#it's one thing to make a mess in your own room - your personal space where only you live and no one else usually goes

[rosenclaws]

Could I pleasssse request a smut/fluff fic with Logan where he secretly likes the reader and doesn't like the readers bf? The reader is in their early to mid twenties and has been best friends with Logan for years and he snaps one night when her bf is being an asshole 👀 thank you so much 😭

warnings: Angst to fluff, asshole boyfriend, he's mutant hating low key, threats, fighting

a/n: Hehehe i fucking LOVE a good jealousy fic, also I based the asshole ex on multiple asshole exes of my own lol.

Things were well and truly complicated. You always knew what being a mutant meant for your relationship life. Having to dip your toes into the water to see if they the kind of person who wanted your kind dead or if they were more open to the idea of mutants.

Even then you ran into all kinds of assholes. If you could even get past the first date then you'd have to drop the bomb that you work at a mutant school with mutant children. Safe to say your dating life was pretty empty.

"You here again sweetheart?" You roll your eyes when you hear Logan's voice. It's Friday night and you're sitting in the living room of the mansion with a root beer.

“Yeah, so are you.” You bite back. He just chuckles and takes a seat next to you. Spreading his legs until his knee knocks into yours.

“Weren’t you supposed to go out with that kid, what was his name Jacob or…”

“Jason. Yeah he canceled when he saw the pick up address.” You remember the absolute terrified voice he spoke to you in, afraid you were going to melt his bones through the phone or something.

“You really know how to pick em.” You shove Logans shoulder as he laughs.

“Fuck off, I don’t see you getting any action lately either.”

“That’s because I’m not interested in dating some stranger.” He grumbles.

Truth is Logan hasn't been interested in anyone except for you for a while now. Its been years and as pathetic as it sounds Logan was too afraid to say anything. But there's no reason to mess up a good thing right? Plus it's not like you've been showing any interest in him.

“Look, any guy would be lucky to have you sweetheart, you just need to find the right one."

"Feels like I've been searching forever. Feels like I should make a marriage pact or something." You say with a groan.

"A marriage pact?" "Logan questions.

"Yeah you know, if we haven't found someone by the time we're forty we just, get married."

"We?" Your eyes widen and you start to flounder. The last thing you want is for Logan to think you're a creep or something. It's not like you fantasize about Logan or anything. Totally not.

"Not you, I mean if you wanted to then sure but I was just talking hypothetically you know. I mean god could you imagine you and I?" The words tumble out of your mouth with no filter. You just can't stop yourself. Logan cocks and eyebrow and you pray for something, anything to happen to help you shut up.

"Yeah...hard to picture you and I" Logan's face hardens as he talks.

Like he thought before, you don't want him. You could just burst into flames right here and now. The tension is palpable. Logan has been your friend for a long time but he never fails to make you a little nervous. He shouldn't have this hold over you but god he's just so big and intimidating.

"You know what? We should go out." You say abruptly.

"What? Hey give that back!" You grab the beer out of his hand and he looks at you confused.

"It'll be fun please, I'll buy the first round." You offer and he thinks for a second.

"Fine."

You don't really know what drove you to want to come here. It was loud and crowded and you and Logan had gotten separated after the first drink. Maybe you just wanted to avoid the odd feelings you get whenever you're alone with him. Plus that last conversation was awkward as hell.

You sigh as you swirl your drink around. You spot Logan across the room. He's leaning against the wall while a very pretty red head is all in his space. Your heart clenches as you notice the cocky smile on his face and how he's not pushing her away. Guess someone is getting lucky tonight and it isn't you.

"Hey, couldn't help but notice a beautiful girl all by herself." You look to your side to see a guy slide into the seat next to you. He seems nice enough. He's cute and all.

"Oh I'm here with a friend." You say looking back at Logan.

"Yeah, he seems busy to me. The name's Carter. Let me buy you a drink, no strings attached I swear." He offers. You take one last look at Logan, that woman's hand snaking up his arm. Fuck it.

"Alright deal."

Things since that night have been, a little off. You went home with Carter after Logan had disappeared. Carter was nice enough, at least he was at first. He treated you nice, bought you flowers. He didn't care you were a mutant or that you worked at a mutant school. He was the perfect gentleman. For the first couple months.

It happened so slowly you didn't even notice at first. You spent less time at the mansion, instead now spending it with him. The kids started to miss you and so did your friends but you were happy and they were happy you were happy.

You rarely saw Logan anymore. Ever since you came home from the bar he had been avoiding you, or something. Carter would come by the mansion but his nice guy persona seemed to fade the more he spent with everyone. It didn't help that one of your students accidently lit him on fire once. That's when the fights started.

He didn't trust the kids there, said they were dangerous. He would tell you that he liked mutants but h was worried for your safety. And he really didn't like Logan. The first time the two of them met it ended in a fight on the car ride back to his place. Logan was a strong personality and the two men clashed.

Soon every time your job got brought up it ended in a fight. He'd talk bad about your students, about your friends, about Logan. Carter wanted to keep you away from there because he loved you but they were your family.

He loved you, you had to believe it was all because he loved you. I mean you had spent so long looking for a man who didn't care about your job or your mutant abilities and Carter was that guy. At least you thought he was. You won't find anyone better. Carter liked to say that. It's hard to come by someone who's okay with what you are. So you just had to believe he did it all because he loved you.

"Do we really have to go to this stupid thing? Can't we just stay in..." Carters hand snakes up your leg but you bat his hand away making him huff.

A pissed off look on his face as you drive to the mansion. It was a simple staff party but it had been too long since you got to relax with all your friends. Carter had insisted on coming along but right now you wish he had just stayed home, especially if he was going to complain the whole time.

"This is really important to me. We don't have to stay long I promise." You say in a cheerful tone but Carter just rolls his eyes.

"Whatever." It was exhausting. To Carter anything he wanted to do was fine but as soon as there was something you wanted to do it was a chore.

"Don't understand why you're so obsessed with being around these...people." He mumbles under his breath. Not this again. You plaster on a fake smile as you pretend you didn't hear him. He loves you for who you are right?

The party was in full swing by the time you get in. You greet your friends, trying to hide your feelings as Carter says something about getting a drink.

"You finally made it." You turn to see Logan standing behind you.

"Logan! Didn't expect to see you here." You tease. Parties were never Logan's thing.

"I heard you might show up, can't miss that now can I?" He opens his arms and you don't hesitate to hug him. You missed this. Your nights used to be filled with movie nights and late night snacking with Logan. It's been so long since you got to do any of that.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Logan clocks the fake smile immediately. He's noticed the ways you've changed. You're deflated, tired. It's all that assholes doing and he knows it.

"Yeah every things fine," Logans hands rest on your arms, he's about to press you a little further but Carter comes back.

"Hey man get your hands off my girlfriend." Carter almost seems to puff out his chest as if he was trying to appear bigger than Logan. Logan rolls his eyes.

"Calm down bub, just saying hi to my friend."

"Well she's my girlfriend."

"Yeah she's also a person not a fucking object." Logan growls and you step to get in between the two of them. The last thing you wanted was a fight right now.

"It was great seeing you again Logan." You smile as Carter wraps his hand around your wrist.

Logan reluctantly lets go of you as you're taken away by your boyfriend. He feels this anger burning inside of him. Every time he sees that bastard touch you he wants to rip off his damn arms. Every time he sees your smile fall or hears your fake laugh.

"Jealous much?" Scott comments, a smirk on his face as Logan turns to glare.

"I ain't jealous." Logan snaps as he stalks away.

Yes he is, he's very jealous. He's jealous that asshole is your boyfriend and not him. He's jealous that he's not the one who gets to hold you at night and call you his girl. But he was too late. So he's got no one to blame but himself.

Carter hadn't left your side since your moment with Logan. Normally you'd be happy about this but he was doing nothing but complain every chance he got.

"Can we just fucking go home already. You saw your little friends."

"It's barely been an hour Carter. All I asked for was this one thing! These people are my family would it kill you to try and act interested." You snap, finally fed up with his attitude. He scoffs and crosses his arm.

"I am trying. It's not my fault your family are freaks! Especially that fucking monster." He says with an extra glare towards Logan. Heads start to turn as he raises his voice.

"They're not freaks and don't call Logan that! He is not a monster!" You hiss. You've had it up to here with Carter. Everything you thought about him was crumbling down. If this is what love was then you'd rather be single.

"Of course you come to his defense. What are you fucking him on the side?" He spits.

Logan looks ready to pounce but he's being held back. If he could he'd maim this guy until he's nothing but blood and bones. He doesn't care what insult this guy spews his way but the second he disrespects you, all bets are off.

"He's my friend that's why I'm defending him. I will not let you talk about anyone of these people like that! You are nothing but a hateful asshole. You can go home and don't wait up because you're done."

You're seething with anger but there's a sense of relief that washes over you. You can feel every ones eyes on you but you don't care. You turn around to walk away but Carter grabs onto your wrist.

"Don't fucking walk away from me!" You wince at how hard he grabs you and that's when Logan snaps. Like an animal he's on Carter in an instant. Claws out and a murderous look on his face.

"Get your fucking hand off her before I slice it off." Whatever arrogance Carter had was gone in an instant. He lets go of your wrist and grabs at Logan's arm but Logan is unmoving.

"Listen here bub, you're going to get your sorry ass out of here and never come back." Logan leans in, just close enough that Carter is the only one who can hear his next words.

"If you even think of contacting her again I'll find you and I'll rip you limb from limb." Carter scrambles out of Logans grip and falls to the ground.

"You're all fucking insane." He yells as he runs out the door.

There's a weight that falls off your shoulders the second he's out of your sight. You let out a sigh as you turn to face everyone. Some of them were looking at you with pity and others were happy he was finally gone.

"I am, so sorry for ruining the party."

"You didn't ruin the party sugar, we're glad he's gone. Now we can really party." Rouge says with a smile, you're grateful for her as this breaks the awkward tension.

Things seem to go back to normal but you slip outside, not really feeling a party mood anymore. You hear the door open and foot steps behind you. A root beer is placed in front of you and you gladly take it. Wordlessly Logan takes the spot next to you. Man you can't remember the last time you got to sit down with Logan.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry." You say. He shrugs and throws an arm around you, pulling you closer.

"Nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, asshole had it coming." He takes a sip of his beer and you sigh, leaning a little closer to him.

"How could I be so stupid, things went south way before tonight. I just...didn't want to see it."

"Hey, you're not stupid. You were in love." Love makes you do a lot of things. Turn a blind eye or in Logan's case. Pretend like the feelings aren't even there.

"No I wasn't. Not really. I think...I was so afraid of never finding someone that I latched onto the first guy to give me an ounce of attention." You groan. What's so wrong with wanting to be loved huh? Nothing. But you deserve a guy who isn't a complete asshole.

"There will be other guys, anyone would be lucky. to have you"

"Yeah? Like who?" You say with a snort.

"Like me." Logan says simply. Your eyes widen as you taken in what he just said.

"What?" You ask in disbelief.

Logan shifts where he sits. Fuck this isn't how he imagined telling you, in fact he thought he never would. But Carter made him so angry and he'd be dammed if he let another dick come and take you away again.

"Like me, I want to be the lucky bastard."

"I...Logan how long have you felt this way." You ask, a hand coming to rest on his chest.

"It doesn't matter,"

"Yes it does, please. I need to know how much of an idiot I've been." You beg and Logan frowns, he doesn't like it when you call yourself an idiot.

"Years sweetheart, I've been in love with you for years." He confesses.

All this time. He's been there. As your friend, as something more. Too wrapped up in his own shit to say something at first and then by the time he worked out some of it, it was too late. He hates to admit it but that asshole did one thing right, it pushed him to stop hiding how he really feels about you.

"Logan..." You whisper as your lean in close to him.

His hand snakes around your waist and pulls you closer. Your lips ghost each other for just a moment, before he leans closer and kisses you. Your lips move together slowly. Logan groans against your lips as he pulls you even closer, if anyone were to look outside they'd see you practically crawling onto his lap.

His other hand cups your cheek, keeping you right there for him to kiss over and over. A part of you is kicking yourself for not saying anything to Logan sooner. So much pain and annoyance could have been avoided had one of you just confessed, but the other part of you is too happy to care. Too happy knowing that he felt the same way and that he was finally yours.

"I wish we had done this sooner."

"Me too sweetheart, but you have me now." He says as he kisses you again. A thought lingers in your mind and you pull away from Logan much to his dismay.

"Fuck, I need to get my shit from Carters place." You say with a groan.

"Don't say his name ever again," Logan grumbles and you laugh.

"I'll take care of everything so you never even have to think of that asshole." Logan buries his face in your neck, kissing every bit of skin he can reach.

"Now, lets ditch this party and make up for some lost time." Logan purrs.

God there's so much time to catch up on, you mourn what could have been but Logan taps your cheek. Snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

"You alright sweetheart?" You nod, shaking your head free of those thoughts. That's all in the past now, it took a while but you found your way to Logan and that's all that matters.

"I've never been better. Now, take me home."

[splataii]

toji x male reader

cw: dom male character, sub male reader,

wc 1.5k

freeloader toji who likes to pop in at your place n take a load off whenever he’s in the mood.

no text, no call, no nothing. just him showing up to sleep on your bed, watching his shitty tv shows on your couch after draining your fridge for everything it's worth.

you don't get no chance to say no cause he's way too busy telling you just what an absolute angel you are as he slips through your door. you won't even know he's there, promise. but it’s hard for him to keep such a promise when he’s such a terrible roommate.

he walks around half naked like he owns the place, sweatpants falling so low around his waist that his dick threatens to fall out with every step he takes..

when he feels like being more annoying than usual, he hangs around you, leaning against doorways and faking a yawn or two to stretch so you can catch the outline of his dick, and the way his body flexes.

it makes it hard to look him in the eyes when you're telling him to pull his own weight for the millionth time that week, and he knows it.

“you got a staring problem or what?” he teases, following the way your eyes trace down to the dick print in his loose grey track pants. guys like you are just way too fuckin easy. too flustered to finish, you let him off with a simple warning before leaving him be. but what he really wants is to force ya to quit talking his ear off by getting you on your knees and shoving his cock down your throat. maybe then he could finally put that mouth a yours to good use.

toji also gets so heated about the smallest things, moving you out the way so he can be the one to answer the door to all your one night stands and potential future boyfriends. taking way too much pleasure in how they shrink in on themselves when he sizes them up from the doorway, being terribly sweeter than normal to you with all his pet names and touchiness. it seems like his hand stays glued to your waist no matter how much you pry him off a you.

everytime another guy runs with his tail between his legs, you're pointing the finger at toji, but that man couldn't care less. it’s not his fault they're too pussy. he knows exactly the type a man a doll like you needs and he can give that to you better than any of those little boys ever could.

what's more is he has no sense of personal space. it’s always, “i was just looking for something,”

when he hovers so close you can feel his smile on your neck while you all bent over in the fridge, caged between his arms as his bulge rubs against the small of your back.

or “an accident” when he’s spreading out on your already too small couch and practically forcing you onto his thigh, subtly grinding you against it everytime he moves as his hand slips around your waist and under your shirt. he’s just tryna consolidate space, honest. it ain't his fault he's as big as he is. and it's definitely not his fault you’ve got such a dirty little mind.

and he's such a mess.. clothes, dishes, everything. you find them scattered just about all over the place. the worst offense, however, was a discarded package laying on your living room table. a fleshlight, you realized seconds too late, toji making his grand entrance the moment you're shutting the box closed.

you can tell by the shit eating grin on his face that playing it cool won't cut it, but you try anyway, pretending to get back to tidying up the table as he inches up close behind you.

“i don’t mind sharing,” he breathes, hand hovering on your waist a second too long as he reaches around you for his box, “if you let me watch,”

you stay still, waiting for him to laugh it off and turn back around, but he stays leaning over you.

“youre such a…”

“i’m such a what?” he tilts his head, hand subtly sliding down to the waistband of your pants, massaging where it meets your warm skin. he's rubbing in circles, fingers gently raking up and down your side till they're slipping under your pants.

your eyes trace the veins on his hand as you feel him squeeze at your bare thigh, your underwear hitching farther up as his thumb presses close against your clothed dick. your mind spins every time you feel him inching closer to your soft cock, taking in the thought of him pulling you back into his lap and sliding your pants to your knees so he could take care of you like you deserved. mind falling away, you let yourself lean back into his chest, your hand firmly placed on his arm to ground yourself.

“..or i can always give you the real deal,” he hums your breathe hitching as he gropes at your growing bulge, his words hot on the skin of your neck as you feel his hardening dick grinding against the curve of your ass, “if, that's what his highness prefers,”

you can feel the smirk on his lips as he presses a kiss against the side of your neck, and you blink away whatever trance he had you in.

“dickhead,” you mutter, slipping out of his arms and away from him, pretending not to notice his eyes trained on you as you break away. not once does that stupid smile leave his face as he watches you leave him and his half hard cock alone in the living room.

and that's he worst part of it all.. the worst part a him.. how smug he fucking gets. no matter how much you tell him off, no matter how much he teases you, he knows you can’t never stay mad at him for long. just a few touches in all the right places, a couple spoken promises, and you're like putty in his arms.

it don't matter how much tension you got pent up from his antics; at the end of the day, you're his. and he's always gonna be there to relieve that stress for you the best way he knows how; by bending you over whatever surface is nearest and railing you till you can't think of anything but the shape of his dick stuffed down your ass.

<3

“i was so lonely last night, yknow that?” tojis cock drills into you as you do your best to keep upright against the couch, “left me hard in the living room. had to take care of it all by myself,”

but you been knew that. he made no effort to hide it seeing how loud he was yesterday. you could hear him groaning your name and all the ways he wanted to have you from the comforts of your own bedroom, body hot as you kept your thighs pressed together, waiting for him to finish.

the moment you were back from your shift he was on you, pressing open mouth kisses as he made quick work of stripping you down. he had been waiting for what felt like ages to have all of you underneath him like this, so sweet and pliant in his arms, leaning into his heavy hands. coming undone at his every touch.

“what, nothing to say?” he grunts, grip on your waist tightening as you clench around him, sucking him back in with every thrust, his hands pulling your hips to fuck back into his, “or are you gonna let this ass do all the talking?”

you shake your head, helplessly grinding against the back of the couch as he splits you open on his dick.

“‘s too much,” you cry in between broken moans, burying your face in the nearest pillow in an attempt to hide how good he feels inside you. but he comes to a slow harsh grind of his cock, hands running all up your sides until they're resting on your shoulder.

he pulls you out of your pillow, forcing you to hear the lewd sound of his cock pulling out and leaving you empty. toji grunts, your tight hole not wanting to let go before its clenching around nothing, his pre dripping down the curve of your ass and off your thighs.

you do your best to stay steady on shaky arms, desperate whines muffled by your own hands as you feel him lining up again.

“you can take it sweetheart,” he rasps before ramming back into you, your ass spasming at the harsh thrust of his cock as he stuffs you full. your hand falls away from your lips, unable to hide the moans he rips from you as he pulls out and forces his cock into your ass again and again, making sure that the only thing your body will be able to remember is the shape of him inside you.

“that's it, doll,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss at the tears threatening to fall from your eyes as his strong arms keep you upright, “now let me hear you,”

[jazzywrldastro]

✮Astro Observations - 1✮

⇱ Mars in 11th- can have a few friends and it

means that there's only a few people that can be with you be with you. You have to look for friends sometimes you can attract toxic people. get along with men.

⇱ Libra risings- make decisions based on other peoples opinions and then regret them. Sometimes they want to please other people and make those decisions and then they quickly regret it after a while.

⇱ Mercury in the 12th - attract a lot of gossipers.

People can say stuff behind their backs. People can make up things about them and it's very quiet sometimes sometimes they don't even know about it. They need to be careful what they say to whom because people can be very jealous and envious and try to pull them down. (honestly I feel bad for these people.)

⇱ Venus in 11th - people find these people

beautiful even though they don't see it subconsciously (I actually have an 11th cancer Venus and people see me is very nurturing and very beautiful and i'm like " girl bye " but i actually really am)

⇱ fire signs - impatient as hell. they won't wait for you. if you don't give them too much or you don't give them all they'll leave you. If they have a Mars and fire sign, they're quick to resent very quickly if you don't fulfill their dreams they hate you when you cancel something and sometimes have to make one decision impulsively quick. I can kinda relate lmao 😂

⇱ Aquarius- they are often loners they spend time by themselves because they think it's easy. They like having their own freedom and hate when people try to take it from them.

♡ Venus or Mars in Leo- want the energy of

being in the spotlight and being seen for who they are, but in a nice way, not a negative way

✩ Your moon sign- is your safe place how you

emotionally comfort yourself. Mine is in Gemini so communication and talking basically comforts me talking when I'm upset even helps me to feel safe with air moon needs mental stimulation. Someone with a fire moon needs space. Someone with a water moon needs emotional support.

Venus is feminine energy and Mars is masculine energy (when you look at the sign of female, which is shaped f it represents the female, femininity, beauty, and love and when you I Mars it represents the beauty of a man, masculinity and power.

⇱ Gemini placements can be journalist. (I have Gemini placement and I love learning about new things in a blog.)

⇱ Taurus Venus- have good manners and (I could picture these placements as kids and listening well behaved to their parents)

⇱ Leo suns- like revealing clothes, booty shorts, camis ,bralettes and crops

⇱ Virgo suns- have tiny messes but not a lot of mess they'll be not okay with their room looking like a tornado

⇱ Libra suns/ placements like piercings ( don't matter where) ex -( I have a Libra moon friend that loves piercings and has a septum and body and lip piercings

⇱ Gemini suns-love hands they like the feeling of holding hands.

⇱ Scorpio suns - basically like Virgo ( they observe) but actually arent that mysterious ( they really arent the mysterious type )

⇱ Capricorn suns- kind of shy, dont show their personality fully until they are comfortable

⇱ Aquarius suns- will ask you anything out of the blue if it's something they learned.

ꨄ Pisces suns/ placements- will go above and beyond (the can be extreme) when pushed to that point ( oof I’m scared 😭)

[writingroom21]

heyy, Can i request where camerons are going on a family trip to the mountains and the car is fully loaded but there is space for a one person at the back of truck besides boxes and tents, as everyone gets into car theres no space for everyone so Rose,readers mom makes her sit on stepbrothers rafe lap the whole ride,but the road gets bumpy so rafe gets hard and fucks reader while whole family is in the front talking and driving(sorry if i messed up with grammar English is not my first language)

A/N: I love this idea so much

“No, absolutely not.” You shake your head as you back away. “Sweetie, can you please just do this?” Your mom pleads with you as you stand outside of the little van. “I am not getting in that and I’m definitely not sitting on his lap.” You yell as you point to the one person you do not want to be stuck with. Rafe, your stepbrother, smiles at your outburst. 

This has to be your own personal hell. You knew Ward wanted to get back at you for ruining the cake. Your mom and Ward have been married since you were a kid but they wanted to renew their vows. During the after party you and Rafe may have been arguing when the cake happened to have fallen. Ward was pissed and you could tell your mom was sad but they went on like nothing happened. Now here Ward is forcing you into a tiny van packed full of luggage with no room. But there’s a kicker.

Your seat is in Rafe’s lap.

As if making you all go on a family trip to celebrate wasn’t bad enough you have to sit in his lap. “C’mon we’re already late. Just get in the car and we can figure something out later.” Ward orders as he gets into the car. Everyone follows, leaving you outside alone. Huffing you climb in passing Sarah and Wheezie to get into the back. They send you sympathetic looks as you make it to the back of the van.

Rafe sends you a smirk as you settle into his lap. He puts the seat belt over the both of you as his arms cage you in. “Hey there honey.” His face is practically beaming at you as you make you way closer. Grumbling you sit in his lap, shuffling a few things around to get more room. But to no avail nothing moved and you were crammed into a tight space. He had to wrap his arms around you just to sit properly. 

As Ward drove the van you tried not to think about the fact all you could think about was Rafe’s smell. His hands would often scrunch, letting his fingertips graze over your exposed skin. Your elbow meets his side making him hiss. “What the fuck.” Rafe pulls your hair hard causing your head to fall back. “The two of you stop right now. I won’t hesitate to leave the two of you on the side of the road.” Ward yells out as he swerves to the side of the road. The two of you sat still and after a minute he went back to driving.

“I swear your dad is doing this to torture me.” Rafe lets out a little chuckle. His nose slowly grazes the side of your neck. “No honey. He’s upset at me and this is my torture.” There’s a pothole that makes the van shake. Due to the motion you jump slightly in his lap causing a low moan to fall from his lips. Snapping your head back you see that he has rested against the back of the seat. His eyes are closed, lips open just a bit. When cerulean blue eyes met yours, you snapped your head back to the front of the car.

Two hours into the drive everyone besides you, Rafe and Ward is asleep. The radio is playing some country music that you don’t know. You are looking out the window when a blanket is draped over your lap. Looking back at Rafe he just shrugs. “I’m getting cold.” His arms tighten around you as he shifts his hips. The decision of wearing loose shorts seems to be a bad choice. Every move of his hips makes his growing erection dig into your thighs and ass. “You really can’t have a boner right now.” You glare at Rafe, the movement making his situation worse.

Looking around the car he grabs your hips, pushing you back down onto him. He grinds you back and forth. There’s a brush of warm breath on your neck as he lowers his lips to the skin. “Can’t help it honey. Not when you’re on top of me.” You hold back a moan, choking it back down hoping he didn’t hear it. But his fingers are now gripping your inner thighs, prying them apart. Lightly he plays with your pussy, stroking it over your shorts before pulling them down. “What are you doing?” You whisper only to be met with him shushing you. 

You sit there as he teases you over your panties. The teasing only made you wet and you were soaking the fabric. Rafe lifted you, using one of his hands to pull his pants and boxers down. You want to get up and yell at him for what he is doing. Yet even though your brain is telling you to do so, you don’t. You stay there letting him use the tip of his cock to part your lips as he moves the panties to the side. There was a movement from the front of the van. Your hand pauses his movements waiting for a moment. 

When the only sound was the song from the speaker, Rafe moves you down onto his tip. Just as he pushes in he kisses the back of your neck. As you sink all the way down your head falls back onto his shoulder. He kisses the side of your head and right behind your ear. “Like having your step brother in you?” Fuck. Yes you do. You do like the feeling of him in you, feeling every ridge of him. As the car sways, pleasure erupts through you as his cock twitches. It felt so good. You bury your head in his neck trying to hide your face. “Just sit right there, honey.”

Another hour ticks by as Rafe holds you down to his cock. His balls grazes your clit with each rock of the van, his dick twitching every time. Cock warming your step brother was not how you envisioned this trip. You can’t stay still, squirming with each bump in the road. Rafe’s fingers dig into your skin, dragging you forward and back. Half way through his fingers found your clit with the other hand covering your mouth as he got you off. Now the two of you are soaked as you edge closer towards your second orgasm. 

“Alright everyone out.” Ward's voice snaps you out of your thoughts to see that you are at a pitstop. Everyone climbs out the car yawning as they head into the store. Your mom sticks her head back into the car looking towards the two of you. Thankfully since the van was packed so she really couldn’t see anything. “Are the two of you coming?” You lean forward blocking Rafe completely. “I’m tired so I think I’m going to keep sleeping.” You lie, giving her a sweet smile, one that she returns.

Once she was out of sight Rafe had you pushed forward using the armrest as your support. “God, look at how wet she is for me.” Rafe uses the grip on his base to slap his tip to your clit. He slides back in, rocking his hips to fuck into you. “I’m going to cum.” You moan out as Rafe’s fingers meet your clit as he delivers a good thrust. He lets out a long moan as your walls squeeze around him. The pulsing of your walls triggers his own orgasm. He pulls the both of you back into the seat.

Rafe moves the blankets back over the both of you. You wanted to go to the bathroom and clean up but he pulled you back down. His dick gets hard again as you squirm. The need to keep you plugged up with his cum settles deep within him. From the corner of his eye he can see everyone coming back. He acts normally, maneuvering you to look like you are sleeping. Leaning in closer he whispers in your ear.

  “We’re not done yet.”

Taglist : @rafedaddy01 @rrafeswhore @10ava01 Let me know if you want to be added

[tradgedyinwaves]

tw: cheating, car accident

Being John's assistant and girlfriend was hard sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time. Holidays were missed. Special occasions put on back burners. But when he was home, John made every effort to make it up to you. At least, he usually did.

You took care of their paperwork for the most part, submitting their reports once they were turned in with details of their mission. You made a point never to read them. You'd made that mistake once and gotten a first-hand account of how Johnny had shoved a grenade down someone's throat and then stood back to watch.

They were your boys, but that didn't mean they were stable. Simon liked killing people with his bare hands. Johnny liked to watch them explode. Gaz liked to wittle them down to nothing during interrogation(torture).

But your John? Well, he made sure his shots provided the most suffering. Shooting out the knees first, then the elbows, shoulders, spine and then finally the head. He had no issues getting the headshot, but liked to take his time.

With you, though? Oh with you they are protective and gentle. Harm almost never befell you with them around. The worst that had happened since the beginning of your relationship with John (and your indoctrination into their group) was that you'd stubbed your own toe on a chair you hadn't pushed in. It was your own fault really, love.

The team had returned the day before your birthday. What a birthday present, right? Wrong. As you greeted them on the tarmac with warm meals waiting in the car, each one gave you one armed hugs. John was last, pulling you to his side but not saying anything.

You could tell they were exhausted and that something hadn't gone quite right on their mission. They were always extra quiet and morose on those days, usually breaking out of it with a good meal and a decent night of rest.

That wouldn't be the case when you woke up the next morning next to...an empty bed? Usually, the day after he returned, John would sleep in, catching up on the hours of sleep he hadn't been able to get.

And went you puttered out into the rest of the apartment, you would find it empty. Boots, keys, and wallet were gone. Boonie hat missing from it's spot on the hook by the door. Maybe he was just out getting things.

He'd never missed a birthday if he was home and always made it up to you if he wasn't. So you waited. Took a shower, pampered yourself with the new body scrub you'd purchased just for this day.

When John wasn't back even a couple hours later, you headed up to the base as you felt the first prickles of anger rising on the back of your neck. You brought a lunch with you, an excuse for being there on your day off.

"Oh, just bringing Captain Price is lunch. Silly man forgot it again."

And so they let you in. No one questioned you, giving you warm smiles and well wishes. Some even wishing you a happy birthday for which you thanked them.

Stepping into John's office always made you cringe. It was an organized person's nightmare. Papers strewn everywhere, dirty coffee mugs left around sporadically, cigar ash filling the tray but also filtered around it like he was in a hurry. He wasn't like this at home, so you let him have his space at work the way he wanted it.

Except he wasn't in there. Keys and wallet, sure. So you knew he was on base. Leaving the warm meal on his desk, you meandered out to find the gym where you thought maybe they were sparring, getting rid of excess adrenaline from their mission.

No one there. At least, no one who knew where Captain Price was.

You spent the entire work day looking for him and when you never found him, you left the base. You end up stopping to grab a little cake for yourself and a bottle of wine, setting up at the coffee table.

And when you wake the next morning, you're still on the couch and the living room is a mess. And there's still no boots by the door.

So you go to work on your own (when John would normally drive you). You eat lunch on your own (when the entire team would usually join you in the mess hall). You drop off papers outside John's door (when you would normally go inside and leave them on his desk).

And you went home alone.

That was when you noticed some of his clothes were missing as was his duffel. You slept alone that night. And the night after. And the night after that.

By the time the next week rolled around and you'd slept alone for four nights, you were on edge and furiously upset. Not a word from your boyfriend of three years or his team.

And then the calls stopped going through. And the texts. So you called Laswell who was actually one of your best friends at this point, as was her wife.

"They're on another mission, hun. John didn't tell you?" "John hasn't spoken to me since they got back from the last one." "That bastard. I'm sorry. Unfortunately, they're already gone and I can't get you in contact with them until they're back." "I know. Just...tell him I love him?" "Absolutely." You went to work and did your job. When the taskforce was on mission, you were used for general paperwork needs in other departments since there wasn't much for you to do with them gone.

You went home alone and it felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.

It took another two months for them to return. But you weren't waiting for them on the tarmac. You were up to your eyeballs in new recruit uniform requests and even though you knew what time it was, you couldn't find it in yourself to care much.

Kate had been able to contact John and give him your message, but he never gave her one to return to you. And that had rubbed you the wrong way.

Forgetting your birthday was one thing. Disappearing and not telling you that they were going on another mission was another. But his silence was what hurt the most. Everything had been perfect when he'd left for the first mission.

It was hours later when you laid in bed that you heard the keys jingle against the lock. They wouldn't work, not the ones he had anyways. Knocking followed and you rolled over, throwing your pillow over your head to block out the banging and the sound of his voice filtering through the wood.

It stopped surprisingly quickly and you sighed, knowing you'd have to face him the next day at work.

You did. Sort of. You saw him when you came in, immediately turning to your office when he looked up. You stayed there all day, eating your lunch there and only leaving for bathroom breaks.

Unfortunately, you had some forms that needed to be turned in before you left but they required his signature. You didn't bother knocking as you went into his office, teeth grinding and prepared to be as short as possible. You weren't expecting the sight before you.

Your boyfriend leaned back in his office chair, eyes squeezed shut and grunting quietly with one of his own men between his thick, burly thighs. You could see the mohawk just above the desk, the sounds coming from a man you considered a brother ripping more holes into your psyche.

With a gasp, you dropped the papers and fled from the room, immediately grabbing your purse and fleeing from the building.

You could hear them calling your name, but you kept going. You'd have to find a new job or transfer, but that was a small price if it meant getting away from the only family you had.

But they weren't your family, were they? They were a family on their own. They obviously didn't need you. They leaned on each other in the field and at home. You took care of them, sure, but it wasn't enough apparently.

You got home and packed your bags, leaving behind anything that reminded you of the team or John. You left the keys in the lock with a post it stuck to the door.

"Go to hell, John."

You got back in the car and called Laswell, voice surprisingly even for what was going on.

"I need a transfer, Kate. Immediately." "Whoa, what happened? What's going on?" "He's cheating on me." Calm. Collected. Numb. "Excuse me?" "You heard me. With Soap. Probably the lot of them."

You didn't get to hear what she replied with as a semi plowed into the driver's side of your car.

I just want you all to know; this was supposed to be happy. It was going to end with a cute surprise party and apologies from everyone and nobody died. Oops, sorry.

Alternate Ending

Part Two

[neptxn3]

Astrology Notes III

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪₊‧°

Disclaimer, these are observations I have made through personal experience and thorough research, observations also vary depending on other natal placements involved

doesn’t resonate ≠ untrue 

♅ Pluto in the 10th house has a tendency to come across as very overbearing in the workplace. This is having a routinely structure you want to have done precisely every day, so this makes you ask your coworker if they want you to do the coffee run for a meeting, staying past closing time to make sure everything is in place, doing 10x as much work as your coworkers because you like things in a certain order.

it also causes coworkers to think of you as someone who’s willing to step over them in order to appear as this solid leader who is better than them ( and often times this does manifest in the native) but mostly it is subconscious.

It honestly reminds of the devil wears Prada where Andrea gets so good at guessing what Miranda’s expectations are that she goes over the top in order to please her and it gets to the point she manages to snag the trip to Paris that has always been given to Emily in the singular year she’s worked at the magazine. Andrea being Pluto person who unknowingly becomes the ‘better’ assistant.

♅ There’s a natural discomfort when one has the Moon placed in the first house, especially if placed in signs like Aquarius or Capricorn due to the fact that their emotions are put on display which is a forced vulnerability. 

I actually find fire placements (not typically Sagittarius) who actually find enjoyment in their faces being easily read? One because fire placements are less inclined to hide their feelings, and two because they can be a bit impatient to get their point across 

♅ Virgo placements are kinda funny in the sense that they’re not necessarily clean freaks, they won’t go out of their way to clean someone’s room because it’s dirty, but they are obviously very precise with their own mess, they don’t like being messy themselves you know? It’s not seen as a second nature to clean but rather an obligation for them because they need clean spaces in order to be productive with an active Mercury influence. 

I actually find it very common for Virgo placements to have an “organized mess” too. They know where they left their green paperclip in their messy rooms (it’s under the left desk leg). 

♅ Taurus placements , fixed signs in general, but especially Taurus placements grow up with a specific set of beliefs and morals that they follow through and through. It’s because of their fixed nature that they will refuse to change, in fact Taurus placements consider their perspective to be so correct, if afflicted, Taurus placements can be the hardest to evolve in your chart. 

♅ cancer risings tend to attract very dangerous men/women due to Scorpio being in their 5th house, this is actually why cancers fall under the sweet damsel in distress who dates the big bad boys in romantic tropes a lot lol but yes they actively seek people who have a dark reputation or damaged past as lovers

♅ People with Mars in the 12th house are often accused of being unmotivated and lazy by people in their life but it actually stems from the fact that mars is uncomfortable being in a house that’s connected to the unconscious mind while craving the open expression of anger and ambition mars naturally is. I actually find they overthink their actions. You can remind a person with mars in the 12th house to take out the trash before bed because the garbage collectors come tomorrow and they will spend the whole day cleaning the house, drain their energy and say “I’ll just wake up early and do it tomorrow” but they never do 😭 They confuse themselves!! 

it’s also interesting to note a person with a 12th house prominence that includes mars will be defensive about their said actions. “Take out the trash” “I was already planning on doing it but now I don’t want to”. I include 12th house prominence because a mars in the 12th also has stealthy actions and thoughts 🤫

♅ People with their 4th house ruler in the 7th house will have emotional withdrawals if their routine does not involve socializing with others. You’ll typically see this in people who choose to search for roommates during college, move in with close friends to “save on rent” or choose to never move out of their parents home ( I support this in this economy lol)

you’ll also see this in people who are serial daters, not to say that their relationships don’t impact them greatly, but they feel a requirement to express their feelings with others. 

Could make great therapists too actually

♅ Mercury square saturn people need precise instructions whenever they do something. Mercury can be very sporadic in square aspects because their communication is being misconstrued the same way a radios antennae need to be arranged in a certain way  in order to get signal. With Saturn representing structure, they prefer very detailed instructions on pretty much anything. You need them to get a wrench? It’s on the left? Top, middle, or bottom? And what color is it? Is it in the back or front of the cabinet? 

Also, Mercury square Saturn people, we’re you the kids who’s dad yelled at them for holding the flashlight the wrong way when fixing something? 

♅ I find it very funny when Aquarius placements are dubbed the people who change the world with their innovative ideas because you will connect that to them actively trying to improve society but it’s actually because they just want life to be easier to navigate for themselves. They’re the type to invent flying cars, not for the next Industrial Revolution that will forever change man once again, but because they want a cheaper way to save on overseas travel 😭. Don’t get the wrong idea, a lot of them realize their potential and eventually use their ideas for good, but it usually starts off as very personal and self serving. 

[vaspider]

Spider, can I ask you and your followers for some input in a situation? I want some unbiased opinions, especially from parents of adult kids (bonus if your adult kids are disabled). I've tried to be as unbiased as possible and include both sides. I am aware that you're under no obligation to actually answer, but I'm hoping that if you're not able to provide any input, then one of your followers might be able to.

TLDR at the end.

The context:

Basically, I am an adult in my late 20s. I haven't lived with my parents since they threw me out at 19 for being diagnosed with autism and they were told that I wasn't capable of living independently without years of occupational therapy. I was homeless for 13 months. Like literally two days later, they dropped me off at work, confiscated my house keys, and said to find somewhere else to sleep because I wasn't coming back home. (My parents insist that I wasn't actually homeless because I already had my current job and was able to afford to stay at a youth homeless shelter. I say "what the fuck do you think Homeless Shelter means??") After that, I was able to get a government grant for chronically homeless youth that allowed me to get a room in a student housing complex. It's not dorms, but it works like a dorm. I do have a private room.

My bedroom of my apartment is a mess. My bedroom has always been a mess. I have AuDHD and multiple disabilities, including extreme fatigue so that's not unexpected. During lockdown, it was especially bad. I had to move out of my last apartment in 2021 because one of my roommates was a bigot and my building wanted a new tenet so they could charge more rent, so between the two of them, they forced me out for being a "safety concern" due to the mess (the roommate did things like lie and say I didn't bathe, even though I was literally still wet from the shower). My parents ended up helping me pack up my stuff and move to a new place. I've been here for a few years and my roommates here have always been okay with the mess because it stays confined to my room.

(Also I wrote this at like 5AM and I'm half asleep but I wasn't going to be able to go back to bed until I ask someone unbiased. So please excuse any typos, and I hope everything makes sense and nothing came out as gibberish because sometimes by brain refuses to Word Good.)

The problem:

My mother decided when I moved in that my dad was going to be inspecting my bedroom in order to make sure it's clean. He's been putting her off but she's been on his ass about it for three years so he's finally caved and said that next time he's here to bring me something (I cannot drive due to disabilities), that he would be inspecting my room.

I do not want my room inspected. I've been very clear about that since day one. Yes, my room is a mess, but I'm also a grownass adult. My parents say that since they've given me some money for my rent over the past few years that they're entitled to inspect my room. I say that it's a violation of my autonomy. My room is my safe space. My mother is an obsessively clean person so growing up, my room wasn't really mine, and everything had to be to her standards whether I liked it or not (including things like what color I paint my furniture that I owned).

My parents do not care about my boundaries, and would say that since I've proven incapable in the past (re: because I'm disabled, not that they'd ever admit it), that they're trying to protect me by keeping me from being kicked out again.

I am skeptical about this and believe it's more about controlling me (see: throwing me out for having autism and just generally being extremely controlling my entire life). My parents have refused to stop giving me money for my rent every now and then (I have a job and pay at least the majority of my rent, but there are some months where business is slow and I don't get many hours, and no one wants to hire me because I act Autistic and use a cane) and I end up short. I have resolved to do everything I can to not need their help, including having my sister pick up my prescriptions, in order to avoid my parents coming over and inspecting my room.

Also, my building already does quarterly inspections and they've always been okay with my room, but I know my room won't be to my parents' standards. I don't have any local friends that I could ask for help cleaning up, but like, I'm a Spoonie. I clean my toilet and then have to go lay down because I'm getting dizzy. I am not making much progress myself.

The question:

Are my parents right? Have I shown that I cannot be trusted to keep my room clean, thus entitling them to come inspect it to make sure it's not a mess. They will definitely yell at me and have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if my room is a mess or I refuse to let them inspect it? Or am I right to put my foot down and enforce my boundaries?

Side note, my parents have a history of being abusive and controlling. That's something I had to prove to the government to get my grant. They would insist that it's not abuse. Some of it was quite bad but I'm not going to get into it here.

TLDR:

I'm an adult with disabilities who has my own apartment. My parents think they're entitled to come inspect my room to make sure it's clean. I say that it's my apartment and I say no. They have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if I refuse. Are my parents being unreasonable, or am I the one being unreasonable for refusing?

Your parents have no right to inspect your room. You are an adult. This is your apartment, not theirs. Your mother is wrong. Your parents are being invasive. I think they think they're being reasonable bc they care about your well being, but they aren't respecting your autonomy.

Sometimes, being a parent means you gotta let your kids not do things the way you would or even not do things the way that is best for them. It's hard, but it's necessary.

If you still lived with your parents and your lack of cleanliness was affecting their lives, it might be different ... but this is just your parents being fucking weird.

[bueckersstuff]

SICK & TWISTED

Part I Part II Part III Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

The sting of your slap still burned on Paige’s skin long after you walked away. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t even flinched. She just stood there, staring at the empty space where you had been moments ago, her ears ringing with the echo of your voice—furious, heartbroken, done.

She had done it. Executed her plan perfectly. You had fallen for her, just like she wanted. You had let her back into your life, allowed her to inch her way between you and Natalie, and in the end, you had betrayed the one person who truly loved you.

She won.

So why did it feel like she lost?

Paige swallowed hard, the weight of everything she had done crushing down on her all at once. She had planned this for so long, so meticulously. She had watched from afar as you moved on, built a perfect life without her. It ate at her. She told herself it was about revenge, about making you feel what she had felt all those years ago—the ruin, the isolation, the regret.

It started the moment she saw your name pop up on social media again, years after you disappeared without a trace. She hadn’t let herself think about you in a long time, burying any remnants of the past beneath layers of distractions—basketball, fleeting flings, numbing routines. But when she saw you, looking so content, so fucking happy, something inside her cracked.

You weren’t supposed to be okay.

You were supposed to carry the same scars she did.

That night at the bar, the kiss she stole from you—it had cost her everything. Azzi. Her teammates. Her peace. Paige had convinced herself that it wasn’t real, that it was just a stupid mistake fueled by alcohol and reckless impulse. That you were just another face in a crowd, an unfortunate casualty in her own downfall.

She could still see the betrayal in your eyes, the way your voice cracked when you begged Natalie to stay. You weren’t hers to ruin—you never were. And yet, she did it anyway. Because Paige never let herself lose. Not in basketball, not in life.

Her chest tightened, an unfamiliar ache spreading through her. Guilt? Regret? Something deeper? She didn’t know. All she knew was that for the first time in years, she had no idea what to do next.

She turned on her heel and walked away, her hands clenched into fists.

Because this time, it almost feels like she didn’t win.

Paige sat alone in her apartment, the weight of what she had done pressing down on her chest like an unbearable force. The room was dark except for the dim glow of the city lights filtering through the window. Her fingers hovered over her phone, but she couldn’t bring herself to type anything. What would she even say? That she was sorry? That she didn’t mean it? That it was a mistake?

None of it would matter.

Her mind was a mess, a relentless loop of everything that had happened—the slap, the screaming, the way your voice had broken when you begged Natalie to stay. It played over and over, each time cutting deeper. She had done a lot of fucked-up things in her life, but this… this was a different kind of destruction.

Her phone rang, breaking through the suffocating quiet.

Unknown number.

She thought about ignoring it, but something in her gut told her to pick up.

“This is Paige Bueckers speaking.”

There was silence at first, a pause heavy with something she couldn’t name. And then—

“We need to talk.”

Paige recognized the voice instantly.

Natalie.

For a second, she considered hanging up. She had expected you to come for her, to lash out at her again, to tell her how much you hated her. But not this. Not her.

“What do you want?” Paige said, voice stiff.

“Meet me.”

Paige sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I don’t care what you think,” Natalie shot back. “Meet me at the coffee shop on 5th. Thirty minutes.”

Then the line went dead.

Paige almost didn’t go. Almost.

But something gnawed at her, an unease curling in her stomach. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was the weight of your voice still clinging to her, reminding her that she had finally broken something she couldn’t fix.

So she went.

The coffee shop was quiet when Paige arrived, the usual morning rush long gone. She spotted Natalie immediately, sitting at a table in the corner, hands wrapped around a cup she probably hadn’t even taken a sip from.

Paige hesitated for half a second before making her way over.

Natalie looked up as she approached, her eyes tired, but sharp. “Sit.”

Paige slid into the chair across from her, folding her arms over her chest. “Alright. I’m here. Say whatever you came to say.”

Natalie exhaled, setting her cup down. “I know everything.”

Paige froze. “What?”

Natalie leaned forward slightly. “I know what you did to her. I know what she went through because of you.” Her voice didn’t waver, but there was an underlying anger beneath it, something restrained but ready to snap. “Do you?”

Paige looked away. “It wasn’t—”

“Don’t,” Natalie cut her off. “Don’t sit there and try to make excuses. I don’t care why you did it. I care about what it did to her.”

Paige’s throat felt tight.

Natalie continued, her voice steady. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for her to move on? How much it took for her to be okay again? You weren’t there. You didn’t see her when she couldn’t even step outside without feeling like the whole world was against her.”

Paige clenched her jaw. She had imagined you moving on so easily, living this perfect life without a second thought about her. But that wasn’t the truth, was it? The truth was that she had left you with scars she never even bothered to look at.

“She had trauma, Paige.” Natalie’s voice softened, but the weight of her words only grew heavier. “She saw a therapist for it. That’s where we met.”

Paige blinked.

She hadn’t known that. Hadn’t even considered the possibility. She had spent so long justifying her anger, her obsession with revenge, that she never stopped to think about what it actually did to you.

“She told me everything,” Natalie said. “And I still fell in love with her.”

Paige’s fingers curled into fists beneath the table. She didn’t know why those words stung so much. Maybe because Natalie was saying them with such conviction. Maybe because, deep down, Paige realized she had spent all this time trying to break something that had already been broken—something that had taken years to piece back together.

And now she had shattered it all over again.

“I just…” Paige swallowed, her voice suddenly quieter. “I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t.” Natalie exhaled, rubbing at her temple. “But here’s the thing, Paige. One stupid kiss isn’t enough to make me think any less of her. I know who she is. I know her heart.”

Paige stiffened.

This wasn’t what she expected. She had thought Natalie would hate you, would see you as a cheater, would walk away and leave you just like she had planned. But instead, Natalie was here, telling Paige that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Paige should have been frustrated. She should have been furious. But all she felt was empty.

Because for the first time, she realized she had been hoping Natalie would back off.

That she would leave.

But she was wrong.

Again.

Paige swallowed the lump in her throat. “I… I should say sorry.”

Natalie’s lips pressed into a thin line. “You don’t get to,” Nat shot back. “Not on your terms. She doesn’t owe you anything, least of all a chance to apologize. You don’t get to decide when or how she heals from what you did.”

Paige didn’t argue. What could she even say? Natalie was right.

Silence.

It was the one thing Paige had never feared before.

On the court, in the locker room, even during the worst nights of her life—she had always found comfort in the silence. It was a moment to breathe, to recalibrate, to steel herself for what came next.

But now?

Now, it was killing her.

You hadn’t spoken to her since that night. No calls. No texts. No bitter, angry words thrown in her face. Nothing. It was like she had ceased to exist in your world, and that should’ve been a relief.

It wasn’t.

It was a punishment worse than anything she could’ve imagined.

For the first time, Paige realized just how much she had relied on your hatred. Your anger had been her anchor, proof that you still felt something, that she hadn’t completely faded from your life. She had convinced herself that if you still had the energy to despise her, then maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t too far gone.

But now?

You had shut her out completely.

And it was ruining her.

She had tried to reach out—half-written texts, aborted phone calls, standing outside places she thought you might be, only to lose her nerve and walk away. Every time she thought about seeing you, about looking into your eyes and knowing that you didn’t care anymore, it made her sick.

But she had to try.

She had to fix this.

Even if she didn’t deserve to.

Paige hadn’t heard from you since. No texts, no accidental run-ins at your usual spots, not even a passing glimpse of you in places she knew you used to frequent. It was like you had vanished, and it was starting to unnerve her. At first, she had convinced herself that it was for the best—that you were better off without her, that this silence was what she deserved. But now, it was gnawing at her. The absence of you was suffocating, like a punishment she didn’t quite know how to endure.

She had checked social media, but there was nothing. No recent activity, no new posts. Even your closest friends hadn’t mentioned you in a while. It was radio silence, and it was killing her.

Then, suddenly, her phone rang. Natalie.

Paige barely had time to answer before Nat’s voice exploded through the line. “What the hell did you do?”

Paige blinked, caught off guard. “Nat, what—”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Bueckers! I swear to God, if—” Nat’s voice cracked, and for the first time, Paige registered the sheer panic in it. “She's in the hospital, Paige. The hospital.”

Paige’s entire body locked up. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering against her ribs. “What?”

“I went to her apartment because she wasn't answering me. I thought maybe she's just avoiding me, but something felt off. So I went.” Nat’s voice wavered, laced with frustration and raw emotion. “And I found her. Barely conscious, barely holding on. She relapsed, Paige. A bad relapse. She's not letting anyone in, she's shutting down completely.”

Paige felt like she had been punched in the gut. Her mind reeled. “I—I didn’t know. I—”

“Of course, you didn’t know!” Nat snapped. “Because you never think about anything past your own damn self! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You don’t get to just walk away and then wreck her life all over again when she have finally found peace!”

Paige was shaking, gripping her phone so tightly it hurt. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I—”

“Meaning doesn’t matter,” Nat seethed. “She fought so hard to rebuild herself. And now, because of you, she's back to square one. You undid everything.”

Paige pressed a hand to her forehead, guilt clawing at her from the inside out. “I wanted to say sorry,” she admitted weakly. “I just—didn’t know how.”

“Sorry?” Nat’s laugh was humorless, bitter. “Sorry won’t fix this. Sorry won’t undo the nights she spent breaking apart over you. Sorry won’t change the fact that she's finally happy before you ripped it all away again.”

Paige’s vision blurred. The weight of her actions, the destruction she had left in her wake, crushed down on her like a tidal wave. “Is she…” Her voice cracked. “Is she going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Nat admitted, voice breaking now too. “But you don’t get to be part of that answer.”

The call ended, and Paige was left staring at her phone, the silence swallowing her whole. She had ruined everything. Again. And this time, she didn’t know if there was anything left to fix.

A few days later, Paige found herself parked outside your house, gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. You had been discharged, but she hadn’t seen you. Not once. The thought made her stomach churn.

From her vantage point, she could see movement inside. And then, her chest tightened—your ex was there. Paige hated that. Hated how effortless it was for her to be there, to have a place in your life that Paige no longer did.

She wasn’t sure what hurt more—the way you were standing close, or the fact that Natalie had a key and Paige didn’t.

A fucking key.

Paige’s stomach twisted violently as she watched through the window, her fists clenching at her sides.

Natalie was touching your arm, looking at you with that familiar tenderness, and you—God, you were letting her.

Paige hated it.

Hated the way Natalie still cared, hated the way you let her in when you had shut Paige out so completely.

She swallowed hard, trying to suppress the storm brewing inside her. What had she done? Was this truly what she wanted? To punish you? To hurt you the way she thought you hurt her? Or had she only ever wanted to take you away for herself?

The thought festered inside her, twisting and turning until she could no longer sit still. Paige moved discreetly, watching for the right moment. And then, it came—Nat stepped out, heading toward her car. She was alone now.

This was her chance.

Heart pounding, Paige climbed out of the car and walked up to your door, exhaling sharply before knocking. Hard. Loud.

“Open the door,” she called out, her voice softer than before, but desperate. When there was no response, she knocked again, more insistently. “Please. Just… please.”

She let out a shaky breath, pressing her forehead against the door for a second. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you,” she said, voice raw with emotion. “But I never thought it would affect you this much. I never wanted to be the reason you…” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. “Just let me see you. Please.”

She was making a scene, but she didn’t care. Let the whole damn neighborhood see. If this was the only way to reach you, then so be it.

Seconds passed. Paige could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, feel the weight of everything she had done pressing down on her. She closed her eyes, willing herself to keep talking, to keep reaching for you.

“I don’t deserve forgiveness,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I know that. I just… I made a terrible mistake. Please...”

Still nothing. Paige’s fingers curled into fists, and she let out a shaky laugh, full of self-loathing. “God, I was so stupid. I thought I was hurting you, but all I did was destroy myself in the process.”

A noise from inside. The faintest shuffle of movement. Paige’s breath hitched. “Please,” she tried again, voice breaking. “If you never want to see me again after this, I’ll leave. I swear. Just… let me see you one last time.”

A long pause. And then, finally, the door creaked open. Paige barely breathed as she looked up, eyes meeting yours for the first time in what felt like forever.

It wasn’t supposed to rain that night.

The sky had been clear all day, no clouds, no sign of a storm rolling in. But as Paige stood outside your apartment, the first drops of rain splattered onto her skin.

Fitting.

She didn’t even know what she was going to say. She had spent the entire day rehearsing apologies in her head, but none of them felt like enough. What did you even say to someone after you had spent years making their life miserable?

She never got the chance to decide.

But then the door opened, and you stepped out.

The moment your eyes met hers, Paige’s breath caught in her throat.

You didn’t look angry. You didn’t look anything.

Just numb.

And somehow, that was worse than hate.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her throat was tight, her hands were shaking, and all she could do was stare at you like she had forgotten how to speak.

You shifted slightly, stepping off the porch, and Paige instinctively reached for you. “Wait—”

You sidestepped her effortlessly.

Like she was nothing.

“Don’t,” you said, voice flat, empty. “I have nothing to say to you.”

The rain had started to come down harder now, but Paige barely felt it. She was too busy scrambling for something—anything—to hold onto.

“Please,” she tried again. “Just—just listen to me.”

You didn’t stop walking. Not until you’re completely exposed, until you’re completely soaked with the cold hard rain.

Paige moved in front of you, her heart hammering in her chest. “I’m sorry.”

Nothing.

Her voice cracked. “I mean it. I mean it. I—I never wanted to take it this far.”

That made you pause. Just for a second.

And Paige, desperate, latched onto it.

“I know I messed up. I know I don’t deserve a second of your time, but I need you to hear me,” she pleaded, her voice bordering on frantic. “I—I was wrong. About everything. And I—I don’t know how to—”

You exhaled sharply, cutting her off. “Paige.”

Her name sounded so foreign in your voice.

Like something dead.

“I don’t care anymore.”

That shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. But it did. God, it did.

Paige shook her head, blinking through the rain. “No. No, you do. I know you do.” She reached for you again, and this time, you didn’t move away.

But you didn’t reach back.

You just stood there, staring at her with eyes that were hollow.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Your voice was softer now, almost pitying. “I spent years letting you ruin me. And I’m done.”

Paige felt her breath hitch, her stomach twisting painfully.

Done.

The word echoed in her head, over and over, like a death sentence.

And then—before she could stop herself—she did something she had never done before.

Paige Bueckers dropped to her knees.

The wet pavement bit through her jeans, but she didn’t care. Didn’t move. Just kneeled there in front of you, hands clenched at her sides, heart cracked wide open.

“I was wrong.” Her chest tightened, the truth spilling from her lips before she could stop it. “I didn’t want to punish you. I just—I wanted you. And I was too sick and twisted to realize that until I’d already ruined everything.”

The rain was freezing, soaking through her clothes, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care.

Not when she was losing you.

Not when she had already lost you.

Your eyes widened slightly, but you didn’t move to help her up. You didn’t care.

“I was a coward,” she whispered. “And I hurt you. And I don’t deserve to be standing here, asking you for anything. But I will. I will, because even if you never take me back, even if you never forgive me, I need you to know that I was yours all along. I was just too fucking stupid to see it.”

The rain poured harder, soaking the confession into the streets, into the air between you.

Paige swallowed hard, her hands gripping the wet pavement as she bowed her head.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to fucking make it right.” Her voice wavered, raw and wrecked. “But I want to. I need to.”

Silence.

And then, finally, your voice.

“You should go home, Paige.”

It was the final blow, the last thread snapping.

Paige didn’t move.

She just knelt there, trembling, as the rain poured down around her—washing away everything but the unbearable weight of regret.

The rain was relentless, pounding against Paige’s skin like tiny needles, soaking her through until she was shivering. But it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered except you.

You, standing there in front of her, looking at her like she was a stranger. Like she was nothing.

Paige had always been good at getting what she wanted. The game, the fame, the people—everything had always been within her reach. Even when she lost, even when she failed, there was always a way back. A way to fix it.

But this?

This was slipping through her fingers, and she didn’t know how to stop it.

She pressed her palms against the wet pavement, fingers digging into the concrete as she gasped for breath. “Please.”

You barely reacted.

Paige squeezed her eyes shut, the weight in her chest suffocating. “I—I'll do anything,” she choked out. “Just… don’t walk away from me.”

Your silence was louder than anything.

Paige looked up, blinking against the rain, her vision blurred—not just from the downpour, but from the sting behind her eyes. She was losing it. She knew she was. And she didn’t even care.

She reached for your wrist.

You pulled back before she could touch you.

The rejection burned.

Paige let out a shaky breath, her voice hoarse. “I miss you.”

You exhaled, long and slow, like you were trying to stay patient. But there was nothing left for her in your eyes.

Paige tried again, her voice desperate. “You don’t understand—I haven’t slept, I haven’t eaten, I can’t think without—” She sucked in a sharp breath, her chest caving in. “You’re in my head. You won’t leave my head. And I don’t—I don’t know how to live with that.”

You finally spoke, your tone even and quiet. “That’s not my problem.”

It felt like a punch to the gut.

Paige shook her head quickly, her hands trembling. “It is—it is your problem, because I—” She swallowed, her throat raw. “I love you.”

The words spilled out before she could stop them.

The weight of them crushed her the moment they were free.

She had never said it before. Not to you. Not to anyone.

And now, she had nothing left to lose.

The rain poured harder, the silence between you deafening.

You let out a quiet laugh—one that wasn’t amused at all. One that sounded like disbelief, like exhaustion.

Paige watched your face carefully, desperately, waiting for something. Anything.

You just shook your head. “You don’t love me.”

Paige flinched like you had hit her.

“Yes, I do.” Her voice cracked, raw and broken. “I do.”

You looked away, exhaling sharply. “No. You love the idea of me. You love what you can’t have. You love the way I let you get away with hurting me.” You stepped back, shaking your head. “But you don’t love me.”

Paige felt her stomach drop, the rain masking the hot tears that slid down her face.

This wasn’t working. This wasn’t fixing anything.

She couldn’t let it end like this.

Paige scrambled closer on her knees, gripping the hem of your sleeve, holding on like you were the last solid thing in her crumbling world. “Just—just tell me what to do,” she begged. “Tell me what I can say, what I can give, and I’ll do it.”

You closed your eyes briefly, as if you were tired of her.

Then, your voice came, quiet but firm.

“There’s nothing you can do.”

Paige’s entire body went cold.

No.

No, that couldn’t be true.

“I’ll change,” she whispered, frantic. “I’ll fix myself.”

Your eyes met hers again, and this time, there was nothing there but finality.

“You can’t.”

Paige felt like she was going to throw up.

You pulled your arm from her grip, and she didn’t have the strength to hold on.

She watched helplessly as you stepped back, shaking your head once more. “Go home, Paige.”

The rain kept falling.

Paige stayed on her knees.

The rain poured relentlessly, soaking Paige to the bone as she knelt on the pavement outside your house. Her knees scraped against the wet concrete, her hands trembling as she reached for you, but you stepped back, out of her grasp.

"Please," Paige's voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Just listen to me. Just—just give me a chance to fix this."

You stood there, drenched and unmoving, your face unreadable, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions raging inside her.

"A chance?" You laughed, but there was no humor in it. "A chance to what, Paige? To hurt me again? To ruin me all over?" Your words cut deeper than the cold. "I don’t care anymore. I’m done."

Paige shook her head violently, her breath hitching. "You’re not done. You can’t be. Not after everything—"

"Everything?" You scoffed. "Everything you destroyed?"

Paige felt the sting of her own tears mixing with the rain. Her chest heaved, desperation clawing at her ribs. She had always been good with words—charming, persuasive—but now, they failed her. Everything she said felt small, insignificant against the weight of what she had done.

"I—" she choked, swallowing back a sob. "I didn't mean for it to end like this. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "You did mean it, Paige. You planned it. You executed it. And now, what? You regret it?"

Paige dropped her head, her wet hair clinging to her face as the weight of your words crushed her. She had done this. She had dug her own grave, and now she was suffocating in it.

"I don't know how to fix this." Her voice was small now, broken. "Tell me what to do. Tell me how to make it right."

You stared at her, your expression unreadable before you sighed, shaking your head. "You can’t. And that’s the worst part. You can’t fix any of it."

Paige’s chest tightened, a sharp pain stabbing through her ribs. She let out a shuddering breath, her entire body trembling. "Please… I love you."

You flinched, as if the words physically hurt. Then, after a beat, you let out a hollow laugh. "You love me? Paige, you don’t even know what love is. If you did, you wouldn’t have done this."

She reached for you again, this time her fingers barely grazing your wrist before you pulled away completely.

Then, behind you, a car parked abruptly, followed by the door slamming shut.

“What the hell is going on?” Nat’s voice sliced through the rain, sharp and laced with disbelief.

You turned slightly, your body shifting as if suddenly aware of the entire situation—the rain, Paige kneeling in front of you, Natalie, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

Nat’s gaze flickered between you and Paige, her expression quickly morphing from confusion to pure, unfiltered rage. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Paige barely had time to react before Nat was marching forward.

“Get up,” Nat snapped, glaring down at Paige with disgust. “Now.”

Paige didn’t move.

Nat let out an incredulous scoff. “Are you serious right now? You show up, make a goddamn scene, and now you’re just gonna sit there like some kind of—" She threw her hands up, exasperated. “No. You know what? I don’t care. Get inside.” She turned to you, voice softer now, more urgent. “You’re shivering. Come on.”

But you didn’t move either. Not at first. Paige could see the conflict warring inside you, could see the way your fingers twitched like you wanted to reach for something—but what?

Her?

Paige squeezed her eyes shut. She was delusional. She can feel herself getting sicker every minute.

“Come on,” Nat pressed again, stepping closer, placing a firm hand on your back. “Please.”

That’s what did it.

With one last lingering look at Paige, you finally turned, stepping back inside without a word.

Paige’s heart dropped.

The door was still open. Nat hadn’t gone inside yet. She stood in the doorway, crossing her arms, her glare returning in full force.

“You need to go home, Paige,” Nat said, voice cold.

Paige shook her head, barely blinking against the rain. “Not until I talk to her.”

“Talk to her?” Nat scoffed. “What else is there to say? You did enough damage already. You don’t get to waltz back in and pretend you give a shit now.”

Paige clenched her jaw. “I never stopped caring.”

Nat let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, really? That’s rich, coming from the person who spent months making her life hell. Who made her relapse.”

Paige flinched at the word.

Nat took a step forward, voice lowering into something dangerous.

"Go home, Paige," she said, her voice void of warmth. "She doesn’t want you here."

And then, without another word, she stepped inside and slammed the door shut.

The sound echoed in the empty street, a finality that should have sent Paige walking.

But she didn’t.

She stayed.

The hours passed, the rain never stopping. Paige sat down on the porch steps, her body growing heavier by the second. She could feel exhaustion creeping in, the cold seeping into her bones, but none of it compared to the ache inside her chest.

Paige remained frozen, rain dripping down her face like the tears she refused to wipe away. Her hands curled into fists against the pavement, her chest rising and falling in uneven gasps.

She had done this.

She had lost you.

She had broken you.

And now, she had to live with it.

The TV droned on in the background, just noise to fill the silence of your apartment. You weren’t paying much attention—until a familiar name made your head snap up.

"Paige Bueckers will not be playing tonight due to illness," the commentator announced. "The Wings star guard was ruled out earlier today, and sources say she’s been battling a high fever."

You stared at the screen, something tightening in your chest. Paige was sick. You should’ve felt indifferent. You should’ve ignored the small flicker of concern gnawing at you. But the news unsettled you more than you wanted to admit.

Still, it wasn’t your problem. Not anymore.

You turned off the TV.

Your phone buzzed on the counter, the screen lighting up with a familiar name. Paige.

You hesitated. You had seen the news earlier—Paige was out for the game due to illness. You felt something twist in your chest, but you ignored it. This wasn’t your problem. Not anymore.

But then the phone rang again. And again. Until, finally, with an exhausted sigh, you answered.

"What?"

Heavy breathing. A ragged inhale, followed by a weak exhale.

"Please…" Paige’s voice was barely above a whisper, thick with fever and exhaustion. "I’m sorry. Please."

You clenched your jaw. "Stop.”

"I need you."

Your stomach flipped. Her words, raw and desperate, sent a pang of guilt through you. You closed your eyes, gripping the phone tighter. "You have teammates. Friends. Call one of them."

"No," she croaked. "I don’t want anybody else."

Silence stretched between you. Paige sniffled, her breathing uneven, like even talking was taking too much effort.

You knew she was alone. You knew she had no one here in LA.

But the pain that she had caused you was still fresh, so you ended the call.

The news broke early that morning.

"Paige Bueckers ruled out for tonight’s game due to illness."

Sports analysts speculated, fans panicked, and the media churned out theories. But the truth was far simpler—Paige had spent the entire night outside in the rain, and now her body was paying the price.

Her fever spiked, her limbs felt like lead, and every breath rattled in her chest. Yet, none of it compared to the hollow ache gnawing at her insides. She had done this to herself. She had deserved it.

Still, the Dallas Wings needed her, and she wasn’t used to sitting out. She had fought through injuries before, played through pain. But when she tried to get up that morning, the world tilted so violently that she collapsed back onto the bed.

She wasn’t going anywhere.

The game came and went without her, a rare absence that sent shockwaves through the team. The Wings pulled off a win, but Arike had barely processed it. The second the final buzzer sounded, she was out the door, heading straight for Paige’s place.

When she got there, it was worse than she expected.

Paige was curled up under a mess of blankets, her usually sharp blue eyes dull with exhaustion. Her skin was pale, lips chapped, her whole body radiating fever.

“You look like shit,” Arike muttered, dropping a bag of food onto the nightstand. “You even been eating?”

Paige barely moved. “Not hungry.”

Arike rolled her eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Of course you’re not.” She reached out, pressing the back of her hand to Paige’s forehead. The heat was immediate. “Damn, Bueckers. You’re burning up.”

Paige didn’t respond.

Arike sighed, rubbing a hand down her face. “Look, I don’t know what kind of self-destructive spiral you’re on, but this isn’t it. You need to rest, hydrate, eat—”

“I just need her,” Paige mumbled weakly.

Arike stilled, then let out a slow breath. “You’re serious?”

Paige turned her head slightly, barely meeting Arike’s gaze.

That was all the confirmation she needed.

“Jesus Christ.” Arike stood abruptly, frustration rolling off her in waves. “You’re sitting here, making yourself miserable over someone who clearly doesn’t want to deal with your bullshit anymore?”

Paige’s fingers curled into the blankets. “She doesn’t hate me.”

Arike scoffed. “You sure about that?”

Paige didn’t answer.

Arike sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. You’re useless like this.” She snatched Paige’s phone off the nightstand and started dialing.

“What are you doing?” Paige croaked, attempting to sit up.

“Fixing your mess.”

Paige’s heart pounded as she watched Arike bring the phone to her ear. The ringing felt deafening in the quiet room.

No answer.

“Shocking,” Arike muttered.

Paige sank back against the pillows, the rejection hitting her harder than it should have.

But Arike wasn’t done. She pulled out her own phone, punched in a number, and held it to her ear.

A pause. Then—

“…Hello?”

Paige froze.

Arike raised an eyebrow, surprised you had answered an unknown number. “Oh, now you pick up?”

You sighed on the other end. “Who is this?”

Arike crossed her arms. “This is Arike Ogunbowale. You don’t know me, but I know you.”

A beat of silence. Arike, Paige’s teammate. Then your voice, wary. “…Paige told you about me?”

Arike let out a dry laugh. “Not exactly. She’s delirious with fever and still only saying your name. It’s pathetic.”

You inhaled sharply, clearly caught off guard. “That’s not my problem.”

“Yeah, well, it’s somebody’s problem because she’s a damn mess.” Arike paced the room, frustration seeping into her voice. “I don’t know what the hell happened between you two, and honestly, I don’t care. But she won’t sleep, won’t eat, won’t even try to get better. She’s self-destructing right in front of me, and she’s saying you’re the only one who can snap her out of it.”

You exhaled slowly. “I’m not coming.”

Paige, who had been listening quietly, let out a hoarse whisper, “It’s fine.”

Arike turned to look at her. Paige’s eyes were half-lidded, exhaustion pulling at her features. She reached weakly for the phone, but Arike didn’t hand it over.

“Just stay on the line,” Paige murmured, voice barely audible. “Please.”

A long silence stretched over the call.

Then, finally—

“…Fine.”

Arike huffed, rolling her eyes. “Unbelievable.” She placed the phone on speaker and set it on the nightstand, shaking her head. “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.”

Paige barely heard her. The sound of your breathing through the speaker was enough.

She let her eyes drift shut, body sinking into the mattress.

The fever still burned, her chest still ached, but for the first time in days, she felt like she could finally fall asleep.

You weren’t avoiding Paige.

Not really.

You were just… staying off social media. You weren’t checking your mentions, weren’t scrolling through your feed, weren’t leaving any digital footprints that could drag you back into the mess. It wasn’t about her anymore. You had a life—a good one—and you weren’t about to let the ghost of Paige Bueckers haunt it any longer.

But the world had other plans.

Your office was bright with the glow of overhead lights, the soft hum of keyboards clicking filling the air. Colleagues moved around you, caught up in their own tasks, their own conversations. It was just another workday. Until—

"And in sports news, the Dallas Wings secured a win tonight, led by a dominant performance from Paige Bueckers, who returned to the court after missing a game due to illness—"

Your stomach twisted.

You hadn’t meant to look. Hadn’t meant to care. But the TV in the lounge area, just a few steps from your desk, was impossible to ignore. And the second her name hit the airwaves, your body betrayed you. Your eyes flicked up to the screen before you could stop yourself.

There she was.

Paige, standing at the podium, still in her jersey, hair damp with sweat. She looked exhausted but determined, her fingers flexing around the microphone as the reporters fired questions.

"Paige, after missing last game, you came back with a statement win. What fueled that kind of performance?"

Paige exhaled, looking down briefly before speaking.

"I guess I’ve been playing against myself more than anyone else lately."

A murmur rippled through the press room. She wasn’t looking at the reporters anymore. Her eyes were somewhere far away, somewhere heavier.

"Care to elaborate?"

Paige let out a small, breathy laugh. The kind that wasn’t really a laugh at all.

"I’ve just been… stupid," she admitted. "With my actions. With my choices. With the people I should’ve cared about but didn’t."

A hush fell over the room.

"Is this about someone specific?" another reporter asked, voice laced with curiosity.

Paige’s grip on the mic tightened.

"Yeah."

That was it. Just one word.

The room erupted, reporters shouting over each other, fans online likely blowing up with speculation. But Paige wasn’t looking at them anymore. She was looking down, shaking her head at herself, frustration evident in the furrow of her brows.

"I keep losing my chance," she muttered, almost like she hadn’t meant to say it aloud.

Your pulse kicked up.

You knew the internet would dissect this moment, picking apart every syllable. Who was she talking about? Who was the mysterious girl Paige Bueckers had lost her chance with?

You didn’t need to wonder. You already knew.

A colleague passed by, nudging you playfully. "Damn, even Bueckers is getting sentimental out here. Wonder who she’s talking about."

You forced a chuckle. "Yeah, who knows."

You walked back to your desk, ignoring the glances, the murmurs, the growing buzz around the interview. Your fingers hovered over your phone, instinct begging you to check your notifications.

You didn’t.

But then—

Your phone vibrated against your desk.

A message.

From her.

Your heart clenched, but you didn't open it right away. Instead, you just stared at her name, like it had the power to pull you back into something you weren’t sure you could escape.

Eventually, curiosity—or maybe something deeper—won out.

Paige: I know I have no right to ask for anything from you. But if I could take everything back, I would. If I could fix the way I broke you, I would. I was so caught up in my own ego, my own hurt, that I didn’t see what I was doing to you. And I’m sorry. I really am. I know it’s probably too late, but I just needed you to know that.

You exhaled slowly, the weight of her words settling in.

It wasn’t that you weren’t hurt anymore. You were.

But for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel the need to carry it.

It started with flowers.

A stunning arrangement of white lilies and soft pink roses sat on your desk when you arrived at work, standing out against the neutral tones of your office. The card attached was simple, handwritten in familiar, slanted print:

"I hope today is kind to you."

No name. No indication of who sent it. But you knew.

You stared at the flowers for too long, ignoring the knowing glances from your colleagues as you sat down. You considered throwing them away, but your fingers hesitated over the stems. Eventually, you just left them there, untouched yet unmoved.

Then, the next day—food.

Your favorite takeout, delivered right to your doorstep. The exact order, down to the extra sauce packets and the drink you always paired it with. A note tucked inside the bag:

"Eat well. You forget sometimes."

And the next—books.

Not just any books. The ones you had mentioned in passing before, the ones you had gushed about without thinking she was really listening. Each one arriving in a neat package, carefully wrapped, with another note.

"I remember the way your eyes lit up when you talked about this one."

It kept happening. Sweet nothings disguised as small, thoughtful gestures.

A playlist sent to your email, filled with songs that made you feel something once. A coffee, bought and paid for before you even placed your order at your usual café. Letters—actual handwritten letters—left in your mailbox, in your car, on your desk at work.

They weren’t long. Just little thoughts, little confessions.

"I know I don’t deserve to reach for you again, but I can’t seem to stop."

"I replay everything in my head, over and over. Wishing I had done it differently. Wishing I had just held onto you instead of pushing you away."

"You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know."

You didn’t know what to do with any of it.

Because Paige Bueckers does not pursue people.

She does not chase. She does not fold. She does not give herself away so easily.

And yet, here she was.

Quietly, persistently, undeniably—clearly pursuing you.

And you didn’t understand why.

The session ran longer than expected.

You had barely spoken for the first fifteen minutes, staring at the clock, willing time to move faster. But your therapist had a way of sitting with silence that made it unbearable, so eventually, you caved. You talked. Not about her, not directly. But about the weight on your chest, the exhaustion in your bones, the way you were so tired of looking over your shoulder—whether for ghosts or for her, you weren’t sure anymore.

You thought it helped, for a while. Until you stepped out of the office and saw her.

Paige.

Waiting.

She was standing a few feet away from the exit, leaning against the hood of her car, head down, hands buried in the pockets of her hoodie. She looked different. There were shadows beneath her eyes, like sleep had become a foreign concept. Her posture was all wrong—hesitant, unsure, small.

And then, as if sensing your presence, she looked up.

The second your eyes met, your stomach dropped.

She didn’t move right away, just studied you like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to. But you weren’t going to wait for her to find the courage. You turned, ready to walk right past her—

“Wait.” Her voice cracked.

You ignored her.

“Please.”

Something in the way she said it made your steps falter. Not desperate—broken. Like she had lost something she would never find again.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and faced her. “Why are you here?”

Paige exhaled sharply, shoving a hand through her hair. “I don’t know how to let you go.”

Your lips curled into something humorless. “You had no problem doing it before.”

She flinched. “I—”

“No.” Your voice sharpened, cutting through whatever pathetic excuse she was about to give. “Don’t stand here and act like you care. You don’t get to care, Paige. You lost that right when you—” Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it.

Paige stepped forward, panic flashing in her eyes. “I do care. I never stopped.”

You laughed, short and sharp, shaking your head. “You have a sick way of showing it.”

She looked down, swallowing hard. “I know,” she whispered.

Silence stretched between you. The wind howled through the parking lot, biting at your skin. You clenched your fists, grounding yourself.

“I had to start over,” you finally said, voice quieter now. “I had to claw my way out of the hole you threw me in. And now I’m back here. In this hellhole. Because of you.”

Paige’s breathing turned uneven. “I’m sorry.”

You scoffed. “Sorry doesn’t fix anything.”

She took another step closer, hesitantly, like she was approaching something fragile. “Then tell me what does.”

You laughed again, this time bitter. “You leaving.”

Paige’s entire body tensed, like the words physically hurt her. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I love you.”

The breath left your lungs.

Paige must have seen the way you tensed, because she rushed forward, desperation spilling from her every movement. “I didn’t realize it until it was too late. I was so stuck in my own head, so caught up in punishing you, in punishing myself, that I—I destroyed us.” Her voice wavered. “And then you were gone, and I thought—I thought I could live with it. I thought I deserved to.”

She dropped her head, exhaling shakily.

“But I can’t.”

You stared at her, something ugly twisting inside your chest. “You don’t get to say that,” you whispered.

“I know,” she said immediately. “I know I don’t deserve another chance. I know I don’t deserve you. But I swear to God, if I could take it back—” Her voice cracked, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. “I just want to fix it.”

You felt lightheaded. Your breath was coming too fast, your hands were shaking, your mind screaming at you to run.

But Paige didn’t stop.

“I don’t care how long it takes,” she continued, voice thick with emotion. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll prove that I—”

“Shut up.”

Paige froze.

You pressed your hands against your temples, trying to breathe. Trying to stay here. But everything was spinning, spiraling out of control.

She reached for you.

You yanked away. “Why are you still here?!”

Paige’s lips parted, something terrified flashing in her expression.

You stumbled back, vision going blurry. “You ruin me,” you whispered.

And then the world tilted.

The last thing you heard was Paige’s panicked voice calling your name before the ground disappeared beneath you.

The first thing you registered was warmth.

Soft sheets. The distant hum of the air conditioning. The faint scent of something familiar—clean linen, a hint of lavender and musk. Your head felt heavy, as if your body was reluctant to pull itself back into awareness.

You blinked against the dim glow of the bedside lamp, your vision adjusting to the dark. The room was unfamiliar. Not yours. Panic started creeping in, curling around your chest like a vice.

Where were you?

You forced yourself upright, the world tilting slightly as you did. The movement stirred something in the room. A quiet rustle. You turned your head, pulse spiking—

Paige.

She was on the couch a few feet away, curled into herself, a blanket draped haphazardly over her legs. Her breathing was steady, deep—she was asleep.

Your heart hammered against your ribs.

What the hell is going on?

You barely remembered what happened. Just fragments. The fight. The weight of your own emotions crushing you until your body finally gave out.

And Paige—she must have been the one who—

You swung your legs over the side of the bed, desperate to leave, but the slight creak of the mattress was enough to rouse her.

She stirred, shifting under the blanket. Then, as if instinctually attuned to your presence, she blinked awake, eyes immediately locking onto yours.

“You’re up,” she murmured, her voice laced with sleep.

You didn’t respond. Your mind was still trying to catch up with the reality of where you were.

Paige rubbed at her eyes, pushing herself upright. “How do you feel?”

You swallowed, trying to ignore the tightness in your throat. “Where am I?”

“My place.”

Your pulse spiked again. “Why—why would you—”

Paige must have seen the rising panic on your face because she quickly sat forward, hands raised in a placating gesture. “You fainted. I—I didn’t know where else to take you.”

“My house.” Your voice was hoarse.

She exhaled, nodding. “I know. I just—” She hesitated, running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

Your stomach twisted.

Paige glanced away, almost shyly. “I told Nat. She knows you’re here.”

That startled you. Paige and Nat had barely ever spoken—at least, not before everything had fallen apart. The fact that Paige had reached out out of respect rather than possessiveness felt… unfamiliar.

Different.

You didn’t know what to do with that.

A thick silence settled between you.

Then Paige, ever careful, ever hesitant, asked, “Are you hungry?”

You barely processed the question, still too overwhelmed by everything else. Your fingers gripped the sheets, grounding yourself. “I just… I want to go home.”

Something flickered in Paige’s eyes—something pained. But she nodded immediately, standing. “Okay,” she said quickly. “Okay, yeah. Of course.”

She stepped toward you, hands twitching at her sides, like she wanted to help you stand but didn’t know if she was allowed. You stood on your own, though your legs still felt unsteady. The room spun slightly.

Paige noticed.

She was in front of you in an instant, not touching, but there. “Wait—are you okay? Maybe sit down for a second—”

You shook your head, your breathing quickening. “No, I—I need to go.”

Paige hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to respect your boundaries and the instinct to make sure you were okay.

You must have looked as wrecked as you felt because something in her expression cracked.

“Alright,” she said, softer this time. “I’ll take you home.”

The way she said it—like she would’ve agreed to anything you asked, no matter how much it killed her—made something inside you ache.

The drive home was wrapped in silence.

Paige kept her hands on the wheel, fingers gripping a little too tight, knuckles pale in the dim streetlights. You stared out the window, watching the world blur past, your mind miles away.

Neither of you spoke.

It wasn’t the same silence that had once been filled with resentment or anger. No, this was something heavier—an understanding of all the wreckage between you, too vast to be stitched together with simple words.

When she finally pulled up to your place, she didn’t move to leave. She sat there, hands still on the wheel, hesitant, uncertain.

You sighed, exhausted. “You can go now.”

Paige swallowed, hesitant. “Can I stay?”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t nod, didn’t shake your head. You just got out of the car and walked inside.

And somehow, Paige took that as a yes.

You didn’t look back, but you heard her follow—her soft footsteps trailing behind yours, careful and unsure, as if waiting for you to tell her to stop. But you didn’t.

She didn’t go any further than the living room.

You saw her out of the corner of your eye as you walked past—standing there, lingering, hands shoved into her pockets, shoulders tense. Like she didn’t know what to do now that she was here.

You didn’t care.

You shut the door to your room behind you and leaned against it, exhaling sharply.

Paige didn’t leave.

You could hear her moving around in the living room, barely making a sound, but her presence was unmistakable. It was unsettling.

For so long, Paige had been a force of destruction in your life, a storm that never left anything untouched. And yet, now, she moved differently. Like she was afraid of breaking what was left of you.

You sat on the edge of your bed, hands clasped together, trying to gather your thoughts.

This wasn’t making sense.

Why was she still here?

Why was she doing all of this?

You had spent so long thinking of Paige as the villain in your story, the selfish, reckless storm that had torn through your life without a second thought. And now, here she was—lingering, waiting, desperate to mend what she’d shattered.

What the hell was her hidden agenda?

The thought clawed at you until you couldn’t sit still anymore.

You pushed the door open, stepping back into the dimly lit living room. Paige was there, sitting on the couch, her hands clasped between her knees, eyes distant.

She looked up the second you entered.

You exhaled sharply. “Alright, what is it?”

Paige blinked. “What?”

“You,” you said, crossing your arms. “What are you doing? What’s your plan? Your angle?”

Paige’s brows furrowed. “I don’t have one.”

You scoffed. “Right. Because you just suddenly decided you care? After everything?”

She flinched.

You didn’t stop. “After months of making my life hell? After making sure I had nothing left at UConn? After ruining everything I tried to rebuild here in LA?” Your voice cracked, but you didn’t care. “You don’t get to just show up, apologize a couple of times, and act like we can go back to normal.”

Paige stood then, slow and careful, like she knew you were on the verge of breaking all over again.

“I know,” she said, voice quiet but steady. “I know I don’t deserve anything from you. I know I ruined everything. I—” She exhaled, shaking her head. “I was selfish. And cruel. And I thought if I could make you hurt even half as much as I was hurting, it would make it easier.”

You stared at her. “And did it?”

Paige swallowed hard. “No,” she admitted. “It only made me lose the only person I ever—” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “I just— I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to keep your emotions in check. “And what? You want me to just believe you?”

“No,” Paige said, stepping closer. “I want to prove it to you.”

You felt the heat of her presence now, the way she was looking at you like she was barely holding herself back.

She inhaled sharply, gathering herself before she said, “I want to apologize. To everyone. To Natalie” Paige hesitated, eyes flickering with something unreadable.

That caught you off guard.

“You… what?”

“I hurt her too,” Paige said simply. “I ruined what you had with her, and I never once considered what that meant for her.” She met your gaze, steady and sure. “If I’m going to do this right, then I need to do it right. And I need to start there.”

You didn’t know what to say.

For months, you had dreamed of hearing Paige apologize, of seeing her wrecked with regret. And now that it was happening, you didn’t know what to do with it.

She was changing. You could see it in her eyes, in the way she carried herself. But could you trust it?

Paige seemed to sense your hesitation because she took another step closer, just close enough that you could see the sincerity written all over her face.

“Just let me try,” she murmured. “I’m not asking for anything else.”

You stared at her for a long moment, then looked away.

You weren’t going to give her an answer.

Paige exhaled, like she expected that.

Still, she didn’t take it as a no.

Paige didn’t stop.

She didn’t hesitate.

She pursued you the way she pursued basketball—with relentless, unwavering determination.

But this time, it wasn’t for a game. It wasn’t about winning.

It was about you.

And for once, she wasn’t trying to take anything from you. She was trying to give.

It started small.

A text every morning, even when you didn’t reply.

Paige: Good morning. Hope today’s not too shitty. Paige: Or if it is, at least let it be the fun kind of shitty.

A reminder before your therapy sessions.

Paige: You got this. No running out halfway through, okay?

And after.

Paige: Didn’t wanna bug you, but… how was it?

She never pushed. Never demanded anything.

But she was there. Always.

You told yourself it was just guilt, that she was overcompensating for the past. That she’d eventually get tired of it.

She never did.

When you got home from a session one day, Paige was there.

She wasn’t waiting on your doorstep like some lovesick idiot, though. She was sitting in her car, parked across the street, looking at her phone.

You hesitated, but when she glanced up and saw you, she smiled. It wasn’t cocky or teasing. Just… warm.

“Hey.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “You don’t have to keep doing this.”

Paige tilted her head. “Doing what?”

“Hovering.”

“I’m not hovering.” She shoved her hands into her pockets. “I’m making sure you’re okay.”

You exhaled. “Why?”

Her expression softened. “Because I want to.”

You shook your head, but she didn’t let you shut her out.

“Did you eat?” she asked, changing the subject entirely.

You blinked at her. “What?”

“Food,” Paige said. “You know, that thing that keeps you alive? Did you have any today?”

You hesitated, and that was all the answer she needed.

She sighed and shook her head. “Come on.”

Before you could protest, she was already moving, grabbing the grocery bag from the passenger seat of her car.

You narrowed your eyes. “What is that?”

“Food,” she said simply. “You’re gonna sit down, and I’m gonna cook.”

You scoffed. “Since when do you cook?”

Paige smirked. “Since right now.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but then she was already stepping past you, into your apartment like she belonged there.

And for some reason… you let her.

She was awful at cooking.

You could tell by the way she furrowed her brows at the stove, as if willing it to make sense.

“Jesus,” you muttered, watching her struggle. “I should’ve just ordered takeout.”

“Shut up,” Paige shot back, gripping the spatula like it personally offended her. “I got this.”

She did not, in fact, have this.

The chicken was overcooked, the rice slightly burnt, but she still placed the plate in front of you with a proud grin.

You stared at the mess of a meal. “You sure you didn’t just try to poison me?”

Paige gasped. “Wow. This is what I get for trying to feed you?”

You huffed, but your lips twitched.

And when you actually took a bite, despite how disastrous it looked, it wasn’t terrible.

Paige watched you like a puppy waiting for praise.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s… edible.”

Her grin widened. “You love it.”

“I tolerate it.”

Paige laughed, and something about the sound was so genuine, so light, that you forgot, just for a second, about all the things she had done before.

She kept showing up.

She didn’t ask for anything in return.

She didn’t try to force you into forgiving her.

She just… made herself present.

When you had therapy, she’d be outside, waiting, even if she never said a word about it.

When you had a bad day, she’d drop off your favorite snacks, sending nothing but a simple text:

Paige: In case today sucked. And if it didn’t, then congrats. Free snacks.

She walked you through your panic attacks, through the days where you didn’t even want to get out of bed.

She learned how to help, the right things to say, the right way to be there without suffocating you.

She even got you to laugh again.

And somewhere, somehow, through all of it…

You started to believe her.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt… good.

Not just tolerable. Not just okay. But good.

Paige had worked her way back into your life, brick by brick, never rushing, never demanding more than what you could give. And somehow, you found yourself meeting her halfway without even realizing it.

Even Natalie had softened.

She had always been observant, even when you didn’t realize it. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t surprised when she saw Paige lingering around more, the conversations shifting from tension-filled to teasing, the way you started looking at her with something other than exhaustion.

One afternoon, you met up with Nat at your usual café. She stirred her tea absentmindedly, looking at you with a knowing smirk. “So… you and Paige?”

You tensed, feeling the weight of guilt rise, but she just chuckled and shook her head. “Relax. I knew this was coming the second she stepped back into town.”

You swallowed. “You sure you’re okay with it?”

She took a sip before setting her cup down. “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting a little at first. But I know you.” She met your gaze. “And I know her. And honestly? I think she gets it now.”

You exhaled, something in your chest loosening. “She does.”

Nat nodded. “Good. Then I’m happy for you.”

And just like that, the last lingering piece of guilt melted away. You reached across the table, squeezing her hand, silently thanking her for everything. She squeezed back, smiling.

She still gave Paige a hard time—because of course she did—but the tension that once strangled the air between them had eased.

You caught them talking the other day when they thought you weren’t listening.

“You really love her, don’t you?” Natalie had said, arms crossed, a knowing look in her eyes.

Paige had gone quiet for a moment before answering.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “I do.”

And maybe, deep down, you’d already known. But hearing it like that, so soft and certain, had done something to you.

Because even you had to admit it now.

You were falling for her again.

But this time, it wasn’t reckless.

It wasn’t blind.

It wasn’t naive.

Paige had earned it.

You were sitting on the couch one night, half-asleep against Paige’s shoulder, when she broke the comfortable silence.

“Be mine.”

It was so quiet, so gentle, that for a second, you thought you imagined it.

You blinked up at her, groggy and confused. “Huh?”

Paige shifted, turning toward you slightly, her face inches from yours.

“I’m asking you to be mine,” she said, a nervous edge to her voice. “For real this time.”

You swallowed, your heart thumping in your chest.

She’d never asked before.

Not like this.

Before, she had taken. Assumed. Expected.

But now?

She was giving you the choice.

And for once, it didn’t feel like a mistake.

It felt… right.

So you exhaled, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Took you long enough.”

Paige grinned, wide and breathtaking, and before you could say anything else, she kissed you.

It was soft, careful, nothing like the reckless desperation of the past.

It felt like home.

And maybe, just maybe, you were finally ready to let yourself have this.

Paige had been nothing but perfect these past few weeks. The way she handled you with care, the way she was making up for everything—there wasn’t a moment you doubted that she wanted this, that she wanted you. And for the first time in a long time, things were steady, safe.

Until now.

You hadn’t meant to spiral. You hadn’t meant to let the past claw its way back into your mind and wrap around your heart like a vice, but the moment you saw Azzi’s name attached to a post, everything cracked.

Her name was everywhere.

She was back in town for a WNBA event, one that Paige was also attending.

And suddenly, everything felt off-kilter.

You tried to ignore it.

Tried to remind yourself that Paige was here, with you, that she had chosen you.

But the past had a way of creeping up when you least expected it.

Paige noticed your shift immediately.

“You okay?” she asked, her hand warm over yours.

You nodded, too quickly. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Paige frowned, unconvinced. “You sure?”

You forced a smile. “Positive.”

But you both knew it was a lie.

Because for the first time since you had let her back in, you felt the creeping weight of doubt.

And you hated it.

Paige had promised to keep you updated.

She was out with her old teammates for the WNBA event—nothing crazy, just catching up with the people who had been her family for years.

And true to her word, she sent little updates throughout the night.

Paige: Just got here. You’d love this restaurant.

Paige: Nika already started roasting me. Save me.

Paige: Aaliyah won’t stop talking about her dog. I might steal him.

You smiled at the messages, heart warm despite the small sting of unease. You weren’t jealous exactly. You just… didn’t like how much Azzi’s presence rattled you.

Paige was yours now.

She had worked for this.

She had chosen you.

So why did it feel like you were losing your grip on something fragile?

The answer came an hour later, when you casually opened Instagram and saw the stories.

Nika had posted first—just a blurry boomerang of the table, drinks clinking together. Harmless, laughter frozen in time. Paige was there, right where she said she’d be, and it shouldn’t have been a problem.

Then Aaliyah’s story. A candid shot of Paige leaning in close to Azzi, heads tilted in conversation. A short clip of the two of them laughing about something you weren’t in on. Familiarity. History. A connection you would never understand.

Your chest tightened. Your stomach twisted, your fingers tightening around your phone.

It was stupid, so stupid.

But you couldn’t stop the sinking feeling, the sharp ache in your chest.

Paige was supposed to be yours.

Why did it look like she was still hers?

You knew Paige was different now. You knew she loved you. But you had also seen her once, broken and desperate, begging Azzi not to leave. You had seen the way she had once needed her like air. And maybe Paige didn’t realize it, but you did.  And it hurt.

You didn’t even think before your fingers were typing, before you pressed send.

You: I can’t do this. We’re done. Don’t come back.

The weight in your chest grew heavier the second the message delivered. Your phone vibrated immediately after. Paige. Calling, then texting. You ignored each one.

Paige: What?? What are you talking about??

Paige: Baby, please, talk to me.

Your throat burned as you threw your phone onto the bed, gripping your hair. Why did this hurt so much? Why did you feel like you were right back where you started?

You had come so far. You had healed. Paige had healed.

So why did it feel like she was slipping through your fingers all over again?

Paige was losing it.

And for a long time, she just stared at it, rereading the words over and over as if they would change.

We’re done.

She didn’t understand.

What the hell had just happened?

She had rushed back to her hotel the moment she saw your text, heart hammering, mind racing. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t fair. You were finally good, she was finally good, and now this?

She pulled out her phone hoping to see your reply. Nothing. But then she saw it.

Aaliyah’s story.

Azzi next to her, too close, too familiar.

Realization hit Paige like a truck.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath. Standing abruptly and grabbing her things.

“Where are you going?” Nika asked, raising a brow. They followed Paige back to the hotel.

The stories. That’s the only thing it could be. The way you ghosted her, the way you shut her out—it had to be because of what you saw.

But it wasn’t what you thought. Not even close.

Paige paced her hotel room before making a decision. She grabbed her jacket and turned to Azzi, who sat on the couch, watching her cautiously.

“I need you to come with me,” Paige said, voice tight. “I need you to help me fix this.”

Azzi frowned. “Paige—”

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need her to hear it from you. Please.”

Azzi hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The knocking on your door was relentless. You sat curled up on the couch, hugging your knees, willing it all to stop. But Paige was nothing if not persistent.

“Please open the door,” Paige’s voice came through, raw and strained. “Please, baby. I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

You stayed still.

Then another voice. Softer. Hesitant.

“It’s Azzi.”

That made you flinch. You weren’t expecting that. You weren’t sure you even wanted to see her, but something about her tone made you move.

With a deep breath, you opened the door. Paige looked wrecked, eyes desperate, hands clenched like she was holding herself back from reaching for you. And beside her stood Azzi, quiet but resolute.

Paige took a step forward, but Azzi gently held her back. “Let me talk to her first.”

Paige hesitated, jaw tightening, but she nodded and stepped away.

You swallowed, stepping back to let Azzi inside. The air between you was thick, heavy with unspoken things.

Azzi sighed, running a hand through her hair before meeting your eyes. “Look. I know why you’re upset. And I get it.”

You clenched your fists. “Do you?”

Azzi nodded. “Yeah. I do. Because I was there when Paige was falling apart over me, and I know how hard that must be for you to forget.”

You exhaled sharply, looking away.

“But that’s not what’s happening here,” Azzi continued. “I’m not here for Paige. I haven’t been for a long time. And Paige isn’t here for me.”

You bit your lip, shaking your head. “Then what was that? What did I see?”

Azzi smiled sadly. “Two people with a lot of history catching up. That’s all.” She tilted her head, watching you. “Paige only talked about you. About how happy she finally is. About how she doesn’t want to mess this up.”

Your breath hitched.

“She loves you,” Azzi said, firm but kind. “And if you love her too, then don’t let your fears ruin what you two have built.”

You closed your eyes, shoulders sinking. You knew she was right. You had known the second you sent that text that it wasn’t fair, that it wasn’t what you truly wanted.

Azzi hesitated before adding, “And you know, even when we were together… Paige had her eyes on you then.”

Your head snapped up. “What?”

Azzi gave a small, knowing smile. “She used to tell me stories about this girl in her psych class. How smart she was, how she always had the right answers, how she carried herself.” She chuckled dryly. “I should’ve known then.”

You swallowed hard.

“I even saw a picture of you on her phone once. A candid. I let it slide. Didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.” Azzi looked down. “But when I saw those pictures of you two kissing that night, it clicked. You think she just randomly picked you? Paige may be bad at her decisions but her self-control is everything. I knew right away that I’d already lost.” She exhaled. “Paige was just too stupid to realize where her heart belonged sooner.”

Shock washed over you. Your mind raced, connecting the dots, seeing the truth that had been right there all along.

Azzi sighed, stepping back toward the door. “Talk to her.”

She opened it, revealing Paige still standing there, arms wrapped around herself like she was holding herself together. Her eyes were glassy, pleading, hopeful.

Azzi gave her a small nod before stepping out, leaving you alone with Paige.

Paige took a shaky breath. “Please don’t leave me.”

Your heart clenched.

“I swear to you, I only want you,” she whispered, stepping forward. “If I have to spend every day proving that to you, I will.”

You bit your lip, trying to stay firm, but the pain in her voice cracked something in you.

Paige reached for your hand, gripping it tightly. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tears pricked your eyes. Maybe it was time to stop running.

Maybe it was time to believe.

The weight of the misunderstanding still lingered in the air, but as Paige sat beside you on your couch, her fingers idly tracing circles on the back of your hand, you realized something—you didn’t want to waste any more time being afraid.

She had proven herself. Over and over again. And now, with everything out in the open, there was nothing left to doubt.

You turned to her, watching as she stared down at your hands, like she was afraid to meet your eyes. You smirked a little, the tension finally ebbing away. "So… all this time?"

Paige blinked, glancing up. "Huh?"

"All this time," you repeated, amusement dancing in your voice. "You had your eyes on me even when you were with Azzi?"

Paige let out a groan, immediately covering her face with her free hand. "Oh my God. We just fixed things, don’t make me die of embarrassment now."

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in days. "I mean, it’s kind of a big deal. Azzi straight-up told me she caught you talking about me all the time, and that she even saw a picture of me on your phone before. Paige, you were so obvious."

Paige peeked through her fingers, her face flushed. "I wasn't obvious."

You raised an eyebrow. "You told your girlfriend back then that there was a girl in your psych class who was so smart and cool."

Paige groaned again, flopping onto your lap. "I hate this. I hate that Azzi told you everything."

You grinned, running your fingers through her hair. "So, it’s true then? You’ve been into me since way back?"

Paige let out a dramatic sigh, her warm breath against your thigh. "Fine. Yes. I had a stupid crush on you since psych class. Happy now?"

You tilted your head, pretending to think. "Hmm. I don't know. I might need more details."

She turned her head to look up at you, her eyes soft and affectionate. "You really want to know?"

You nodded, and she sat up, shifting so she could face you properly. Taking your hands in hers, she squeezed lightly. "You were different from everyone else. You never looked at me like I was some superstar or some untouchable athlete. You just—" Paige exhaled, shaking her head as if she were back in that time. "You treated me like a normal person. Like I was just some girl in your class who had to work for your attention. And I—I liked that more than I should have."

You swallowed, your chest warming. "Paige…"

She let out a small, nervous laugh. "I didn’t even realize what it meant back then. I just knew that I always found myself looking for you in class, wanting to impress you, wanting to make you laugh. And when I saw you at that bar that night…" Her thumb brushed over your knuckles. "I guess a part of me just couldn’t resist anymore."

Your heart thudded in your chest. "You really are stupid, huh?"

Paige laughed, shaking her head. "The absolute worst."

You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "Lucky for you, I have a soft spot for idiots."

She grinned against your mouth, her arms wrapping around you to pull you close. "Yeah? Think you can keep loving this idiot?"

You smiled, your forehead resting against hers. "I think I already do."

Paige’s breath hitched, her arms tightening around you before she kissed you again, deeper this time. Everything that had weighed you both down before was gone, replaced with warmth, certainty, and love.

And for once, there was no fear—just you and Paige, exactly where you were always meant to be.

Mornings were slow and peaceful now. No more waking up with a knot in your stomach, no more wondering if you’d lose Paige again. Instead, there was warmth—Paige’s arms wrapped around you, her steady breathing against your neck, the sleepy murmurs of her voice as she pulled you closer, reluctant to start the day without at least ten more minutes of holding you.

“Babe,” you mumbled, shifting in her embrace. “We have to get up.”

Paige groaned, tightening her grip. “Five more minutes.”

“You said that ten minutes ago.”

“Did I?” she teased, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “My bad. Guess we’re stuck here forever.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was full. This was your daily life now—waking up next to Paige, teasing each other, lingering in bed because neither of you wanted to leave the comfort of your little world.

Eventually, you managed to slip out of her grasp and start breakfast, but Paige wasn’t far behind. She walked into the kitchen, hair messy. She looked at you with that lazy, lopsided grin, the one that made your heart stutter even now.

“What’s on the menu, chef?” she asked, resting her chin on your shoulder as you flipped a pancake.

“Food you don’t deserve after trying to trap me in bed all morning.”

Paige laughed, wrapping her arms around your waist. “I was only trying to make up for all those wasted years when I was too stupid to see what was right in front of me.”

You smirked, setting the spatula down. “Oh? You mean all those years you spent secretly pining over me while dating Azzi?”

Paige groaned dramatically, burying her face in your neck. “Are you ever gonna let me live that down?”

“Never,” you teased, turning in her arms. “It’s my favorite thing to think about. Little freshman Paige, sitting in psych class, staring at me instead of taking notes.”

She huffed but couldn’t hide the sheepish smile tugging at her lips. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Right,” you drawled. “Just admiring from afar?”

Paige rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. “Fine. Maybe I did have a tiny, minuscule, microscopic crush on you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Microscopic, huh? So microscopic you had a picture of me on your phone?”

Paige groaned again, resting her forehead against yours. “I should’ve never let Azzi tell you that.”

You chuckled, feeling entirely too smug. “Too late. I’m never letting it go.”

Paige sighed dramatically before pulling you in for a kiss, soft and slow. “If it makes you feel any better,” she murmured against your lips, “I like you even more now.”

Your hands tangled in her hair, breakfast completely forgotten. “You better.”

The rest of the day was a blur of happiness—Paige stealing bites of your food, arguing over what to watch on Netflix, going on a late afternoon walk just to enjoy the fresh air. The simplicity of it all made your chest ache in the best way. No drama, no lingering doubts. Just love, in its purest form.

That night, curled up on the couch with Paige’s head in your lap, you ran your fingers through her hair, thinking about how far you’d both come.

“You still awake?” she murmured sleepily.

“Yeah.”

Paige tilted her head up, gazing at you with soft, sleepy eyes. “Are you happy?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” you whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I really am.”

Paige smiled, the kind that made your whole world feel lighter. “Good. Because I’m never letting you go.”

You leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I’m counting on it.”

And in that moment, with Paige curled against you, breathing steady and heart completely yours, you knew—this was it. This was home. This was forever.

Life with Paige had settled into a rhythm that felt like home. Every morning, she’d wake up first, pressing sleepy kisses to your forehead before heading to practice. You’d get up an hour later, working on your own career, whether from home or at your office downtown. Evenings were spent together, sometimes attending games, sometimes watching them from the couch, Paige curled against you as she dissected plays and strategies between bites of popcorn.

But tonight was different.

You were standing on a rooftop overlooking the city, fairy lights casting a warm glow, the soft hum of music playing in the background. Paige stood before you, fidgeting slightly, her usual confidence laced with nervous energy.

“I had this whole speech planned,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “But my brain’s kind of short-circuiting right now, so I’m just gonna say it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as she took a deep breath and slowly lowered herself to one knee.

“I spent so many years running from my own feelings, pushing you away, hurting you because I was too scared to face the truth.” Her voice wavered, but her eyes were steady, full of emotion. “And yet, you still stayed in my heart. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I never want to spend another second pretending like I could ever live without you.”

She pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a ring—simple yet elegant, exactly your style.

“Will you marry me?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You felt the breath leave your lungs, eyes stinging as you stared down at the woman who had once been your greatest heartbreak and was now your greatest love.

“Yes,” you whispered, then laughed, stronger this time. “Yes, Paige, of course.”

Relief and joy washed over her face as she slipped the ring onto your finger, standing quickly to pull you into her arms. The kiss was deep, full of promises and certainty. Around you, the city lights shimmered, but nothing shone brighter than the love between you two.

The months that followed were filled with wedding plans, career milestones, and unwavering support for each other. Paige continued to dominate on the court, leading her team to championships, while you flourished in your own field. No matter how busy life got, you both made time—time for dinner dates, for late-night drives, for simple moments that reminded you why you chose each other.

The wedding was everything you had dreamed of—intimate yet grand, surrounded by friends, family, and teammates who had seen your journey unfold. When Paige recited her vows, voice thick with emotion, you saw the girl from psych class, the girl who had spent years figuring out her heart, and the woman who now stood before you, completely and undeniably yours.

“I loved you before I even knew it,” Paige confessed, her hands trembling slightly as she held yours. “And I will love you for every day to come.”

And as you said your own vows, as you kissed her to the sound of cheers and applause, you knew—you had found your forever.

[strnilolover]

٠ ࣪⭑ prince!matt has something special planned for darling

valentine’s day special!

warnings : none! this is very sweet and fluffy

valentine's day was something everyone in the castle celebrated. maids, servants, people from the town—even matts own parents.

he wasn't against this holiday at all, he loved it. and often wished he could give his love to someone too but, his parents were set on him being with someone of noble standards.

since matt never really had a reason to celebrate valentine's day, seeing as he never had anyone to celebrate the day with. he always watched other couples from a distance—how in love they looked and gifts that were bought for their significant other.

but now...now he had a reason to celebrate this day.

darling.

sure, in everyone's eyes, she was just his personal maid. but they didn't know what went on behind closed doors. all the stolen kisses, hugs and intimate affection happening right under all their noses and they had no clue.

he wanted to make this day special—even if she already knew how much she meant to him. he always wanted to remind her, that no one else had his heart except for her. not even the girl he was being forced to marry.

with his mind set and plans already put into place, matt moved swiftly through the halls that were decorated with roses and flowers. his shoes clicking against the floor as he made his way towards his bedroom where he's sure darling already was, tidying up his space or doing his laundry.

once he approached the door, his hands quietly pushed it open. slipping inside and closing it with a soft *click* behind him. sure enough, darling was standing over at his desk—tidying his mess he had made.

he smiled, watching her relaxed frame move swiftly as she did her job, which she was so incredibly good at. slowly, he moved towards her. his hands coming to wrap around her waist and pull her back flush against his chest.

"darling." he murmured, pressing his face in the space where her shoulder and neck met, his lips peppering light kissed along her skin. she smiled softly, her arms coming up to wrap around his own. "matt." she greeted in return, turning her head slightly to allow him more room.

matt didn't linger on her neck for long, giving a few more pecks before pulling away and turning her around in his grasp. when his head tipped down, eyes landing on her face, he couldn't help but to smile more. "i have some things planned for us today, my love." he said, pulling her even closer to him.

darlings brows furrowed. "plans? what plans?" she asked softly, her own head tipping up to look into his eyes. matt smirked, flashing her his teeth. it was hard to keep things from her—but he wanted this to be special.

slowly he pulled away, unwrapping his arms from around her to reach down and grab her hands. "you'll see, darling." he whispered, already beginning to walk backwards, tugging her along. but she stopped. "matt, i still have—“

"shh, your work can wait until later. i'm not taking no for an answer." he said, cutting her words off, continuing to tug her backwards and this time she followed—giving up on trying to argue with him. when they reached the door, he let her hands go, opening the wooden doors and turning his head to look at her.

"follow me, baby."

-

darling thought she knew the palace like the back of her hands—but obviously not. she walked right beside matt, her brows furrowing and eyes wide with curiosity.

“matt, where are you taking me?” she asked, reaching her hand up to tug on his sleeve to get his attention. matt just smiled, looking at her out the corner of his eyes. “you’ll see darling. we’re almost there.” and he quickly grabbed her hands, smirking before bolting down the hall.

darling stumbled over her feet before settling into a sprint with him. she laughed, the sound mingling with matt’s own. “matt!” she giggled, holding his hand tighter as she continued to run with him.

he peered at her over his shoulder, smiling and laughing as he tugged her along. eventually, they made it to their destination—slipping in through the doors quickly. darling’s chest rose and fell rapidly, quickly trying to catch her breath from running.

eventually when her breathing evened out, she straightened, peering around the unfamiliar room that she was standing in. a grand mirror stood in front of her—so many fabrics and clothing lining the room. she was speechless.

“matt? where..where are we?” she asks, turning to look at him, watching as he talked to a female she didn’t even notice. darling stood there, watching as matt got a last word in before turning his attention to her.

matt smiled at her, walking over to stand behind her. his hands coming up to her shoulders, slowly moving his fingers into the tenseness of her back. “this is for you. go follow her and you’ll see.” he whispered against her ear, moving a hand up to brush her hair to the side—pressing a kiss to her neck.

darling has never worn something as luxurious as she is right now. not even at the ball she attended with him one time.

she stood before the grand mirror—the lady she followed a bit ago had her draped in the most stunning gown she had ever laid eyes on. the fabric was a soft blue, flowing like water over her body, cinching at the waist before cascading into an elegant skirt. delicate beading across her chest and following down to the fabric covering her thighs.

her hands slowly smoothed over her own body, her eyes not believing what she was seeing. she looked beautiful. no—stunning.

matt stood behind her, watching her expression closely, the way her eyes seemed to sparkle at the dress she had on. he had spent weeks planning this, ensuring that every detail was perfect. that everything was perfect just for her—for his girl.

darling caught matt’s gaze in the mirror, smiling as she picked up the bottom softly and turned herself around to face him. “you- what is this for?” she asked, her face was flushed—she felt nervous being in something so expensive.

matt just grinned, bringing a hand up and beckoning her forward. “c’mere, i have something else for you darling.” he said, and she raised a brow, now noticing one of his hands behind his back. she took a tentative step forward, making sure to not trip over her own feet in the heels she was wearing before walking over to stand in front of him.

“this-“ he started, pulling out a delicate tiara from behind his back. darling gasped, watching the way the jewels hit the lighting in the room. he reached out, placing the tiara on top of her head gently. “-this is for you, my love.”

darling’s breath hitched as his fingers lingering in her hair for just a moment too long. finally dropping his hands, he grabbed her waist, spinning her around toward the mirror. even if she was away from it—she could see the beauty of the accessory that was placed on her.

“matt…” she whispered, her own hands coming up to gently graze the shape of the tiara. matt rested his chin against her shoulder, watching as she took herself in. “do y’like it darling?” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the skin her dress showed off. “look so beautiful—like a queen. my queen.”

darlings chest tightened at his words, her fingers still ghosting over the delicate tiara as she met matt’s gaze in the mirror. he looked so proud, so full of adoration that it made her heart thump against her chest rapidly. slowly, she turned in his hold, resting her hands lightly against his chest. “I don’t even know what to say…” she whispered, overwhelmed by the effort he had put into all of this—for her.

matt just smiled, brushing his knuckles against her cheek before leaning down to kiss her softly. she reciprocated, her hands tightening against the fabric of his clothes before he pulled away. gently, he took her hand, intertwining their fingers and giving a gentle tug like he did earlier. “come on, there’s one more surprise,” he said softly.

darling followed without hesitation, the flowing fabric of her dress whispering around her ankles as matt led her through the winding halls. when they reached a side entrance she had never seen before, matt pushed open the door, and the moment they stepped outside, a crisp breeze greeted them, carrying with it the scent of freshly baked pastries and rich, decadent chocolate.

darlings eyes widened as she took in their destination—a quaint, tucked-away bakery, the windows glowing warmly against the cool evening air. a string of fairy lights adorned the entrance, casting a golden glow over the cobblestone path leading to the door.

“matt…” she breathed, turning to look at him.

he grinned, slipping his hand from hers and resting them on her waist. “let’s get inside darling, alright?” and she beamed, nodding her head excitedly as she practically began to sprint to the entrance, dragging matt.

matt chuckled, gripping her hips tightly as they approached the doors, holding her still. she gave a quiet whine, turning to look at matt as if he just took away a delicious treat from her—and he basically did. “darling, it’s okay, let me just-“ he muttered, moving to stand in front of her as his hand grabbed the door handle, opening the door for her.

the moment they stepped inside, a wave of warmth wrapped around them, accompanied by the heavenly aroma of sugar and spice. the bakery was empty—save for a soft-spoken woman behind the counter who greeted matt with a knowing smile. clearly, he had arranged this in advance.

candles flickered on a private table set for two near a fireplace, a delicate bouquet of roses resting in the center. a plate of heart-shaped pastries and a pot of tea awaited them. darling turned to matt, her voice hushed. “you… you did all of this?”

matt smiled as he brushed his fingers against hers, lacing them together. “of course I did. you deserve the best, darling.”her heart melted as she lowered her gaze, letting him guide her to her seat. and slowly, matt reached for a small pastry and held it up to her lips, his expression softening.

“try it. I made sure they put extra honey in it—just how you like.” he stated, holding the soft treat to her mouth. darling’s eyes softened as she took a bite, the sweetness of the pastry nothing compared to the love in Matt’s gaze. she swallowed, shaking her head in awe.

“this is the best valentine’s day ever.”

a/n : listen ik it’s a month late…im sorry forgive me. but here’s some prince matt FINALLY!

[milkoomi]

₊˚⊹ ᰔ it-girl school tips ᝰ.ᐟ

a new semester is around the corner for a lot of us, and i’m seeing so many blog posts about study/school tips, and i thought i’d share a few of my own that i’ve began to implement into my own school routine that helped me succeed during the fall semester!

just to preface: i took 2, almost 3, gap years after my first year at a university. i realized i was so burnt out after high school and my mental health wasn’t where i needed it to be, so i took a very much needed break! i started back up in school earlier last year in the spring, and i am flourishing! i’ve reconnected with my love and passion for my education and i’ve eased myself back into a comfortable, but effective, routine that’s helped me succeed!

let’s begin !!

ᝰ.ᐟ find/create a good study environment

having a cozy, comfortable, and nice place to get your studying done will make your sessions so much more enjoyable! you’ll feel more motivated to get work done in a space that you feel good in! so whether it be your own space, your favorite café, or even your school’s library, having a good environment to focus on your schoolwork will increase your productivity and make you feel good about studying!

a darling mutual of mine created this post that has helpful tips on creating your desired study space - @glowettee ♡︎ i also highly recommend her page for other tips related to studying, personal growth, & just becoming that girl!

ᝰ.ᐟ make use of a planner

planners are essential in maintaining organization throughout the semester/school year! whether it’s a digital or physical planner, find one that’s appealing to you! find a planner that suits your aesthetic, or your desired aesthetic, and make good use of it. it’ll help you keep track of what days & times you have a certain class, important due dates, and planning out your homework schedule!

if you have a pretty plain planner, decorate it! use fun or aesthetically pleasing stickers and use fun colored pens & highlighters; just make it super personable to you!

ᝰ.ᐟ organize, organize, organize

make sure any and all paperwork for all of your courses are organized! i personally love using accordion folders because they have tabs that you can label for each class or each week of a class! having some kind of organization method will keep you and your schoolwork in check!

how to maintain organization:

as your semester progresses, it gets pretty easy to let your organization slip through the cracks and turn into a mess.

create an organized binder to store older papers from your courses! this will be useful when midterms or finals come around and you need to look back at old worksheets, handouts, etc. you can have a big binder that’s divided by different tabs dedicated to each class you’re taking or you can get different binders for each class and organize that way!

throw out anything that no longer serves you! amongst all the papers, notes, packets, there’s bound to be things that you will no longer need. toss them out, shred them, just get rid of them! the more papers you have stocked up in folders or binders, the less room you’ll have to keep track of the real important stuff

track each week of the semester! keep that syllabus handy so you can keep track of what’s going on for each week in your classes. when you reach the point of midterms, a long weekend, or even a break (like spring break) find some time to look at the past weeks & the weeks ahead and reorganize and just reset your organization of papers, notes, etc.

ᝰ.ᐟ create a checklist for your assignments

as your classes pile up, so will your homework, and it starts to get overwhelming when you start thinking about everything you have to complete for the week. creating a checklist for what needs to get done will allow you to prioritize the most important assignments, help you practice time management, and also feel satisfaction as you check off each assignment!

this helped me immensely throughout the semester. majority of my classes were 8 week courses, so everything was pretty fast paced and due dates came up a lot sooner than i thought. whenever i made a checklist for everything i needed to do, it eased a lot of my stress because i allowed myself to break down each class and the corresponding assignments & it made me realize that i didn’t have too much to do (or at least i tricked my brain into thinking that)

i made my checklist literally through my notes app on my phone, and it was so satisfying to add the little green checkmark emoji after each assignment!

ᝰ.ᐟ don’t be afraid to ask questions

any time i struggled in a class and i was too afraid/embarrassed to ask a question, i ended up doing poorly in that class and it made studying and completing assignments so much more challenging for me. so don’t be afraid to ask questions! your teachers/professors/instructors are there to help you! they’re there to answer any and all questions you might have! asking questions also just helps you understand the material better and get any clarification you might need!

the more questions you ask, the better informed you are, and the more likely you’ll succeed!

ᝰ.ᐟ use school supplies you love

having those aesthetically pleasing school supplies actually gave me so much more motivation to get work done! using stuff that you’re excited to use during your semester will make doing schoolwork & studying so much more enjoyable for you!

ᝰ.ᐟ set the mood for your study sessions

listen to a good study playlist, light a candle, set up some cozy lighting, grab your favorite drink, and just set a good, calming mood for yourself while you study! i love having lofi play softly in the background while i’m studying, and since i do most of my studying at home, i make the lighting in my room nice and dim and get my desk lamp set up. i’ll also have a cup of coffee, tea, or water near by that i can sip on!

ᝰ.ᐟ take breaks

burn-out is extremely real and you’ll quickly feel it when you spend majority of your time studying and giving yourself way less time to rest and relax.

for longer study sessions, take 20 min. breaks after each hour! i remember taking an english course when i first started college and one of the books we were required to read was one on studying tips! (i really wish i remembered what it was called, i unfortunately misplaced it) one of the things i remembered from that book was the 20 minute rule. this time slot allows you an ample amount of time to rest your mind and take a break! you can rest your eyes, scroll through your phone, stand up/stretch and grab a snack, or just step away from your study area for 20 minutes!

set a timer! let’s say you wanna work on homework for an hour & a half, set a timer and just do all the work that you can within that time. once your timer goes off, stop doing what you’re doing and set another timer with the same amount of time to go do something you enjoy or get yourself to relax!

i can’t stress this enough: please take breaks. your mental/emotional well-being should always be your top priority! you can’t do your best in school if you, yourself, are not doing the best.

𝜗𝜚 final notes 𝜗𝜚

being that girl in school is only possible when you put your best foot forward. stay on top of your self care, keep yourself organized, and come up with a routine! a good routine will get you great results!

i wish you all a great start of your upcoming semester and i know that every single one of you will flourish during it too!

live and love, babe.

sincerely, juno ⭑.ᐟ

[innerfare]

Ace’s Type

Summary: A collection of random headcanons describing Ace's type

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Someone who knows what it's like to be a freak, to be cast out from society. (I'm imagining him with a girl from Skypiea with cute little wings, maybe even antennae, who was treated much like a mermaid and hunted for her unusual appearance and was maybe rescued by Ace; might need to write a fic about this.)

Due to a childhood crush on a certain barmaid, low-key has a thing for green-haired women. It isn’t essential, but if a woman has green hair, she possesses a unique ability to turn him into a blushing mess, which he finds annoying considering he so quickly grew accustomed to turning them into blushing messes. Will fight anyone who teases him about his green hair weakness as it’s actually something of a sensitive topic for him. (Even had the slightest crush on Zoro when he met the Straw Hats for the first time, wouldn't have initiated anything with the swordsman but wouldn't have turned him down, either.) 

The most important thing for Ace is freedom, would have to be with someone who values it just as highly as he does (not just for him, but for themselves, too). Could easily be a one girl kind of guy (trust issues, wants something constant, steady, and dependable) but doesn’t want to settle down with that person. Rather, wants that person to run around the world with him. If you want to stay home and wait for him to come back, fine, but he'd prefer you go with him.

Someone who has a way with words. He doesn’t, so he’d think of your ability to put words to thoughts and feelings he’s had his entire life as some form of magic. 

Someone who thinks he hung the moon. He won’t understand why you think that, but your starry-eyed devotion to him will awaken something in him. Someone who giggles at his dumb jokes, who stands in awe and says, “whoah, cool,” when he shows off a new move, who lights up when he enters the room. Someone who thinks it’s cute when he swoops in and steals food off their plate, who will playfully punch his arm, someone who laughs when he throws them over his shoulder. Someone with a youthful energy.

But the youthful energy can't veer into immaturity. He wants and needs someone wise beyond their years, maybe even an old soul, someone who counsels him against acting rashly without nagging him to stop taking risks entirely. Someone who understands he's a risk taker and has measured criticism of that rather than a complete opposition to it.

Someone who understands that he struggles with emotional vulnerability and will meet him where he is. Also, someone who applauds him when he does put himself out there, someone who will never judge him for his feelings or reject his attempts at connecting. Someone who has very high emotional intelligence. 

He secretly, desperately craves the softness he never got in his childhood. Being cradled as he sleeps, having his hair brushed off his forehead, having food prepared and served for him, someone fussing over his little scrapes and cuts, etcetera.

Sweet. Wants someone who smiles/lights up when they see him, who says please and thank you for every little thing. Someone with very good manners and a singsong voice like Makino. Someone tough enough to negotiate for and take up space aboard a pirate ship, but without being callous and cold. Someone soft and warm, who doesn’t let the ugliness of the world get under their skin and is optimistic about the future- not just their own future, but his future, too. 

Someone very observant. He has a lot of trauma and baggage that he never talks about, and he would fall head over heels for someone who can read between the lines. 

That being said, someone on the quieter side. Doesn’t want to be constantly asked if he’s okay, but wants someone who will notice he’s not and find a way to help him through it. 

Finally, someone who gets flustered when he flirts with them.��He takes great pride in his ability to make you blush. If you're the type with cheeks that flush pink, even better.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[aerkame]

Hi! I hope everything is okay in your life!

Please when you can, no pressure: could you do some platonic headcanons with Sun Wukong from Nezha Reborn? Thank you! ^^

Sorry this took a while to get to! I am feeling like getting back to writing and drawing again though, it used to help me feel better quite a bit and things are calming down in my life now. ❤️

As for NR Wukong? I decided to rewatch the movie again just in case. He's a complicated character, way more complicated than I realized. I'm planning to write for him more often too and that needs a lot of researching on my part. He's not exactly as he makes himself out to be sometimes (you can see who he really is around the scene when he reveals his identity, he drops the silly act and gets serious).

Sun Wukong in Nezha Reborn is very similar to his book counterpart if you pay close attention to his mannerisms and behavior. He's not a good person, but not the absolute worst either. He's a morally grey and cutthroat person who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty and he'll definitely say whatever is on his mind.

Wukong's a bit scary when you think about it. He ate another yaoguai, offered a piece of it to the guy who hired that assassin, he can move at speeds almost unseen, throw a dead dragon's body away by the whisker, and he's also a hitman... and yet, you two are somehow friends.

That being said... having a platonic relationship with him is going to be chill, overwhelming, or lively, maybe all three if you're unlucky.

It's not overwhelming for the reasons you might think it is, it's mainly because the dude needs to be in everyone's space. No seriously, when is he not close to someone that's in the same room with him? He'd be pretty clingy, probably hanging around (literally from the ceiling) near you if there's no one else around...he may or may not try to groom you if you have enough hair to do that as well. Just monkey business.

The Monkey King really lives up to his name and he acts like one too. Doing what he wants, going wherever he pleases...even if it's in your own home, he'll show up there eventually for whatever given reason, maybe he's just bored or maybe he's just trying to give you a good spook. What? He's a curious guy, he just wanted to see what his friend's place looks like. Don't ask how he knows where you live.

Oh did he ever mention he's bored and lonely? It's not good for a monkey to be alone for long, so you're gonna have to do for now! (lucky you)

Much like how he dresses, Wukong loves to show off what he has and places he goes. You've never been on a motorcycle before? Well say no more! Ol' Sun is going to show you around the place on his cool bike. It roars too! He's 100% going to make sure he's revving that thing as loud as he can just to scare you and get a reaction. Maybe scare a nearby stranger walking by too.

Probably pulls a few tricks on you here and there just cause. He may or may not have taken your favorite shirt and hid it somewhere up high in the pipes and returned it while you weren't looking just to mess with you.

At the end of the day though, he's not so bad to be around. Just try not to stir up any trouble with yaoguais or shady figures. The old king would rather not get himself involved with any affairs, but he cares, and he'll admit that if something happened to you it'd just be another scar over his heart. He's just so tired...

[mimiii-3]

Hii omg, I love saboteur sm it's been living in my mind rent-free. I keep rereading it and refreshing ur page to see if there are any updates lol 😭 anyway, icl I think Batsib would be the typa person to go as far as becoming another villain to have more attention from their family (no such thing as bad attention after all eme). Even more thrilling if they don't even try to conceal their identity. Like yeah it's that kid you lowkey forgot about that you're fighting now, I wonder how that'd feel for the Batfam

Thank you and good idea!

…

Saboteur: Cherry Bomb Pt.2

Yandere Platonic Batfam x GN Neglected Reader

Notes: platonic relationship between Harley and reader, villain behavior is more likely to show up in part 3

…

🦇 - your first meeting with Harley Quinn was questionable…to say the least

🦇 - you barely had time to think before she grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the alley

🦇 - she only laughed at your slew of questions like “where are we going” and “what’s wrong with you”

🦇 - you weren’t an idiot. You knew the implications of one of Batman’s own seen with Harley, a known ally of the Joker

🦇 - maybe that’s why you let her take you away. The thought that your father and brothers would find out you had sided with the enemy

🦇 - Harley’s back was turned to you as she skipped down the trash-ridden sidewalk

🦇 - you could knock her out right now. Present her to your father and receive his short but fulfilling praise

🦇 - you pondered your options before making your way next to Harley. You timed your footsteps to match her strides

🦇 - the urge to be petty outweighed the urge to make your father proud

🦇 - after what felt like forever, Harley brought you to a little hole-in-the-wall jazz bar in between a drug store and a massage parlor

🦇 - the place felt grimy. The wallpaper had started to yellow and the music was subpar (at best)

🦇 - you bite down the urge to flee and follow Harley down a dark flight of stairs

🦇 - the stairs lead to a bright, green door with a brass knob

🦇 - your eyes dance between the chipping paint on the door and the impressive bouncer that leans against it

🦇- listening to Harley’s rapport with the bouncer turns boring and your eyes shift to get a better look at him

🦇 - the bouncer is wearing a compression shirt that hugs his muscled-chest. The head of a snake tattoo rests against the side of his neck.

🦇 - you imagine that the body of the snake dips lower and likely wraps around the bouncer’s torso

🦇 - your thoughts are interrupted when Harley yanks you by your elbow into the velour-walled room

🦇 - as you enter the room, you swear that the bouncer spared you a passing glance

🦇 - he shuts the heavy door and you look around at the room

🦇 - almost everything in the room is covered in red, velour fabric. You can’t help but think that the room resembles a motel honeymoon suite

🦇 - as you silently judge the space, you spot a mess of red hair just over the rounded sofa facing the flat screen tv

🦇 - uh oh

…

Extra notes: I plan on making a part three to this just to flesh out batsib’s villain transformation

I wonder if the bouncer might have an integral part in this alternative storyline😉

Tag list:

@jjsmeowthie @shawty-a-lil-baddie @butratherbutrather @shirp-collector-of-fixations @stove-top96 @yaoizee @bellethesleepypotato @salfishers @eli-mayhaveatencats @00hellohello00

[bullet-prooflove]

Welcome Back: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Taggin: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @mckinleysbones @totalstitchlover19 @angelofthetrenchcoats

Companion piece to:

Box Breathing - Eddie's been struggling since Christopher left.

Always - You make a promise to Eddie.

Real - Eddie tells you he wants something real.

A Future With You - Eddie makes a realisation during a one on one game of basketball.

Cash - Eddie discovers your secret Instagram profile.

Snake - You receieve a surprise gift from your ex at Halloween.

Midnight - Eddie makes you a promise.

Cherry Lipstick - Eddie gets better insight into you during a social event.

The one person that isn’t at Eddie and Christopher’s ‘Welcome Back’ party is the one he wants to see the most.

“She’s on shift.” He’s told by Buck when he questions your whereabouts but there’s something else under the surface, something he knows the other man isn’t telling him.

The two of you haven’t had much contact since the night he broke things off, you’d reached out a couple of times to check in but Eddie’s responses had been monosyllabic. He didn’t want you waiting on him so he’d done what he thought was best at the time, withdraw so you could live your own life. Now he’s back in L.A and his attempts to reconnect have gone unanswered, he doesn’t blame you for that. He wouldn’t speak to him either.

“Did something happen that I don’t know about?” He asks Bobby when he runs into him in the kitchen. “Did something happen to her?”

“Eddie.” Bobby states calmly as he leans back against the counter. “Nothing happened to Selina, she’s fine.”

“Then why does it feel like everyone is walking on eggshells.” Eddie persists, pointing at the gathering of people in the other room. “Everytime I even mention her name, it’s like they want to talk about something else.”

Bobby sighs, gesturing to the chairs at the kitchen table. It’s a bad sign. He’s been on the receiving end of enough bad news to know when it’s coming.

“When you called me to tell me that you and Christopher were coming home, there wasn’t a space for you in the 118. We’d taken on Ravi a few months before because we were understaffed and that meant you would have had to come back to the LAFD on a floating position.” Bobby explains.

And that would have been a problem, they both know it. Floating staff can get dispatched to any firehouse at any time to cover a shift for any reason. They usually stay a couple of days before they move onto the next assignment. There’s no time to settle or get to know the people you’re working with, the shifts can be erratic due to sudden bouts of sickness. Most times you don’t even get a locker so you have to store your shit in your trunk. It’s a hard, thankless job, one he would have struggled with especially with Chris’s childcare.

“When Selina heard you were coming back she knew that you would struggle with the unpredictability of the role, that Chris would need both stability and routine so she offered to take the position instead, which then freed up a spot for you at the 118.”  

Eddie doesn’t know what to say. It’s just another sacrifice you’ve had to make because of him, another choice to smooth over the mess that is his life. You wanted him and Chris to be happy, to thrive back here in LA and the only way to do that was for them to become part of the 118 again, to have their family surrounding them, supporting them.

“Do you know where she’s on shift tonight?” He asks Bobby as he raises to his feet.

“I don’t.” Bobby says before he withdraws his phone from his back pocket and sets it on the kitchen table. “But I can find out.”

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[samkerrworshipper]

lap dance | alexia putellas x reader

the stripper r x post world champs alexia that everyone has been desperate for in my inbox, made for my horny girlies! wrote this instead of listening to my english lecture 😝 so enjoy the pure smut

warnings: strapons, smuts, cunnilingus, lap dances, stripping 18+ dni

You could feel the adrenaline and one shot of tequila you’d been given coursing through your body as you walked up towards the room you’d been assigned. The dressing gown that was covering your body very quickly started to feel a little bit too thin. You passed a lot of women, some still in their playing uniforms which told you they were players, some were similarly dressed to you, some were workers and security. Nobody paid much attention to you, why would they, you were background noise to them, not a person that was made to be looked at, or not at least like that. You let your heeled feet waltz down the hallway, trying to strum up as much confidence as you could, trying to lift your head from the floor so you looked like you were supposed to be here.

You peered up at the numbers across the doors in the hallway, watching as they slowly ticked closer to the one that was written on the piece of paper in your hands. When you finally did make it to the door you took a deep laboured breath, this shouldn’t have been stressing you out, it was your job, you did this for a living, but for some reason tonight it felt different, like there was more pressure on you. You’d trembled when you’d read the name of the woman you were to see, her reputation preceded her and you couldn’t help but feel a little bit intimidated by the thought of being in a room on your own with her. You mustered up the courage to bring your hand up to the door, knocking on it three times before taking a step back, waiting patiently for it to be opened up.

It didn’t take very long, a few seconds at most before you heard the lock unclick and the door swing open. The woman met you in the doorway, wearing her playing jersey, playing shorts and her medal slung around her neck. Her mostly washed out pink hair was a mess around her shoulders, unkempt, like she’d just climbed out of bed, which you supposed she probably could have. It was nearing 4am now and it wasn’t unlikely that between the partying and celebrations she’d tried to get a wink in, you didn’t really believe so, more just blamed in on the fact she’d just played a full game of soccer and probably partied her heart out, the celebrations were still taking place downstairs, the steady sound of music coursing through the hotel carpet.

“Do you plan to stand in my doorway all night?”

Her voice was hoarse, probably from the alcohol and partying, it added a different level of sexuality to her voice, deepening it, making it rougher.

“Sorry.”

You gulped, your voice sounded so meek in comparison to hers, normally you were cocky, confident but she had an effect on you, made you second guess every single thing that you were feeling or thinking.

“Don’t be sorry, are you coming in or not?”

Her lip curled up into a sardonic smile, her head tilting at me from her spot leaning against the door, her mouth hanging open and sinful thoughts plaguing my mind of just how much that mouth could do.

“Yes, sorry.”

You tucked your head back down towards the floor, letting her open the door further to you and you taking some very tentative steps into the space. She clicked the door again behind you, the click sending a jolt of shocks across your body, the sudden realisation that you were alone with the woman in her hotel room starting to set in.

She walked out in front of you, swishing her way past your body over into the corner, where a lone armchair sat. She sat down, her legs settling in a manspread and her elbows falling down onto them, her eyes falling onto you. You could feel her gaze, and suddenly you felt so self conscious, something you’d never experienced before, your job was to strut around half naked, self consciousness was something that you’d lost over the years, but now it was all you could feel.

“Why don’t you show me what you’ve got on underneath that robe?”

Her voice was thicker, still coarse and almost grainy but less so, like she was trying to emit her dominance in the situation.

You pulled at the tie at your waist, you’d made the decision to pick a red set, spanish colours. You shrugged the robe off of your shoulders, letting the silk pool at your feet. You’d never felt so insecure in your own skin, allowing your eyes to lift up to the older woman’s. She wore a rather tantalising smirk, her pearly teeth showing to you. You bit down on your lip, nibbling on it slightly as you waited for her to say something, normally you’d initiate, or you’d start something but something about this felt so different, so much more personal than you knew it truly was.

“Come here.”

Her voice was commanding, so much so that you couldn’t help but propel yourself forward towards the woman, only stopping when you were a few centimetres away from your own legs knocking against her knees. Her hand reached up to you, coming into contact with your knee and rubbing your milky skin softly with her olive palm.

“What’s your name?”

Her eyes were curious, they betrayed everything else she was portraying to you.

“Y/n.”

She smirked at you a little bit, nodding as she continued to roll your skin through her hands, like you were putty in her hands.

“I’m Alexia, although you probably already know that. How old are you, y/n?”

Your name rolled off of her tongue so perfectly, her spanish accent mixing with the coarseness of her tone sent your mind to places that you could never explain.

“19.”

There was only a ten year age difference between you and yet she felt so much older, so much more experienced, so much more accomplished than you ever would be.

“So young, how long have you been in the business?”

You gulped, Alexia seemed so genuinely interested in you, it was weird, you’d never had a client take any particular interest in you.

“17.”

It wasn’t an age you were proud of, and normally you wouldn’t openly admit that to client, but something about Alexia made you feel like you had to be honest with her.

Her hand kept at your leg, rubbing it ever so gently.

“You want to be here?”

You nodded at Alexia, absolutely no hesitation in your mind.

“Okay then sweet, why don’t you do a dance for me.”

Her voice was so calm, like she was talking about her breakfast. Her hand released from your leg, pushing you a few centimetres away from her, allowing you the room to make up your mind. One of her eyebrows rose, a small chuckle leaving her lips as her eyes raked over your body for the first time, admiring the red lingerie that accentuated your body perfectly. The pieces that you’d picked hugged your curves perfectly, you looked like a goddess. She let out a drawn out exhale, which was enough to give you some confidence, enough to perk you up a little bit.

Alexia waved you over to her lap, walking forwards so you were standing inbetween her legs, looking down at her.

“So pretty.”

Her words were murmured, a chesty whisper that was meant for only you.

“Turn around.”

You obeyed her, swivelling on your heels so you were facing nothing but wall. She quickly grabbed your hips, pulling you down directly so you were sitting on her lap. You gasped slightly at the sudden contact, it was nothing you weren’t used to, hell some clients threw you around like you were a ragdoll, but it surprised you all the same even though you knew it was coming.

“I know calm, bebita, calm.”

Her words were cooed directly into your ear, her hot breath brushing against the hairs on your neck. She gently wrapped her arm around your waist, running her hands from your knees to your hips at an agonisingly slow pace, you unconsciously opened up your legs on her lap, completely opening yourself up for her.

“Sorry, ma’am.”

My words were soft, a whisper, she grunted in response, her hot breath continuing to brush against your neck. You took a quick breath to relax yourself before leaning down against Alexia, pressing your ass down against her lap, beginning to grind up and down on her. Alexia, involuntarily, bucks her hips up into you almost immediately, and you smile at your achievement. Her hands begin to guide you, up and down her body as you grind down onto her, slowly finding your rhythm and rocking back and forth on her body. This is something you know you are good at, something that you know how to do.

Eventually you build up the confidence to reach down to your side, pulling Alexia’s hand from your hip and bringing it up to your breast, letting her hand graze over the silk and lace. Alexia palmed her hand over your tit, her hand almost big enough to hold it in one hand. You leant back into her, letting her hand explore the material and skin, her fingers pressing down, squeezing your breast, she huffs into your ear, clearly affected by your motions. It was normal, you witnessed it at work all the time clients getting hot and bothered, however, this wasn’t just any client, this was Alexia Putellas, world champion, the very woman you gushed over when she appeared on your tv, the same woman who was now panting in your ear.

You feel some worry wash over you as you continue to dance on her lap, using your heels to help you grind down harshly against her bare legs. You shouldn’t be getting wet over a client. Was she a client? Is she paying for you, or is the Spanish team paying for you? A million thoughts were running across your mind, so many unprofessional thoughts. You didn’t allow yourself to engage in sexual acts with a client, just a dance, so this must have been more than that. You were thinking so hard, your brain in another dimension that you didn’t even realise Alexia’s hand running down over your clothed heat. The only thing that managed to snap you out of your trance was when Alexia’s palm rubbed down against your covered clit.

“So wet bebita, all for me?”

Her voice was teasing, gentle but cheeky, like she was trying to edge some kind of fire out of you, some kind of passion, and it worked. You lived for this kind of attention, this kind of adrenaline. You swivelled around quickly, diving into her lips. Her tongue quickly pushed to your lips, requesting entry that you very quickly granted. She grabbed your hips, lifting them up so your legs were placed on either side of her hips, so you were straddling her waist. The only sound in the room was the sound of you and Alexia’s mouths against each other, her lips very quickly asserting dominance in the kiss, her hand finding its way to your chin and gripping it brutally.

She tasted like tequila and champagne, a combination that was welcome to your tongue. Your mouths matched each other perfectly, working against each other in synchronisation. Your hand fell to the hem of Alexia’s jersey, tugging at it. She seemed to get the memo, reaching down to meet your hand at the hem and tugging it quickly over her head, only breaking your kiss for a split second to throw the jersey somewhere across the room. You continued grinding down against her hips as her lips continued their assault on yours.

Eventually, when Alexia’s actions really begin to get to you, you slid yourself off of her hips, ungracefully landing on the floor between her legs and beginning to press a series of kisses to her torso, her abs rock hard under your lips, a perfect contrast to the her soft lips. Her breath hitched when your mouth connected with her clothed mound, making you smile up at her with hooded eyes, your eyelashes fluttering up at her innocently. Her pupils were completely blown, her hazel eyes meeting your own from your spot on the floor.

You ever so carefully hooked your fingers in the band of her shorts, tugging them down her muscular thighs and calves, leaving her glistening, beautiful sex right in front of your face. Her breathing quickens almost immediately the second your lips make contact with her heat, your soft pillowy lips pressing down gently on her clit in a quick peck. She moaned almost immediately, her back arching against the armchair as you let your head dip lower, your tongue darting out of your mouth and sliding perfectly through her wetness, you leave open mouth kisses all over her thighs and pussy. You lick a thick stripe up and down with your tongue, revelling in the way that she moaned deeply at your ministrations. You begin to suck on her clit, leading her to take your hair in her hands, tugging you up further into her pool of heat. You continue to suck shamelessly on her clit, enjoying the amount of pleasure that she was getting from your throat and the amount of pleasure you were getting from her hand being entangled in your hair.

She begins to get frantic with her thrusts against your face, and as soon as you begin to bite on her clit it was clear that she was teetering on the edge, her legs shaking wildly on either side of your head and her thighs tightening around your head as she began to hump your head, grinding down against your lips furiously chasing her own release. You moved down, pushing your tongue into her pussy and it was apparently enough to send Alexia over the edge, her legs spasming and her cunt convulsing around your tongue, illicit moans and dirty words flowing freely from her mouth as you kissed her cunt gently and licked up the cum leaking from her hole as the aftershocks ran rampant through her body.

As her body began to still she pulled you up off the carpet by your hair, reaching out for your waist and bringing you to come and sit down on her lap. She pulled you into a gentle kiss, her lips moving gently against yours and absorbing the taste of her on your tongue. Alexia pulled at your bra, reaching around to the back of the red lace and unclicking the clasp, helping you to pull the straps over your shoulders and then fling the bra somewhere onto the hotel room floor, joining Alexia’s shorts and your robe. Alexia’s hands immediately went to your breasts, rolling the flesh in her hands and groaning at the feeling of your pebbled nipples in her hands. Every touch from her hands set you on fire, a wave of incredible shocks that went straight to the wet patch between your legs.

Alexia’s kiss slowly got more heated, her energy rejuvenated and apparently her sexual desire heightening again. One of her hands travelled down to the band of your panties, snapping it against your hips, Alexia clearly finding joy in the moan of mixed pain and pleasure that you enjoyed so much. She smirked against your lips, her practised fingers dancing across your skin drawing intricate patterns over the surface.

You moaned easily into her mouth, the feeling of her hands pinching and prodding at your skin being absolutely delightful. It lit a passion inside of you, a fire that couldn’t be put out, not until Alexia was finally touching the parts of you that needed her the most.

“Please.”

Your words were muffled by her lips, but she understood them, understood exactly what you needed, she still wanted to tease you though, still wanted to work you up.

“What do you want bebita? What do you want from me?”

You moaned again into her mouth, your hips rocking against her lap and your body leaning into wherever her hand would lay itself, chasing her, chasing anything she would give you.

“Fuck, ma’am, fuck me please.”

Alexia smirked against your lips, detaching them and reaching down to your neck, latching them onto your soft skin and beginning to suck and bite at the sensitive spots that littered your neck.

“Such good manners I think I can do that for you, get up on the bed for me niña bonita, on your back, panties off.”

Your whole body shook with her words, you immediately leapt off of her lap, jumping straight onto the bed as to not disobey her, flipping yourself over so your head was resting on the pillows and your legs were laying open for her, you quickly pulled your panties off, slipping them out from under your ass and down your legs, readying yourself for her as she’d asked.

Alexia stumbled around the foot of the bed, picking up something from her suitcase, you very quickly discovered that something was a strap on, one with a rather large clear dildo attached to it. Alexia very quickly pulled the strap on, adjusting the harness quickly so it was fastened to her hips before jumping up beside you on the bed.

She leant over the top of you, her face mere centimetres away from your face as she smirked down at you, her tongue poking out from the corner of her mouth. With a split second her lips were no longer hanging above your own, instead pressed to your wetness. It was pure ecstasy, enough to throw you over the edge immediately. Alexia was gentle, clearly working you up to what was lying between her legs.

You were a soaking mess, your back arching against the sheets and sinful moans flowing like a waterfall from your mouth. Alexia slowly began to work a knuckle into you, when she found no resistance she began to pump the finger in and out, gently working in it and out of your wetness.

“Alexia, please, fuck, more.”

Alexia obliged your request, beginning to work a second one in, again finding no resistance and beginning to piston the fingers in and out of your hole, curling them gently upwards. She was pushing you, edging you up, but you knew that this wasn’t the main event, this wasn’t what she was building up to. So you let her work you up, moans and curses cascading from your lips as Alexia’s fingers put you in a near drugged up state, pure pleasure fueling your body. She pushed you until you were a stuttering mess, before removing her fingers completely.

She moved up your body, coming up to meet you in a tantalising kiss, her lips were a dream, the mix of alcohol and pleasure on her tongue something so inexplicably perfect that you were sure it had to be a imagination.

Alexia’s mouth was perfection, sliding against yours in complete rhythm.

“Do you want me to fuck you bebita, pound you into the mattress?”

You moaned shamelessly into her mouth, nodding your head quickly, you pleasured haze not being enough to stop you from telling Alexia just how much you wanted that.

“Please, fuck, Alexia, please fuck me.”

Alexia once again smirked sardonically against your lips, the corners of her mouth tilting upwards.

You felt the silicone rubbing against your folds, gently caressing the wetness before locating your hole, Alexia pushing just the tip in, leaving you desperate for more. You whined at her, making your displeasure at her teasing evident.

“C’mon bebita, use your words, ask me for the rest.”

You felt a furious blush rising on your cheeks, you pushing your head into your shoulder as you suddenly felt very shy from the words of the footballer.

“No hiding from me, tell me what you want, and I’ll give you it.”

Alexia reached down to your face, pushing it out of your shoulder so you were face to face with her, hazel eyes bearing down on you.

“Please fuck me, please fill me up.”

Alexia obeyed your request immediately, thrusting her cock into you fully. You moaned at the stretch, Alexia stilling her movements to let you adjust to the sudden, but very welcome intrusion. As soon as you nodded at her she began moving, starting with slow and deep strokes, you mindlessly pushing your hips against hers to meet her at every single thrust, it’s magical, indescribable pleasure. Alexia’s hands come up to your breasts and her mouth once again finds your neck, attacking it brutally and leaving marks and bites all over it. You can feel yourself beginning to come undone, and it is then that you realise Alexia’s medal is still dangling from her neck, the gold piece of metal swaying back and forth between her breasts as she quickens her thrusts, beginning to pound in and out of you. It’s a beautiful sight, something no artist could capture.

Your legs begin to tremble, a clear sign that you are nearing your high and just as you are about to tell Alexia you are going to cum, she removes contact from you completely, leaving you vulnerable and wanting on the mattress.

“Alexia.”

You whine at her, your pussy clenching around air, instead of Alexia’s cock that a few mere seconds ago had been filling you to the brim.

She circled your hole with her tip, teasing, you’re grateful for the contact but also so desperate for more.

“Beg for me amor.”

This time you felt no shame asking for what you wanted, felt no shame telling Alexia that.

“Please Alexia, put it back in, please give me your cock, I’ve been good for you haven’t I? Fuck me, please? Please make me cum, I’m trying so hard to be good for you, I’ll be so good, please.”

Your words seemed to be enough for Alexia, the woman began to wildly thrust into you, her hands and lips restarting their previous movements up again, this time with more edge, more urgency. This time when you found yourself on the edge Alexia didn’t retract her movements, instead wheyour legs began to tremble she began to fasten her movements. She fucked you like she knew every part of your body, like she knew you like the back of her own palm.

“Alexia, fuck, fuck, going to cum, please let me cum.”

She nodded at you and that was enough permission for you, enough fuel to send you plummeting over the edge into an exquisite orgasm, like you’d never experienced. You saw stars, your vision going pitch black as the pure pleasure coursed all the way through your bones and body, sending shocks and unmeasurable amounts of pleasure that Alexia had given you.

Alexia slowed her movements, although did not cease her thrusts completely, slowly bringing you down from your high. As soon as the big wave faded you regained your vision and enough of your sense to feel just how overstimulated you were. You mewled at Alexia, pushing her away from you and she slowly but surely withdrew, collapsing beside you on the bed and pulling your head into her chest as you came down from your high.

She placed gentle kisses on your forehead and jawbone, watching lovingly as you slowly came back to earth, slowly beginning to regain more energy. You gazed up at her, a post orgasm dazed bliss being the only thing displayed on your face. You looked at Alexia, realising she had now removed her explicit appendage and was lying beside you on the bed, bare beside the medal that she still had hanging around her throat.

Everything about how she was treating you was so intimate, so gentle, so unlike anything you ever experienced with your other clients. To most of the people you serviced you were just another body, just another sex toy to be hired out and paid, you gave people a show, serviced them and then they left. None of them were this gentle, this wrapped up in your own contentment.

“How are you feeling?”

Alexia’s words were soft, a lot softer in contrast to the words that she’d been moaning at you a few minutes ago.

“Sore, but good, how about you?”

Your voice was just as hoarse as Alexia’s now, lost from your moans and screams.

“Not too sore?”

There was the underlying theme of worry in Alexia’s voice, something you were so unused to.

“No, I’ll be okay.”

Alexia nodded, leaning down again to press another kiss to your forehead.

“I should probably leave, I don’t want to be a bother.”

It was the truth, you didn’t want to distract Alexia from her victory or make her feel like she had to care for you. Just as you were about to remove yourself from her arms she stopped you, pulling you back down to her chest tightly.

“Nonsense, unless you want to leave you are very welcome, I want to make sure that you are okay, that was a little rough and it would be understandable if you were feeling a little bit spacey.”

You bit you lip, this was so irregular, you were a stripper, a sex worker, you weren’t supposed to have this kind of niceness, weren’t supposed to be granted these kinds of kindness.

“It’s my job, I feel fine, I can go for round two if you want.”

There was a little bit too much bite to your tone, enough for Alexia to tighten her grip on you.

“I know I don’t know you, but regardless of whether or not this is your job it’s okay for you to feel sore or like you want to take a breather, I’d never make you do anything you didn’t want to.”

Alexia was being so tender underneath the dimly lit lamplight.

“I feel good, I promise, I don’t think I’ve ever cum harder in my life, and I’d love to do it again, in the shower?”

Alexia smirked at you, chuckling at your admission.

“That is definitely something I won’t object to, but first, let’s just take a breather, I know you say you're fine but just let your elder have a moment to breathe.”

Conversation between you and Alexia flowed so freely, like you’d known each other for years, like you weren’t two bedmates that would most likely never see each other again after tonight.

“Okay grandma, take your time, I’ll just go get myself off with the shower head.”

You jumped off of the bed, running towards the ensuite and not missing the sound of Alexia’s feet pattering after you, chasing you into the bathroom, raring to go again, something that you were less than objectionable to.

[goldsainz]

# RAFE CAMERON — IT'S OKAY, I'M OKAY !

MASTERLIST !

REQUEST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ you move away after breaking up with rafe, but when you see him again, all the memories surface back up.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ talks about drugs (being high), toxic relationship, angst.

003. NOTE !

✯ not my best work, but i really wanna post more rafe stuff, besides high infidelity. so i hope you all like this, and don’t forget to like and comment/reblog 🫶 also back to back tate mcrae inspired fics????

word count : 1,5k

You hadn't been back to the Outer Banks in months. The last time you were here, everything felt different. You felt different. The sun on your skin, the salt in the air. But that was before. Before everything went to hell.

It had been months since you left. Months since you packed up your life,, no goodbyes, no explanations. You just... left. Left him behind. Rafe Cameron. Your high school sweetheart. The guy you swore you'd grow old with. The one who somehow turned into a complete stranger.

The breakup had been a mess—dragged on for weeks, filled with drunken arguments, silence that was more suffocating than anything. Rafe, the guy who used to make you feel like the most important person in the world, became this distant shell of himself. Lost in his own head, his own haze. He was high all the time, and his addiction turned him into someone you didn’t recognize. You tried. You tried to hold onto the love you thought was still there, but you couldn’t. It was too much. His unpredictability, the way he treated you—his behaviour hurt, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

So, you left. You packed your things, boarded a plane, and moved across the country. You thought that maybe distance would give you the space to heal, that time would make it easier. But no matter where you went, you couldn’t shake the part of you that was still back here, still stuck in the Outer Banks with him.

You hadn’t planned on coming back—not anytime soon anyway. But when you got the invite for the Midsummer party, something about it made you weak. Maybe it was the pull of the memories, the urge to close that chapter. You told yourself it was for closure. To see old friends, check in on your family, maybe get some peace of mind. You told yourself you could handle it. You told yourself you were okay.

But the second you stepped onto these familiar streets, everything shifted. The air felt the same, the ocean crashing in the distance sounded the same, the people—the ones you used to know—were still here. But something was off. Something was different. And it was him.

You didn’t expect to see him tonight. Not like this. Not with her.

You saw Rafe the second you walked into the bar, sitting at the corner with Sofia. His arm was wrapped around her waist, her laugh filling the air. It was a laugh you used to know, sweet and carefree. Now, it felt like a knife twisting in your chest. You’d always known Sofia had a thing for Rafe. Who didn’t? He was Rafe Cameron—the golden boy, the charming disaster everyone wanted a piece of. But seeing them together, seeing him with her, hit harder than you thought it would.

The memories flooded back, quicker than you could stop them. Late nights falling asleep in his arms on the beach, his head on your chest as he whispered how much he loved you. Days spent walking down the pier with his arm around you, everything feeling like it was supposed to be that way, forever.

And then the bad came rushing in—those nights when he'd come home late, smelling of smoke and alcohol, the arguments that always ended with him promising to change, to be better. But he never did. You remember the nights spent crying, wondering if you were enough, if he even cared about you anymore.

You try to shake it off, to stop the thoughts from overwhelming you. But they don’t stop. They never stop.

Before you can turn to leave, though, Rafe’s eyes catch yours from across the room. His gaze locks onto you like he’s seen a ghost, pulling you in, and for a moment, everything stops. The noise in the bar fades, and it’s just you and him. His expression shifts—confusion, surprise, and maybe something else, but it’s hard to tell. You don’t know how to read him anymore.

You should leave. You need to leave. But before you can make an escape, Sofia looks over too, following Rafe’s gaze. She smiles, polite but cold. It’s the kind of smile that says, I see you, but you're not a threat. You feel the sting of it.

And then you feel Rafe. He's standing behind you now, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body. You want to scream, to punch him in the face, to ask him why he couldn’t just be better. But instead, you swallow all the anger, all the frustration. You can’t stay here. You can’t. The past is too much, the memories are suffocating, and you can already feel your heart breaking again just by being near him.

I need to leave. I have to get out of here before I lose myself again.

It’s a lie. You don’t want to leave. You don’t need to leave. But you know that if you stay, something inside you might crack, something you won’t be able to piece together again. And you’re done with that.

Rafe steps in front of you before you can move, his body too close, blocking your path. His eyes soften, just for a second, but that old coldness creeps back in fast. He doesn’t speak at first, just stands there, like he’s trying to figure out how to fix everything that’s broken. But you know better now.

“Why are you leaving so soon?” His voice is softer than you expected, like he’s genuinely trying to pull you back, keep you here, keep whatever this is from slipping away.

You feel the weight of his words, but you won’t let them drag you down. You cross your arms over your chest, trying to keep your cool, but your heart’s racing. Every part of you wants to scream at him for all the shit he put you through. But you don’t.

“You don’t get to ask that,” you reply, your voice tight. “Not after everything.”

Rafe’s face shifts—confusion, regret, maybe even a flicker of guilt. But it’s gone before you can even process it. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore. You’ve lived without him for months now. It’s been hard, but better. It’s better.

His hand moves like he's going to touch you, like he's trying to reach you again. But the moment it gets too close, you flinch, pulling away. His hand hovers for a second, then drops, and you can feel the sting of that lost connection. But you don’t let him see it. You can’t.

“We were good together, YN,” he says quietly, his voice almost desperate. “We had something real.”

“No,” you snap, shaking your head. “You were high. You were always high, and you were toxic. I had to leave. You—you changed.”

His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t argue. He stands there, looking at you, like he’s trying to figure out the right thing to say, the right way to fix it. And you just stand there, feeling the weight of all the lost time, all the broken promises, and you know you can’t go back.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally. His voice is low, the words sounding... real, maybe. “I’ve been trying to change. I’ve been... trying to fix things.”

But you’ve heard it all before. The promises, the apologies. They’re just words. And you’re not falling for them again.

“It’s okay. Be with her. She’s perfect for you.” you whisper, your voice shaking. You don’t want him to see how much it still hurts. You don’t want him to see the part of you that still cares.

Rafe’s face falls, like you slapped him. But you don’t care anymore. You’ve had enough. You turn to leave, but before you can, he grabs your wrist. His grip is tight, like he’s scared of losing you for good. You don’t fight him. You don’t even want to.

His touch burns like fire, but you take a deep breath and pull away.

“Don’t leave like this,” he pleads, his voice raw.

You look at him—really look at him—and you feel everything you’ve lost. The love, the hurt, the broken promises. And then, with all the strength you can muster, you say the words that are finally going to set you free.

“You don’t get to make me stay, Rafe.”You rip your wrist from his grip and walk away, not looking back. Not even when you hear him call your name. Not even when you hear the pain in his voice. Because no matter how much it hurts, no matter how many times you tell yourself you’re okay, you know one thing for sure—it will never be okay.