh pajamas you just put on. “these are clean i swear.”

“yn you’re wearing minion pajama pants and a shirt 7 sizes too big for you , who’s shirt is that?” isa said. “it’s my dads , i think.” you said. “it has holes and stains on it.” chloe scrunched up her nose up in disgust. “you said i didn’t have to seduce him.” you stood hand on your hip. “yeah you also don’t have to run him away purposely ; take the damn thing off and change into a shirt little appealing and with less stains and holes.” your grumbled , going into your closet. “im keeping the pants on.” you turned around showing them the tank top. “appealing enough?”

“perfect that tank makes your boobs look nice and plump.” you rolled your eyes; taking your shirt off throwing it to the floor. “my comfy shirt replaced by this tank all in the sake of a boy i’ve never met.” you put the shirt on. “good.” they both gave you a thumbs up. “the pants are terrible , but he won’t be paying much attention to those especially when your boobs are literally all perked up like that.”

you helped set up the the food and blankets up for the movie. “these blankets here; yeah throw them away in the morning i want nothing to do with them after you all use them during the movie.” you shook disgusted. “don’t think like that yn.” isa said. “yeah , we’re all adults we’ll just get up and go into the room.” they both smirked while you looked mortified. “im gonna throw up.” you said; just as someone knocked on the door. “oh yn go get that ; isa is still doing that over there, and i have to go to bedroom to get some more things.”

you got up from the chair; going over to the door, opening it , the three boys standing in front of you; you’ve met sungchan and seunghan in passing , but you’ve never fully hung out with them. “hi.” seunghan said. “yn right?” you nodded. “yeah , they don’t have another roommate that i'm aware of so that would be me.” the one behind them chuckled. “come in, they're finished setting up.” you said , stepping to the side to let them in. “hannie!” you watched isa stop what she was doing to run over and hug the boy, chloe coming out to greet sungchan. “what’s that?” you pointed to the bag in her hands. “oh nothing , just something for later.” she said ominously. “oh that’s frightening.”

wonbin was fine with staying home; he really was, but his roommates had other ideas. “it’s just for one night.” sungchan said. “and yn is a nice girl.” seunghan said. “you just said you’ve only said hi and bye to her.” he said. “yeah and she was nice each and every time.” the younger boy said. “they don’t want her to feel left out in her own apartment , and it’s not like you have anything to do.”

and that’s how wonbin found himself in your apartment; staring at a girl in minion pajamas. “nice pajamas.” you looked down , back at him. “thank you.” both your friends forget about the both of you. “im yn.” you held your hand out. “you can shake it , i don’t bite.” he smiled , taking your hand shaking it. “see , unharmed , come on.” you said guiding him to the living room. “sorry my friends pushed me on you.” you said , chloe slapped your shoulder. “yn don’t say it like that , be nice.” she said , wonbin laughed; you were funny he had to admit, blunt but funny. “that was being nice , it wasn’t an attack on him.” you shot back. “she’s not always this bad.” she said. “she’s 10 times worst.” isa said sitting on seunghans lap. “trust once she’s had a drink she’ll soften up.”

“well let’s hope she does.” he said, staring at you as you walked; you were cute, talking to yourself in the kitchen as you prepared the drinks for everyone. “go help her.” sungchan said , he nodded , sitting his bag down following you into the kitchen. “do you need help?” you turned around to face the boy. “sure , you can be useful.” you handed him the bottles of soju , you held the cups , walking back into the living room. “thank you yn.” seunghan said , you nodded , sitting on the floor to give them space on the couch; wonbin sat down next to you.

the six of you sat around the table; eating food, drinking and joking around together. it was all fun , and wonbin wasn’t bad at all either. he was super nice and sweet , he poured your drinks , and got you food. he ever laughed at your horrible jokes when your friends didn’t. “he’s a better friend than you two are and i’ve known him for 3 hours.” you said, your friends rolling their eyes. “he even complimented my minion pants.” wonbin laughed next to you, you really did soften up once you had a drink. “he’s my new friend you two can go.”

“yeah? wonbin you agree with this?” seunghan said , his arm around isa. “of course.” wonbin responded , his knee bumping against yours, you both hadn’t even realized how close you’ve become. “so you both wouldn’t mind coupling up for the night to play a game?” chloe said. you both turned to each other. “are they trying to trick us?” you asked. “what game.” wonbin said , taking a sip of his drink. “it’s a drinking game.”

isa pulled the box of cards from the bag you saw earlier, you stared suspiciously at the box as she sat them on the table. “drunk lovers drinking game?” you read the box. “are you serious?” you scoffed. “why do you buy such nonsense?” your friend smiled. “late online shopping with a bottle of soju , now we have this.” she said. “let’s play.” everyone agreed , wonbin turned to you. “you wanna play.” he asked , you shrugged. “what’s the worst that could happen?”

“lick your partner below the waist or drink twice.” your eyes widened as you watched sungchan lift up isa’s shirt , licking right below her waists. “what the hell is this game.” you snatched the box off the table , reading it off. “what does it say?” wonbin said. “there’s two decks of cards , the pink ones are more tame and the black ones are….” you trailed off. “dirty.”

how the hell were you and wonbin gonna play this game? “chloe it’s your turn.” your friend picked up a pink card. “share your thoughts on an open relationship or drink once.” she read , sungchan sat up. “don’t you dare pick that drink up. “what !? i wasn’t.” she said. “don’t you two start fighting.” isa said. “go on.” sungchan said. “obviously i hate it , if you ever think of asking to go open it up , the cops will only find your ear.” she said turning to her boyfriend. “and what do you think about them?” she said , wonbin watched you look at the couple on the couple who clearly were in love with amusement , he then looked at the card game — which one was he supposed to pick , the pink one was based on relationship questions; he hardly knew you , as sweet and attractive you were , he’d only known you for 3 hours.

and he couldn’t pick up the black one; once again he knew you and what if he gets a super dirty one. “okay yn , you go.” you looked around the table; the pink ones were the obvious safe choice. “just chose the pink one.” wonbin said; you picked the card up , reading off it. “maintain intimate eye contact with your partner, first one of you to laugh had to take a drink.” you read , okay it’s not so bad. “oh yn is laughing first forsure.” isa said.

you and wonbin faced each other; you could already feel your face heating up, wonbin was extremely attractive and his eyes were naturally sensual and intimate. “i don’t know wonbin looks like he’s gonna break first , his hands look a little shaky.” it felt like forever before you just couldn’t take it anymore , you let out a shaky awkward laugh , looking away. “told you.” isa said , wonbin smirked , watching you take a shot , fanning your hot face. “yn you need a minute?” chloe smirked , you gave her the finger. “wonbin your turn.”

he went to reach for a pink card , when sungchan put his hand in front of it. “come on switch it up man , they already did two pinks.” he moved his hand over to the black deck , praying he didn’t get something drastic. “read it.” seunghan said; he turned the card around to red , his face turn it red. “what does it say?” you asked , he showed you the card , your eyes widened. “we can’t do that.”

“what does it say?” chloe asked , everyone looking interested in the answer. “recreate your partners favorite sex position.” wonbin said. “well.” isa said. “yn what’s your favorite position.” your eyes widened at the sudden invasion of your privacy. “we-well.” you scratched the back of your neck. although he was just as floored as you , he still was curious. “it’s missionary , but that’s not the point we can’t — lay back.” wonbin said , everyone turning to him. “huh?”

“yeah huh?” sungchan said; it might’ve been the alcohol talking , or maybe it was you being all flustered; but he just said fuck it. “i said lay back.” he repeated. “bu-but —if you don’t you have to take five shots of soju.” isa threw at you , the group on the couch oohing in a dramatic way. “what , the card says two.” you shot back. “my game , my rules.” you were gonna kill her. “go on.” chloe said. “you can do it.”

you couldn’t; you really couldn’t — but you did , you laid back on the floor. wonbins hands came up to your calf’s , pushing your legs apart , slotting himself in between; his hands on both sides of your head, he was now hovering above you; his gold chain dangling in front of your face. “how long do we have to do this.” wonbin asked. “the card says a minute.” he looked down at you ; taking in your face, your eyes were shut tight , hands in little fists. you could feel his lower half pressed against yours meanwhile he was thinking about ever unappealing thing he could think of so he wouldn’t get hard. you finally opened your eyes , and he prayed the time would finally come before you could feel him. “okay , times up.”

the two of you quickly unattached yourselves from each other. “wow both of you are extremely flustered right now.” chloe laughed. “shut up , just go.” you said , unable to look at anyone; especially the boy next to you who was the exact same way.

the rest of the game was not easy; in fact it seems like the game got even worse; the cards got even raunchy, even the pink ones seemed too much for you. “okay yn that’s the last card and it’s yours.” sungchan said , and it was a black one. you turned to wonbin who was already missing a shirt due to his last card pick , now that you weren’t complaining too much about , but you could already see his skin beet red; the godforsaken gold chain laying on his bare chest. “hey yn stop staring and go.” isa teased , making them laugh. “shut up.” you picked the card up. “give your partner a hickey.”

wonbin felt like he was going through the wringer already with this game; and this , your lips on his neck — how the hell was he gonna get through the night with a fucking hard on? the soju was gone so you couldn’t drink. “it’s the last card , let go out with a bang before we watch movies.” chloe said , wiggling her eyebrows. “o-okay.” you turned to wonbin. “how the hell do i do this?” you said to yourself. “just , come here.” he pulled you into his lap. “oh look how fast they’re moving.” seunghan said tipsy from the alcohol. “shut up.” wonbin said. “you’ve given a hickey before?”

“of course.” you said , just not to a boy you met five hours ago , and especially not a boy this attractive. “move your head to the side.” he felt your lips on his neck and he swore he almost let out a moan; and both your friends were cheering you both on. he clenched his fist to keep himself from letting out a noise as you sucked on his neck. after like 2 minutes of you sucking on his neck you finally pulled away, a red blotch appearing on his skin , you quickly climbed off the boy. “okay , game over.” you said. “let’s watch the movie.”

you grabbed all the empty bottles; running into the kitchen to throw them in the trash. wonbin grabbed the extra trash following behind you to leave the couples to clean up the card game. “you okay?” he said , you nodded , not turning around. “i-im fine.” you stuttered out , you finally turned around. “put your shirt back on.” you said. “why are you flustered still.” he smirked. “no , it’s cold.” you said , running past him back into the living room, he laughed to himself throwing the trash out, making his way back into the living room.

“you’ll thank us later for this.” isa said. “will i? how will this benefit me?” you said. “look at wonbins eyes and tell me he doesn’t want to fuck you , that’s how it will.” you two broke up your little circle , making your way back to the floor. “here.” he sat down next to you , handing you a blanket. “you said it’s cold.” he said. “i said you’re cold.” you mumbled to yourself. “yeah , i am.” he said, moving closer to you , putting the blanket over both of you. “but now im not.” he smiled , just as the lights went out.

you could feel the warmth of his body against yours as you watched the movie , you could barely keep your eyes on the tv instead your attention was on wonbin. you felt a pillow to the back of the bed which made both of you turn around; isa and seunghan making their escape. “where the hell did chloe go?” you said. “oh they left like 30 minutes ago; you two were too busy watching the movie.” seunghan said. “more like watch each other.” isa said. “good night.” you waved them off , standing up. “where are you going?” wonbin spoke up. “im going to my room.” you said. “no stay.” he said , grabbing your wrist. “the movie isn’t over.”

you sat back down on the floor next to him; looking forward at the tv ; but you could tell he wasn’t looking at the movie — he was looking at you. “i know you can feel me staring at you.” he whispered. “i-i can.” you said. “why-why though?” you finally turned to him. “why are you looking at me?”

“because i think you’re pretty.” he confessed; your heart skipped a beat. “thank you; you’re not to bad yourself.” you tried to sound confident , that was until he leaned in , his face close to yours; his eyes traveling down to your lips. “because i think you want to kiss me right now.” he said , you gulped nervously. “i want to kiss you.” he said. “so bad.” he whispered , his lips practically ghosting over yours. “so fucking mnph.” you closed the short gap between you two; you didn’t know what came over you; maybe it was the alcohol or the game , but you couldn’t hold back anymore. “shit.” he pulled away with a chuckle. “that was a real desperate kiss.” he teased. “almost like you’ve been waiting for it.”

“get up.” he said , moving to the couch. “come here.” he beckoned you over. “take these off.” he said. “you take them off.” you gathered all the confidence you could to say that; he smirked , sitting up from his manspreading position. “okay.” he pulled you closer towards his face , planting a kiss on your waist. he slowly undid the tie on your pants; he stared up at you as he pulled your pants down your legs. “such cute pants , but you’re wearing these slutty panties underneath.” he said , you bit your to contain a moan as he teasingly pulled back the elastic of your panties , letting it snap against your skin. “such pretty noises.” he pulled your panties down. “and an even prettier pussy.”

he pulled you down; you straddled his waist. “you showed me your favorite position right?.” his thumb on your clit , rubbing figure eights. “wo-wonbin.” you moaned , but he shh’d you. “we gotta be quiet,” he said. “can you be quiet?” you nodded. “good , now let me show you mine.” he held your waist , and he stood up lightly to pull his pants down just enough to free his cock. “fuck it’s so hard.” he groaned , his tip was red. “been feeling this way since i felt your little pussy throbbing for me earlier,” he said. “is that what you wanted?” he cock pressing against your hole. “for me to feel how desprare your pretty cunt was for her to be filled up.”

he guided you down on his cock; your cunt gripping him like a vice. “oh fuck.” he leaned back against the couch , head thrown back. “that’s it -fuck- work my cock.” you began to move your hips , grinding your hips back and forth. “won-wonbin fuck.” you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself. you weren’t planning on going this far with him but here you were , both of you struggling to keep quiet as his cock dragged along your walls. “fuck baby , we gotta speed this up.” he groaned , his hair stuck to his forehead. “shit , let me take over.”

he grabbed your waist , bouncing you on his cock. “oh my god.” you gasped , your head falling in between his neck where you left the hickey. “mhm , fuck leave some more.” he moaned as you suck on his neck. “fuck , your little cunt feels so good.” the slapping noises drowning out the movie. “keep doing that.” you moaned against his skin , you felt so good bouncing on his dick. “fuck , wanna feel you cum around me.” he said. “you gonna cum for me?” he brought his fingers where you two were connected , rubbing circles. “m’gonna cum.”

“cum for me.” he pressed his lips against yours to swallow up your moans as you came around him. “oh fuck.” he pulled away. “fuck im gonna cum.” he said in a hushed tone. “sh-shit.” he lifted you off of him , his load shooting from his thick cock , covering your thighs; your body fell against his chest as you came down from your highs. “hey.” he whispered. “we gotta clean up.” he said. “let’s go to my room.” you said , you wanted more. “you want more?” he smirked , you nodded.

“well then you’re gonna explain to them in the morning , cause i don’t care how much noise you make , i wanna hear how good im fucking you.”

“how did you have a better night than we did?” isa said the next morning. “you two were at for 2 fucking hours , our couch yn on the couch we sit there.” chloe shrieked. “you two couldn’t make it to the room , you were on the floor when we left.” isa said. “it just happened , don’t blame me.” you threw your hands up in defense your phone buzzing , wonbins name popping up you smiled. “look at you , who’s fault is it then if not yours?” you shrugged , picking up your phone to answer.

“soju and drunk lovers game.”