#lgbtqia fanfiction

[mostly-funnytwittertweets]

[non-binary-star-system]

Please remember that there are aro/aces who enjoy concept of romance only in fiction and like shipping characters or writing smut fanfics but still they wouldn't do that things in real life 🤍🖤💜

[here-am-i-sitting-in-a-tin-can]

being a marauders fan is a red flag.

it’s also an orange flag.

and a yellow flag. and a green, a blue and a purple one.

you’re gay.

[ihhfhonao3]

You know that smut you like? Y’know, the really, REALLY good one? You know that one? Yeah?

An asexual wrote that.

And that really good romantic fluff you like? The really cute one, the domestic fluff? Y’know that one?

An aromantic wrote that.

So before you go to sleep reading fanfiction tonight, be sure to thank all the asexuals and aromantics that are writing your favorite fics!

Because no, we are not the pure little children you think we are.

Everybody say thank you a-specs!

Thank you a-specs!

Alright, I’ll let you go now :3

[ohbueckers]

YOUR SECRETS ARE SAFE WITH ME. she a good girl, for me she a slut.

ONE-SHOT! pairing, paige bueckers x reader. notes, march madness p has been heavy on my mind, like the EDITS and when this song was trending mmm so mayyybe you can expect some stuff. this is also her song idc idc. warnings, cheating, sexual content 〔 absolute filth i’m sorry. 〕

your heart stutters. you’re not ready for this. not with her eyes on you like they’ve always been—hungry and knowing. but there really is no avoiding it now. you’ve put it off for too long.

he’s already pushing himself off the bar, motioning for you to follow. you catch sight of paige from the corner of your eye—leaning against the far wall, her broad, all worked-out shoulders relaxed, fingers tapping against the neck of a half-empty beer bottle. she’s surrounded by her teammates, some friends, but it’s like none of them exist in her orbit.

she sees him before she sees you walking toward her, but once your boyfriend’s hand finds its place on the small of your back, her eyes lock on yours, and you could’ve sworn they flared darker. she looks like she’s been waiting all night, lips curling into that slow, lazy smirk—the one that knows exactly what you’re trying so hard to forget.

shit. you swallow thickly, feeling the heat crawl up your neck. you’re steps away now, too late to back out.

“yo, bueckers!” your boyfriend calls out as you approach, his hand squeezing your hip like a casual claim. he’s smiling like there’s nothing in the world wrong, like this is just a chance meeting with one of uconn’s basketball stars, particularly onehis girlfriend has been spending so much time with. he doesn’t know. he doesn’t have a clue.

he’s pure. too pure, and too fucking oblivious.

“what’s up?” her voice is calm, and you hear the smile in them as you avoid her gaze. she sounds way too happy. when you look up, you see it. it’s the same look she gave you hours ago, right before her hands had your legs shaking.

you try to stay steady, plastering a neutral smile on your face. “this is, uh… this is paige.” you clear your throat, hating how awkward you sound, but you can feel her sizing you up. “paige, this is, um—”

“nylan,” your boyfriend cuts in, extending his hand, all confidence. paige stares at it for a second, like she’s deciding whether or not to play nice, before finally gripping his hand. her grip is firm, controlled, but the look in her eyes tells a whole different story. azzi and kayla wave at you, and you wave back, silently wishing by the grace of God they’d come interrupt this conversation.

“the paige bueckers,” he laughs, pulling his hand back. “she’s always talking about how great you are, but i was starting to think she was hiding you or something.”

paige’s eyes move to yours, then back to him. “she says i’m great?” she leans forward just slightly, the corner of her mouth twitching. “that’s funny. she’s never mentioned you.”

your stomach drops at the lie, a cold sweat breaking across your skin as you throw her a sharp look, willing her to shut up. but paige just shrugs, like she’s enjoying watching you squirm. you’re glad nylan’s too pressed into the moment to notice.

“how’d y’all meet?” he asks, taking a sip of his drink, curiosity growing. “i mean, you never really told me,” he mumbles to you more than anyone else.

paige shifts her weight, tongue swiping across her bottom lip before she starts speaking. “we met at a party last semester.” she pauses, letting the words sink in as her eyes shift to you. again. “she was a good girl back then, real sweet.” you feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff.

your boyfriend laughs, slinging a tipsy arm around your neck.“yeah, she’s always been a good girl.”

paige’s crosses her arms over her chest, eyes boring into you, and it’s like they’re trying to make sure you haven’t forgotten. how could you?

earlier that evening …

the room is warm, and your initial visit to past some time before seeing your boyfriend had turned absolutely filthy. the scent of her sweat mixing with yours, your legs tangled in the sheets. paige’s fingers press into your stomach as she thrusts into you, lips pressed against your neck, her breath hot and heavy against your skin.

you were trying to keep quiet, but it was worth nothing. paige didn’t care. she was relentless, her hips grinding into yours, her hand sliding between your legs to rub circles over your swollen clit in order to get you off quicker. for the third time. the pleasure was too much, too intense, and you couldn’t help the moans that escaped you as she filled you over and over.

“fuck—paige—” you whimpered, gripping her biceps, manicured nails leaving crescent shaped indents in her skin. you try to push her away, hands pressing weakly at her chest, but paige isn’t having it. she furrows her eyebrows, lifting her body to hover over you as her grip tightens, keeping you pinned right where she wants.

“i can—t.” you try to remind her you’ve got somewhere to be—nylan waiting for you in just a couple of hours—but it’s useless. paige knows you. knows exactly what your body craves and how you can’t resist her, even when you want to. especially when you want to.

“sure you can,” she replies, easily able to make out your words. she thrusts into you again, deep and slow, and you catch sight of the veins in her hands—the way they bulge under her skin, tensed with the effort of holding you still. she’s holding one leg up now, hitting you at an angle. “i’m right there, ain’t i, baby? give me one more.”

your back arches off the bed as you nod, even when your body’s screaming that you can’t, a choked cry slipping from your lips before you can stop it, and paige’s lips curl into a smirk, her eyes dark as she watches you fall apart.

it’s too much—you’re so close, and she’s not letting up, not giving you a moment to breathe. “such a slut. take that shit.” she’s biting down on her bottom lip, eyebrows knitted together as she takes in the wetness between your legs. she swears she can feel you, past the vibrations coursing through her on her end.

you’re mumbling something, but you can’t even remember what it is—your mind’s too scattered, too fucked out to form any coherent thoughts. her thumb brushes over your bottom lip, almost teasingly, before slipping two fingers into your mouth. “suck,” she orders, and you do. without thinking, you’re sucking on her fingers like it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. and even if you were thinking, you’d obey anyway. you’re sure you’d do anything she said, because before you met paige, you’d never once questioned your sexuality. never thought twice about how a girl could make you feel.

but paige? paige has made you feel things you’ve never felt with a man in your whole twenty-two years of life. nobody could fuck you this good. you’d said it before and you’d say it again.

she chuckles low, clearly satisfied, hips still moving against you. “my good girl. go ‘head and gimmie that,” she orders, clearly referring to your orgasm.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” before you know it, you’re coming hard—too hard—your entire body shaking. her blonde hair forms a curtain around her face, falling gracefully over her shoulders as she’s right there with you, quieter, but feeling it just as intensely.

you’re biting down on her fingers, moaning around them, as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you. paige pulls her fingers from your mouth, slipping them to your jaw, forcing you to look at her. “fuck, y’look so good like this,” she breathes, breathless, moving her digits between your legs to collect some of your slick, bringing it to her lips for a taste. “messy as hell.”

she finally collapses next to you, the bed shifting under her weight. you’re still catching your breath, chest heaving as you stare up at the ceiling, trying to ground yourself. after a moment, you roll your head to look at her. “p,” you start, your voice soft, a bit raspy. “if you meet him later… you can’t…” you trail off. “—tell him.”

paige lets out a chuckle, her head lolling to the side as she grins at you, like the thought had never crossed her mind. “you think i’m stupid?” she teases.

your eyes trail over her, letting out a small, relieved breath, your lips twitching into a smirk as she reaches out, gently brushing some of your disheveled hair out of your face. her touch is almost tender, a definite contrast to how she’d just wrecked you.

she leans in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear as she murmurs, “i won’t tell, baby. y’secret safe with me.”

at the bar …

she’d kept her promise, precisely.

nylan presses a kiss to your temple, but you don’t feel the lingering wetness of it like you normally do. not when every inch of your skin still burns with the memory of paige’s touch.

paige stands there, staring at you with a smirk, still leaning against the wall like she’s done absolutely nothing wrong.

and maybe she hasn’t. because after all, she’s the only one who knows just how good you can be. not to mention how well you both can keep a secret, too.

[musicofthenightphantomoftheopera]

URGENT UPDATE ON KOSA

Guys, this is getting really scary now. According to Senator Blumenthal they "rewrote the bill' (they didn't change anything actually) and the bill now has bipartisan (both democrat and republican support) with 62 co-sponsors now and could hit the senate as early as next week.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, KOSA (the Kids Online Safety Act) Is a strait up fascist mass internet censorship and serveillance bill that if passed, will force you to upload your government ID online in order to verify your age and give not only the government to track everything you do on the internet, but also the pwer to censor and erase anything or anyone they deem a threat to their power all by using the vague wording of the bill to deem it "a danger to kids"

both of the co writers of the bill, Senator Blumenthal, and Senator marsha Blackburn have fully admitted that they will be using this bill to wipe out any anti-isreal content as well as (in Blackburn's own words) "eliminate transgender content"

This bill WILL be used to end modern activism as we know it.

anything related to Free Palestine, Free Congo, Free Sudan, Black Lives Matter, Stop Cop City, LGBTQIA Rights, will be censored and wiped off the face of the internet.

we are looking at Farenheit 451 and 1984 COMBINED. And I still see almost NO ONE talking about it since my initial post I made talking about it last year. Every single one of you need to interact with this post and spread the word. contact your reps. sign petitions (all of which will b linked at the end of this post) AND MAKE SOME GODDAM NOISE. This is the fate of the internet as well as the fate of modern activism and literally the entire internet.

Resources for learning about KOSA:

Petition and Call Script for contacting your senators and reps

Sign the open letter against KOSA

Stop KOSA Movement Linktree

[misaerabl]

Off The Ice

HOCKEY PLAYER ABBY X JOURNALIST READER 

MINORS and MEN DNI / Word count: 9.9k words 

SUMMARY: You were tasked with covering your university’s women’s hockey team, you see it as your chance to prove yourself worthy of becoming the next chief editor. Your main focus is Abby Anderson, the team’s star forward known for her cold, distant reputation. After observing her a few times, you’re surprised when she starts to warm up to you—unveiling a side of her no one else seems to see.

WARNINGS: scissoring, eating out, fingering (both a and r receiving and giving). I would say this is kind of a fluff with smut TT.

A/N: this is my early Christmas present tee hee.. I went on a bit of a whim writing this…  SMUT WITH PLOT or PLOT WITH SMUT WTV (please let me know if I miss any warnings!)

 ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The newsroom is buzzing with the usual chaos of deadlines and last-minute assignments. You’re sitting at your desk, scrolling through your laptop when your editor, Dina, stands by the door, holding a clipboard with the next round of assignments.

“Alright, people, we’ve got some big matches coming up,” she says, her eyes scanning the room. “I need someone to cover the women’s hockey team. We’ve got scouts coming to the next game, so make sure it’s more than just a game recap. I want a real story, got it?”

You glance up, the opportunity immediately catching your attention. The women’s team has been making waves lately, and Abby Anderson, the star forward, has been all anyone’s talking about. Known for her ruthless play and icy demeanor, she’s a force on the ice but practically a ghost off it. No one has really gotten the chance to uncover what makes her tick.

“I’ll do it,” you say, raising your hand before anyone else can speak up.

Dina looks at you, surprised. “You sure? It’s a tough one. A lot of pressure to get a unique angle.”

“I think I’ve got a good angle,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I want to write about the team, but also about her. There’s more to Abby than just her game stats.”

Dina raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Alright, you’ve got the job. But make it count.”

As she walks away, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. This could be your shot at making your mark—and maybe even getting that chief editor position. You grab your notebook, already mentally outlining your approach. The real challenge, though, won’t be writing the story—it’ll be getting past Abby’s walls.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

A few weeks later, you're sitting in the stands of the rink, notebook in hand, watching the women’s hockey team practice. The cold air cuts through the arena, but you're too focused on your task to notice.

Abby Anderson moves like a storm on the ice. Her swift, powerful strides cut through the rink with precision, her eyes locked on the puck, her focus unbreakable. She’s the kind of player who makes it look easy, but you know there’s more to it than that.

You’ve been attending practices for days now, trying to catch glimpses of Abby when she’s not in game mode. But so far, she’s kept her distance. She’s all business, all the time, barking orders at her teammates and keeping her interactions brief. If anyone speaks to her off the ice, it's either short and to the point or completely ignored. You’ve yet to get more than a few sentences out of her.

You jot down a few notes, trying to focus on the team’s dynamics, but your eyes keep drifting back to Abby. She's skating alone now, practicing shots at the net, her intense movements betraying any hint of vulnerability. You wonder if she ever lets anyone see that side of her—the one that's not all about hockey, about being the best.

“Hey.”

You jump, startled, and look up to find Abby standing next to the railing, her skates still on, but her posture relaxed. She looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“Uh, hey,” you reply, quickly trying to gather yourself. "Just—just taking some notes. You know, for the article."

She nods, glancing at the rink before looking back at you. “How’s it going so far? Got a good story yet?”

You hesitate, unsure how much of the truth to reveal. “I’m still working on it. It’s hard to find the angle everyone’s expecting… but I think I’ll get there.”

Abby studies you for a moment, her face still as hard to read as always. “Just don’t make me sound like a robot on the ice. I know how that goes.” She smirks, her first real hint of a smile.

You can’t help but laugh, relieved. “I’ll do my best to capture the whole picture. Not just the stats.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Good. Keep it real.”

With that, she turns and heads back to the ice, leaving you standing there, heart racing slightly faster than usual. You watch her skate off, feeling the weight of the conversation. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you had before. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to get past her walls.

But you also know it’s just the beginning. There's more to Abby Anderson than the game, and you’re determined to find it.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

A few days later, you’re standing in front of Abby’s dorm, the familiar nerves creeping in. The article deadline is approaching fast, and you’re still struggling to break past Abby’s walls. But today is different. After days of awkward exchanges and hesitant small talk after practice, you finally managed to convince her to sit down for a real interview.

You took a deep breath, knocked on the door, and heard the faint shuffle of movement from inside. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Abby in a casual hoodie and sweatpants, her hair pulled back in her signature braid. The intense, icy exterior you were used to wasn’t there—she looked... normal, like a regular college student.

"Hey," she said, offering a small, almost reluctant smile. "Come on in."

You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of the room instantly contrast with the chilly vibe Abby often projected. The space was clean but a bit cluttered, with hockey gear tossed on one side and textbooks scattered on her desk. It felt strangely intimate like you were seeing a side of Abby no one else ever had access to.

"Sorry about the mess," Abby muttered, gesturing to the pile of equipment. "I’m usually just too tired after practice to clean."

"No worries," you said, taking a seat on the edge of the desk. "Thanks for agreeing to this. I know you’re not exactly a fan of interviews."

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, instead grabbing two water bottles from a shelf and tossing one to you. "Let’s just get this over with," she said, her tone a little more playful than usual. It was as if the pressure from earlier had eased just a bit.

You smiled, grateful for her willingness. "I won’t take too much of your time. Just a few questions about... well, everything. Hockey, life. What it’s really like being Abby Anderson, off the ice."

She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms as she considered your question. "What it's really like..." she echoed, her gaze briefly flicking to the window as if pondering the words. "You make it sound like I'm some mystery."

"Maybe you are," you said, more candidly than you expected. "No one really knows you beyond the ice. You're always the tough player who doesn't talk to anyone off the rink." 

Abby’s gaze softened at your words, but she didn’t respond right away. Instead, she fiddled with the water bottle in her hands, turning it absently as she seemed to think about what to say. There was a quiet tension in the air, one that neither of you had expected when you first agreed to sit down.

"Yeah, I guess I come off like that, huh?" Abby finally said, breaking the silence. Her voice had a quiet edge to it, almost as if she was admitting something she hadn’t said out loud before. "I don’t really know how to be any different. It’s easier this way."

You felt a shift in the atmosphere, like she was allowing herself to be more open than she ever had before. The moment was subtle, but you couldn’t ignore it.

"I get that," you said softly, leaning forward. "But you’re more than just a hockey player, Abby. I mean, you’ve got layers—there’s got to be more to you than what we see on the ice."

Abby’s eyes met yours then, the intensity of her gaze making your heart skip a beat. For a brief second, you thought she might brush you off again, but instead, she looked almost… vulnerable.

"You think so?" she asked, her voice quieter now, as though she was testing you, seeing if you’d take her seriously.

You nodded, feeling a sense of connection you hadn’t expected to feel. "Yeah, I do."

A moment of silence stretched between you, and you could feel the energy in the room shift. The playful banter had evaporated, replaced by something deeper, more intense. Abby’s eyes lingered on yours, her lips pressing together as if fighting back something unspoken. You weren’t sure what was happening, but it was as if the ice around her was finally starting to melt, and in the stillness of her dorm, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

"I don’t usually do this," Abby said, her voice a little breathless. "Let people in, I mean."

The admission hung in the air, and you realized how rare this moment was for her. It was raw, real, and far from the icy persona she’d shown everyone else. There was no game face now, no walls.

"You don’t have to let anyone in," you replied, your voice lower now, almost without thinking. "But I’m not like everyone else, Abby."

She took a step closer, her eyes searching yours for a moment. Then, without another word, Abby’s hand reached out, brushing against yours—light at first, like she was testing the waters. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart raced as the proximity between you grew more charged, more electric.

"Are you sure about that?" she whispered, her voice shaky, unsure, but her eyes steady as she closed the space between you.

Before you could respond, Abby leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft but insistent. You could feel the toned, muscular strength in her arms as she held you, her hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. The warmth of her body radiated against yours, the firmness of her form pressing gently but surely as her fingers slid into your hair. It was as if her whole presence surrounded you—strong, sure, yet still carrying a touch of hesitation.

The kiss deepened as Abby caressed your hair gently, her fingers threading through it with a tenderness that belied her fierce persona on the ice. It was a contrast—the hard, determined athlete and the softness of the way she touched you. The moment felt like a contradiction, one that both of you were willing to embrace.

When she finally pulled away, her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. She looked at you with wide eyes, lips slightly parted as if she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Her hand remained in your hair, fingers still grazing your scalp.

Abby’s hand lingered in your hair, her touch soft but steady, as though she needed a moment to ground herself. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, eyes still locked on yours, as if searching for something—answers, maybe, or reassurance that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment.

"That was..." Abby’s voice trailed off, her lips curling into a small, uncertain smile. "I didn’t think you’d be... like that."

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the kiss. "Like what?"

Abby shrugged, a little bashful for the first time since you met her. "I don’t know. I guess I just figured you’d be... different."

"Different how?" you asked, your voice quieter now, but there was a playful edge to it.

"Like... not so—" She gestured vaguely between the two of you, looking for the right words. "I don’t know. You’re not what I expected."

It was your turn to feel a little bashful. You didn’t know what to make of this sudden shift in dynamics, but there was something about Abby’s vulnerability, her uncertainty, that made you feel like maybe this—whatever this was—wasn’t just some random kiss. It felt more like a beginning.

"Maybe I’m not," you replied softly. "Maybe we’re both surprising each other."

Abby’s eyes softened at that, and she gave a slow nod. She seemed to be processing everything in silence, unsure of how to label the moment. She was still the tough, intense player on the ice, but the cracks in that persona were becoming more apparent now.

"Don’t go thinking this means I’m some open book now," Abby warned with a smirk, though there was no real bite to it. "I’m still the same Abby Anderson."

You laughed lightly, the tension easing between you two. "I never thought you were an open book."

"Good," Abby replied, her smile returning, warmer than before. She finally pulled her hand from your hair, though she kept her gaze locked on you, her lips still lingering with a hint of the kiss you’d just shared. "But maybe... just maybe... we can see where this goes."

You nodded slowly, your heart still racing, but your chest felt lighter, freer as if a new chapter was just beginning to unfold. "I’m willing to find out."

The quiet between you lingered, the air between you charged with something unspoken. Abby’s eyes softened, and for the first time, she didn’t seem like the intimidating hockey player. She was just Abby, standing in front of you, her vulnerability laid bare.

"Maybe we don’t need to talk about the article anymore," she murmured, her voice low, almost like she was thinking out loud. "Maybe we can just... be here for a bit."

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could respond, Abby was standing up, closing the space between you. The shift in her demeanor was subtle but unmistakable. She was no longer the distant athlete; she was someone who wanted more than just the interview.

"You make it hard to stay guarded," she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath warm against your skin. Her hands slid to your waist, gently pulling you closer. Her body was strong, and solid, but there was a softness in the way she touched you, a tenderness you hadn’t expected.

You swallowed, your pulse racing as you met her eyes. "Abby..." You couldn’t find the right words, but you didn’t need to. The air between you both was thick with the weight of what was about to happen.

Abby’s lips found yours again, more urgent this time, less like a question and more like an answer. She kissed you deeply, her hands threading into your hair as she pulled you closer, her body pressing against yours with a heat that made everything else fade away. The kiss was slow, deliberate, as though she was savoring the moment. Her arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, like she was afraid to let you go as if the distance between you both had only made her want you more.

You melted into her embrace, your hands finding their way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as if you could close the gap that had always been there between you. She groaned softly, the sound low in her throat, sending a thrill through you.

When the kiss finally broke, Abby’s forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily. Her hands gently cupped your face, her thumbs brushing across your cheeks as if memorizing the feel of you.

"I’ve been wanting this," she admitted, her voice hushed. "More than I thought I would."

You smiled, still feeling the rush of the moment. "Yeah," you whispered back. "Me too."

Abby’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. "This doesn’t change anything, right?" she asked, her voice a little uncertain. 

You gently cupped her face, your fingers tracing the sharp line of her jaw as if to reassure her. "No," you said softly. "But maybe we can figure out what comes next..."

Her lips curled into a smile, and for the first time, it wasn’t guarded. It was real, and it was for you. "Yeah," she whispered, closing the distance again, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that felt like the beginning of something neither of you was ready to define just yet, but both of you were willing to explore.

And as the kiss deepened, you realized that no matter what happened after this, you had stepped past the barrier that had once kept you both apart. Whatever came next, it was something neither of you were willing to walk away from…

She pushes you down on the couch, her body hovering above you. She stares deeply into your eyes as if she was asking for permission. You nod in response. 

Abby buries her face in your neck, kissing and nipping it, making you moan in response 

Abby's touch is confident and assertive, her hands roaming your body with an intensity that mirrors her personality on the ice. She knows what she wants, and she's not afraid to take it. Her fingers trace patterns on your skin, igniting sparks wherever they touch.

Her hands slid under your shirt, her fingertips trailing along your sides, feeling the soft skin beneath. You gasped at the touch, your hips bucking slightly. Abby took advantage of this, her hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss.

She broke away from your lips, her breath hot against your neck as she whispered, "Can I... can we...?" She nuzzled her nose against your jaw, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "Can I take this off?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, and she reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and over your head.

As your shirt hit the floor, Abby's eyes roamed over your bare chest, taking in every detail. She reached out, tracing a finger over your collarbone, down your sternum, and across your abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake.

Her touch was light, reverent, as if she was worshipping your body. She looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire, and leaned down to press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your chest.

You hissed in a breath at the warmth of her mouth, your fingers tangling in her hair. She continued to place kisses all over your chest, her hands roaming over your curves. She paused at the waistband of your skirt, looking up at you for confirmation.

Seeing your nod, she hooked her fingers under the hem, pulling it up and off. She took a moment to appreciate what was revealed - your smooth legs, the curve of your hips, the lacy underwear that matched your bra.

Abby's hands slid up your legs, her touch leaving a path of tingling heat. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of your underwear, her eyes locked with yours. "Can I...?" she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper, full of need and uncertainty.

“Go ahead abby…” 

With a nod and a shy smile, Abby slowly slid your underwear off, tossing it aside. She paused, her eyes taking in every inch of you, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

She heard you suck in a breath above her, and she looked up at you with a mischievous grin. Slowly, she leaned in, her hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place as she pressed her mouth to you, her tongue parting your folds.

She started slowly, exploring you, learning what you liked. Your moans filled the room, encouraging her. She slipped a finger inside you, her mouth continuing its administration. You let out a low moan, your hands fisting the couch cushion as you tried to keep yourself grounded.

She added another finger, stretching you, preparing you. Your moans grew louder, your hips moving in rhythm with her actions. Abby looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears at your beauty. She withdrew her fingers and climbed up your body, claiming your mouth in a passionate kiss.

You could taste yourself on her, the evidence of her ministrations. You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your legs around her waist, pulling her closer. "Abby..." you whispered, your voice shaky,

"Mmm?" She murmured against your lips, grinding against you. She was still fully clothed, her pants rough against your bare skin.

"You're still dressed..." You panted, your hands reaching for the hem of her shirt. She grinned and sat up, pulling her shirt off in a swift motion. She reached behind her back, unhooking her bra and tossing it aside.

Her breasts bounced free, and you reached up to grasp them, squeezing and kneading them in your hands. Abby let out a pleased moan, her hands reaching for the button of her pants. She popped it open and slid the zipper down, shoving her pants and underwear down her legs.

Now Abby was completely naked, sitting astride you. You looked at her, taking in her toned stomach, her full breasts, the curve of her hips, her muscular thighs. She saw the awe in your eyes, and it made her feel powerful.

With a predatory grin, Abby lowered herself onto you. She wrapped her legs around yours, crossing her ankles behind your knees. She slowly rocked against you, her wetness rubbing against yours. You gasped at the new sensation, your hands gripping her thighs as she continued to move against you.

She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against yours as she captured your mouth in a deep kiss. She sped up her pace, her breath coming in short pants against your lips. She reached one hand down between them, her fingers finding that bundle of nerves and rubbing in time with her movements.

You cried out into the kiss, your hips bucking up to meet hers. The sensation of her rubbing against you, combined with her fingers on your clit, was too much. You felt your orgasm building, your vision blurring as Abby continued to grind against you.

"Abby... Ab... I'm... I'm..." You stuttered, your words cut off by a moan as she quickened her pace. She felt you convulse against her, your hands clutching at her back, your face buried in her neck.

She smiled to herself, pleased with the effect she was having on you. She kept scissoring against you, her own orgasm building. "Look at you," she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're so… perfect.”

As she spoke, she felt her own climax approaching. She increased the pressure between her legs, rubbing herself against you with frantic intensity. With a loud cry, she came, her hips jerking against yours as her orgasm overtook her.

She collapsed on top of you, her breath hot against your neck. You ran your fingers up and down her back, feeling the dampness of her sweat. "Abby... that was..." you started, but words failed you. She just chuckled and nuzzled your neck. "I know,”

She stayed on top of you, her arms wrapped around you in a loose hug. Her fingers traced patterns on your stomach as she nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent. "Can we just…”

"...Stay like this for a while?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She nuzzled your neck again, her body pressing closer against yours. She felt content, happier than she had in a long time. She felt a connection with you, a bond forged in the heat of passion.

You nodded, not wanting to break the moment. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close as you both lay there in silence. The only sound was the gentle rise and fall of your breathing and the soft rustling of the sheets.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The next day came faster than you expected. You’d barely gotten any sleep, your mind constantly replaying everything that had happened after. But as you sat in the café near the university, waiting for Abby, your heart settled into something more focused. Today wasn’t about the sparks from the night before. Today was about the interview.

The café was quiet, the kind of place where you could lose yourself in the hum of conversation and the clink of cups and saucers. It was cozy, with warm light spilling from overhead lamps, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You had a lot on your mind, not just about Abby, but about the article and what this interview could mean for your future with the paper. If you did this right, if you got Abby to open up like she never had before, you might be able to prove yourself worthy of the next chief editor position.

A few moments later, the door to the café opened, and there she was.

Abby stepped inside, her usual confidence radiating from her as she scanned the room, her eyes locking onto you instantly. She was dressed casually—athletic but comfortable—and yet she carried herself with the same quiet intensity that made her a standout on the ice. Her gaze softened when she saw you, and the familiar spark of something more was there again, just beneath the surface.

She walked over to the table, giving you a small but genuine smile. "Hey," she greeted, taking a seat across from you. "You doing okay?"

You nodded, trying to steady yourself. "Yeah. Just a little nervous."

"Don't be," she said, her voice reassuring. "It’s just coffee, right?"

"Yeah. Just coffee," you echoed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But you know... a little more than that, too. A real interview."

Abby chuckled, glancing around the café. "Right, well, let's make it count then."

You both ordered your drinks and for a moment, there was an easy silence between you. The pressure of the moment, of what had passed between you both, seemed to be melting away, replaced by something more comfortable, natural.

Finally, you picked up your notebook and pen, getting down to business. "Alright," you began, your voice steady but a little softer than usual. "Let’s start with hockey. You’ve been the team’s top scorer for a while now. How does it feel to be in the spotlight like that?"

Abby leaned back in her chair, her eyes focused on you. "It’s... a lot of pressure. But it’s part of the job. Being in the spotlight is something you just get used to. Especially when your team depends on you."

There was a confidence in her tone, but also something more—something that suggested the weight of being the best wasn’t always as easy as it seemed. You could sense the layers beneath her tough exterior, and you knew this was where the real interview would begin.

You pushed forward, asking more questions, and letting the conversation flow. As you spoke, Abby opened up more than you expected, revealing not just her thoughts on hockey, but glimpses of who she was outside the rink. She was driven, and focused, but there was a vulnerability to her that only seemed to surface when she talked about her team, her passions, and the sacrifices she’d made to get where she was.

The interview wasn’t just about facts anymore—it was about connection. And for a moment, you forgot about the article entirely.

After a while, Abby leaned forward, her eyes locking with yours, and you could feel the shift again. There was a quiet tension hanging between you both as if the world outside the café had faded away, and only the two of you existed in this small, intimate moment.

"You know," Abby said softly, her voice almost playful now, "you asked a lot of questions, but you haven’t told me anything about you. What made you want to write about me? About hockey?"

You blinked, taken off guard by her question. You hadn’t expected her to turn the tables. "I... guess I thought you were an interesting story. I mean, you’re kind of a mystery to everyone. The tough hockey player. The star who doesn’t talk to anyone off the ice."

Abby’s smile was small, but it felt meaningful. "I’m not really a mystery. Just... focused. You get that, right?"

You nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. "Yeah, I get it."

For a long moment, you both just sat there, the sound of the café filling the silence between you. The interview was far from over, but something had changed. It wasn’t just about the article anymore. It was about something else—something you both hadn’t been ready to acknowledge yet, but it was there, lingering in the air between you.

"You know," you said after a beat, "I think this might be one of the best interviews I’ve done."

Abby’s gaze softened. "Glad I could make it interesting," she said, her voice quiet but warm.

And as you sat there, talking about everything and nothing, you realized that what had started as a simple interview had turned into something else entirely. A new chapter, one you weren’t sure how to write, but were willing to explore.

 ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The final game of the season was just days away, and the energy around campus was electric. You could feel the anticipation building with every passing hour. The women’s hockey team had worked tirelessly all season, and now, the championship was within reach. For Abby and the rest of the team, it was the culmination of all their hard work. For you, it was the final stretch to prove you could handle the pressure of being the next chief editor of the school paper.

You’d passed the draft of your interview to Dina, the current editor-in-chief, and she had loved it. The words flowed smoothly, and she could sense the connection between you and Abby without you having to spell it out. That feedback had given you the confidence to continue pushing forward, not just for the article, but for everything you had on the line.

But the days leading up to the final game felt like a whirlwind. You and Abby were both consumed with your responsibilities—her with the team’s last-minute practices and preparation, you with your final edits and deadlines. It wasn’t the ideal time for the two of you to reconnect, but you knew that after the game, everything would settle, and maybe you could find out what this—whatever it was—meant.

You found yourself in the quiet corner of the student lounge, typing away on your laptop, trying to finish your article before the big game. Your mind kept wandering back to Abby, though—how her smile lingered after the interview, how she’d looked at you across the café that day, like there was something more she wanted to say but couldn’t.

You hadn’t had time to talk since that day, and now, with the pressure mounting on both sides, you weren’t sure when you’d get the chance to sit down with her again.

The door to the lounge opened, and you didn’t look up right away, assuming it was just another student coming in for a late-night study session. But then, a familiar voice broke through your concentration.

"Hey, you."

You froze, the sound of Abby’s voice sending a familiar rush through your chest. When you looked up, you found her standing there, dressed in a hoodie and sweats, her long hair tied back in a messy bun. She looked exhausted, but there was a spark in her eyes.

"Abby?" you asked, surprised but a little relieved to see her. You hadn’t expected her to stop by.

"Yeah," she said with a small grin, taking a step closer. "I, uh, figured we should talk before the big day. We’ve both been too busy, haven’t we?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. "Yeah, it’s been crazy. I’ve barely had time to breathe with everything going on."

"I get that," she said, her eyes softening. "But I wanted to check in with you. How’s the article coming along? You’re going to be on top of the world when they publish it, you know that, right?"

A warmth spread through you at her words. "It’s... going well," you said, trying to hide the excitement in your voice. "I think Dina liked the draft. She said it’s one of the best interviews she’s read in a while."

Abby raised an eyebrow, a proud smile tugging at her lips. "I’m glad to hear that." She leaned against the table, her tone turning more playful. "But you better not make me look too good. I don’t want to get all cocky before the game."

You laughed softly, the familiar spark between you two returning. "I think I can keep it balanced."

Abby’s smile faded just slightly as she looked at you more seriously. "Listen, about... what happened before. I know we’ve both been busy, but I just wanted to say... I don’t regret it. Us, I mean." She paused, her gaze softening. "I guess I’m just trying to figure out what this all means, but I don’t want to run from it, either."

Your heart skipped a beat, the tension in the air thick with unspoken words. "Me neither," you said quietly. "I don’t know what this is, but I’m willing to see where it goes. After the game, maybe we can talk more."

Abby nodded, a small, genuine smile returning to her face. "Yeah. We’ll figure it out." She glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at you. "I should go, get some rest. Big game tomorrow, right?"

You nodded, feeling that familiar pang of disappointment that she had to leave so soon. "Yeah. Good luck, Abby."

She paused at the door, turning back to face you. "Thanks. And... I’ll see you there," she said with a wink before she disappeared into the night.

As you sat back in your chair, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything—despite the pressure of the article, the looming championship game, and the uncertainty about what you and Abby were becoming—you couldn’t deny the excitement buzzing in your chest. Tomorrow was the big day, and whatever came after, you knew you’d both be ready.

The final game had arrived, and the energy around campus was palpable. The buzz in the air was electric, with every student and faculty member talking about the championship match. You could feel the weight of the moment—this wasn’t just any game. For Abby and the team, it was the culmination of months of grueling practice, sacrifices, and determination. And for you, it was the finish line for your article—and maybe something more.

You had finalized your piece, and after getting Dina’s approval earlier that morning, there was nothing left to do but wait for the game to unfold. But as you stood at the rink, the sense of anticipation made it hard to focus on anything else. You watched as the team prepared, Abby at the forefront, looking every bit the fierce competitor you had come to admire.

Her movements were fluid, and powerful, slicing through the ice like she owned it. You found yourself drawn to her, to the way she held herself—confidence in every stride, but you could also sense something else, something beneath the surface. And though you tried to concentrate on taking notes for the article, every so often, you’d glance at her, catching her eye.

You were almost caught up in the rhythm of the game when the buzzer sounded, signaling the start. The intensity was immediate, the tension tangible in the arena. The crowd’s roars filled your ears, the game beginning in a blur of motion. You scribbled down observations, the action on the ice more chaotic than you had anticipated. It was difficult to focus on anything other than the game itself. Every move felt crucial, and Abby was right in the middle of it all, controlling the pace with every turn.

But it wasn’t just the game that had your attention. It was the way Abby played—how she seemed to be everywhere at once, her energy contagious, urging her teammates forward. She was the center of it all, and you couldn’t help but admire how she took charge, and how her presence seemed to push the team toward victory. She was sharp, a calculated force on the ice.

And then it happened.

Abby made an interception, gliding effortlessly past the defense. At that moment, time seemed to stretch out, the entire arena holding its breath as she lined up for a shot. Her eyes focused, and in one smooth motion, the puck flew off her stick and toward the net. The sound of the puck hitting the post rang out, but Abby wasn’t done. She was already there, crashing the net, securing the rebound, and slamming it in. The crowd erupted.

Your heart raced, the realization dawning on you that her goal had put them ahead—and it was the winning goal.

The game continued, but the tide had turned. With seconds on the clock, the buzzer sounded, and Abby’s team celebrated their victory. You stood in the middle of the crowd, still processing the intensity of it all. Abby had led them to victory, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for her.

You waited near the locker room, hoping to catch Abby after the game. You hadn’t been able to keep up with the excitement of the game completely, but you had seen enough to know this was her moment. The sound of the locker room doors opening echoed in your ears, and you spotted her almost immediately.

Abby stood out from the others, her usual focused demeanor softened by the thrill of the win. She was still in her gear, her face flushed from the game, but there was a lightness about her that hadn’t been there before.

"That was incredible," you said, your words a little breathless from the adrenaline of the game still coursing through you.

She looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "It was a team effort," she replied, but you could see the pride in her eyes. "Still, I’m glad you were here to see it."

You smiled, taking a step closer. "You’ve earned it," you said quietly, meeting her gaze, trying to find the right words. "I’m proud of you."

Abby’s expression softened, her usual confident exterior cracking just a little. She leaned in slightly as if weighing her words carefully. "Thanks," she said, voice lower than before. There was a moment of silence between you two, the noise of the locker room buzzing faintly in the background.

For a second, it felt like you were the only two people in the room. Abby’s eyes never left yours, a quiet understanding passing between you. There was no need for words, not now. The game, the season, the article—it all seemed to fade as you stood there, caught between the rush of the moment and the realization that this wasn’t just about hockey anymore.

As the team continued their celebration around you, Abby’s hand brushed against yours, a subtle connection that sent a jolt through you. She gave you a small nod before walking toward the rest of her team, leaving you standing there, your heart still racing from the game—and from everything that was unfolding between you and her.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

he newsroom was alive with a flurry of activity, papers scattered everywhere as the final touches were being put on the issue. The clock ticked toward 8 PM, and you were sitting at your desk, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous energy. The article was done. Your piece on Abby, her journey to the championship, and the thrilling game had come together perfectly. The highlight of the issue, the one everyone was talking about. It felt like the culmination of everything—your hard work, your ambition, and the connection you had built with Abby.

As the editors rushed past, congratulating you on how well the article turned out, you couldn't help but smile. A few of them had asked you how you’d managed to make Abby open up, some even teasing you about her sudden warmth toward you. "Did you sweet-talk her?" one of the writers joked. "She’s been ice-cold with everyone else!" You just shrugged, your mind drifting to her last words to you after the game. "Just doing my job."

But as the energy in the newsroom built to a crescendo, Dina appeared in front of you, leaning in with a grin. "I think you just earned the spot as the next editor in chief," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the buzz of the room.

Your heart skipped a beat. You blinked, not sure if you’d heard her right. "Wait, what?" you asked, feeling a flush of disbelief and excitement rise in your chest.

Dina chuckled softly. "You’ve earned it. You’ve got the article everyone’s been talking about, and you’ve proven you’ve got the skills. I’m officially putting your name in for the position." Her eyes twinkled with approval as she walked off, leaving you stunned, your breath caught in your throat. This was it. This was everything you’d worked for.

As the evening wore on, the final issue of the paper was ready to go to print, and it was only a matter of time before it would be released at midnight. You stayed in the newsroom, helping with last-minute preparations, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Abby. What she’d said, what she meant to you now, and how the chemistry between you had grown in such a short time.

In the midst of the excitement, your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. The message on your screen made your heart race.

Abby 🏒: Hey, where are you? 

Abby 🏒: I’m still at the party btw

Abby 🏒: I want to see you.

You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips as you typed your response, the warmth from her text a stark contrast to the cool air in the newsroom.

You: I’m at the paper, finishing things up. I’ll be there soon❤️

You felt a little giddy, your heart racing with anticipation. After everything, the article, the win, the promotion—it felt like the perfect moment to see her again, to see where everything between you would go.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, you closed your laptop, the rush of excitement bubbling up inside you. The paper would be published, and your future as editor-in-chief seemed all but certain. But as you left the newsroom, your mind was on Abby—and the night ahead.

As you turned the corner, the soft hum of the campus night air accompanied your steps. The excitement of the newsroom buzzed in your veins, but everything seemed to quiet when you saw her waiting for you.

Abby was leaning casually against the wall, a small smile tugging at her lips as she waited, the blue jersey she wore a bold contrast against the dimly lit hallway. It was the same one her teammates all wore, emblazoned with your university’s logo—proud and unmistakable. But even in something as simple as a jersey, there was still that undeniable pull to her presence.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you walked toward her. "You didn’t have to wait for me," you teased softly, though you were secretly glad she had.

Abby pushed off from the wall, stepping closer. "I wanted to. Besides, I promised I’d see you tonight, didn’t I?" Her voice was playful, but there was something softer in her gaze, something more sincere.

You nodded, the air between you light and easy, but still charged with that undercurrent of something more. "You did," you agreed. "And, uh, I actually have something to show you." You pulled out your phone, tapping through the screens until you found the article you’d written.

Abby raised an eyebrow as she glanced at the screen. "No way," she said, her lips curling up slightly. "You actually made me sound like a good person."

You laughed, but there was a warmth spreading in your chest. "I didn’t just make you sound like a good person, I made you sound amazing." You swiped down, showing her the headline: "Abby Anderson: The Heart of the Winning Team." The words felt just as true as when you’d written them.

She studied the screen for a moment, her fingers brushing lightly against the phone. "I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to get me to open up like this," she said, her voice quiet, almost thoughtful. "But you did. So, thanks."

Your heart raced at her words. The sincerity in her voice made everything feel more real, like something was shifting between you two.

Abby looked at you, her gaze holding yours for a moment longer than usual, before the silence stretched. The sounds of the party down the hall faded in the background, the moment between you two feeling more significant than any celebration.

"You wanna head back to the party?" you asked, breaking the silence, though neither of you moved immediately

She shook her head, her  hand brushed against yours. She paused, her fingers lingering against your wrist, a soft smile on her lips.

"I think," she started, her voice low and steady, "I’d rather be alone with you right now."

Your heart skipped a beat, her words making everything feel just a little more intimate. The noise from the party down the hall seemed to fade away, the energy shifting in an instant.

"You sure?" you asked, your voice a little quieter now, as the anticipation between you two hung thick in the air.

Abby nodded, her eyes meeting yours, full of something unspoken. "Yeah. I’d rather spend some time with you... just us."

She gave your hand a gentle squeeze before she led you away from the noise, down the hallway, and toward her dorm room. The walk felt longer than it was, but it gave you time to let the anticipation build. Abby’s steps were confident, but there was a softness in the way she held your hand, something that made your chest flutter.

When you reached her dorm, Abby opened the door, stepping aside to let you in. The room was cozy, nothing extravagant, you took in the familiar feeling. It felt like a place where she could truly be herself. The familiar blue jersey she wore still clung to her frame, a symbol of her strength on the ice. But now, in the quiet of the room, she seemed different—less guarded, more present.

She tossed herself on her bed and pulled you in with her, planting kisses on you. 

The sudden pull caught you off guard, and you laughed softly as you fell beside her. Abby's arms wrapped around you, her strength both reassuring and gentle. Her kisses were warm, pressing against your skin with an intensity that made everything else fade away. The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of the sheets and the sound of your breathing.

Abby paused, her forehead resting against yours as she caught her breath, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You met her gaze, a smile curving your lips as you traced the line of her jaw with your fingers, feeling the tension melt away under your touch.

“You okay?” she whispered, her voice husky and low, a tender contrast to the fierce athlete everyone else knew.

You nodded, your fingers threading through her hair. “More than okay,” you murmured, pressing your lips to hers again. The kiss deepened, slow and steady, as if both of you were savoring the rare moment of peace away from the chaos of the rink and the noise of the world outside.

Abby shifted, pulling you even closer, her embrace tightening around you as if she wanted to make sure this moment stayed real. The scent of her, the warmth radiating from her body, made your heart race. 

You sit up and move on top of her, her gaze softening as you did. “I think… you deserve a reward for your excellent performance at the game. don’t you think?” 

Abby’s eyes widened slightly at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She let out a breathy laugh, her hands finding their place on your hips as she looked up at you, a mix of amusement and anticipation in her gaze.

“Oh?” she said, raising an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “Is that so?”

You leaned down, your lips barely brushing hers as you whispered, “Absolutely.” The playful tone sent a shiver through her, and you felt her fingers tighten their hold, drawing you closer.

Abby’s gaze softened, the fierce determination she carried on the ice replaced by an openness that was reserved for moments like this—moments just between the two of you. The space between you seemed to shrink as she tilted her head to meet your lips again, her kiss more insistent, filled with a new kind of energy that made your pulse quicken.

She sighed against your mouth, the sound sending warmth rushing through you. Her hands traveled up your back, pulling you down until there was barely any distance left. The room, once filled with quiet, seemed to pulse with the shared heartbeat between you.

“Best reward ever,” Abby whispered, a grin breaking through before she kissed you again, deeper this time as if she couldn’t get enough.

Pulling away from the kiss, you start to unbutton your shirt, watching her gaze on you. 

She bit her lip, her eyes never leaving yours as you began to unbutton your shirt. She felt a flutter of anticipation in her stomach, her heart pounding in her chest. She reached up, helping you remove the shirt, her fingers brushing against your skin. "You're so…”

"...beautiful," she finished, her voice barely above a whisper. She reached out, tracing a finger along the edge of your collarbone, feeling the warmth of your skin. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the spot she had just touched, before moving on to kiss the sensitive skin just below your jaw.

She trailed her kisses down your neck, her lips lingering on your pulse point. She could feel your heartbeat fluttering beneath her mouth, quickening with each touch. "I want you," she murmured against your skin, her hands sliding down to rest on your hips.

She chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as she pulled back slightly. "You're right, I got a little carried away," she said with a playful grin. She settled back, watching you with hooded eyes, her hands resting on your thighs.“Ah! Not so fast Abigail. I’m the one who’s giving you this reward remember?”

You help her remove her jersey, and then the shirt she was wearing underneath. You trail down to her pants. As you began to unzip her pants, she lifted her hips, allowing you to slide them down along with her underwear. She lay before you, her body bare and exposed, her chest heaving with anticipation. Her eyes, filled with desire, followed your every movement as you leaned down.

She let out a soft gasp as you kissed her stomach, your lips trailing down to her hips. She wrapped her arms around your head, holding you close as you continued your path of kisses. When you reached her inner thigh, she spread her legs wider, giving you access to her most intimate area.

She moaned softly as you kissed her, the sensation overwhelming. Her hips buckled against your touch, her breathing growing heavier with each passing moment. She tangled her hands in your hair, pulling you closer as the pleasure intensified. "Please...please..." she begged, her voice barely a whisper.

She arched her back, her breath hitching as you continued to tease her with your mouth. Her legs tightened around your shoulders, her whole body tensing as the pressure built inside her. "Don't stop...please, don't stop..." she pleaded, her voice hoarse with desire.

Her eyes flew open, her mouth forming a silent 'O’ as you pushed two fingers inside her. She writhed beneath your touch, her hips bucking against your hand. "Yes...like that...please..." she moaned, her voice growing louder as the pleasure became almost too much to bear.

“Hm? You like it baby?” You hissed. 

“Oh god, yes...” She panted, her body tensing as your fingers curved upwards, finding that sweet spot deep inside her. Her head fell back against the bed, her body trembling. "More...I need more..." She looked at you, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire.”

You smiled, pleased with her reaction, and added a third finger, scissoring them inside her. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as the stretch and pressure became overwhelming. "Fuck...fuck fuck fuck!" She chanted, her voice echoing through the room as she struggled to breathe.

She could feel the heat building inside her, her body growing warmer and more sensitive with each passing second. Her hands grasped at the sheets beneath her, pulling them taut as the tension became unbearable. "I'm...I'm going to...please, please!" She begged, her eyes wide and desperate.

With a final thrust, you pushed your fingers deep inside her, crooking them upwards. She shattered, her body convulsing as waves of intense pleasure washed over her. She screamed your name, her voice hoarse from shouting, her body growing limp as the aftershocks subsided.

As she came down from her high, she pushed feebly at your shoulder, her body still shuddering occasionally. “My turn,” she whispered, her voice still ragged from her release. She pushed you onto your back, straddling you before you could protest.

You landed on your back with a surprised grunt, looking up at her with widened eyes. She grinned mischievously, her eyes filled with lust and determination. She slowly began to kiss her way down your chest, her hands caressing your skin.

She continued her descent, her lips leaving a trail of kisses on your skin. Without warning, she reached out and tore open your already unbuttoned shirt, the fabric ripping easily under her strength. She tossed the shirt aside and moved on to your pants, roughly pulling them down your legs along with your panties

Once she had you fully exposed, she took a moment to admire the view, her eyes hungrily roaming over your body. She licked her lips before leaning down, her hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. "I'm going to make you feel so good,”

She whispered, her voice low and sultry. Before you could respond, she wrapped her hands around your thighs, pushing them apart. She leaned down and slowly, torturously, ran her tongue up your length.

She took her time exploring you with her tongue, licking and sucking at your most sensitive areas. Her hands massaged your thighs, occasionally dipping lower to tease your entrance. She worked you with skill and enthusiasm, determined to drive you wild with pleasure.

Abby sucked on your clit making you toss your head back and grip her hair. You could feel her smile. She stops for a second and slides in her fingers inside you

She curled her fingers inside you, rubbing against your g-spot as she continued to suck on your clit. You cried out in pleasure, your hips bucking against her face desperately. She added another finger, scissoring them inside you as she finger-fucked you relentlessly.

She could feel you tightening around her fingers, knowing you were close. She doubled her efforts, sucking hard on your clit as she pumped her fingers faster. Her other hand reached up to roughly grope your breast, pinching and tugging at your nipple. She wanted to feel you come undone.

The combination of sensations became too much and you came with a loud moan, your body shaking and convulsing. Abby continued to stroke you through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure. She slowly withdrew her fingers and licked them clean, savoring your taste. "Mmm, you taste divine," she purred.

She crawled back up your body, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. She leaned down to claim your lips in a searing kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on her. She ground her hips against yours, her own desire evident in the way she rocked against you. She was far from finished with you… 

She kisses your neck, trailing down until she reaches your breasts, sucking on your nipples. 

She lavished attention on your breasts, suckling and kneading the soft mounds. She bit down gently on one peak, causing you to gasp. She grinned mischievously and continued her torture, moving between the two and back again.

“Mhmm.. Abby… Shit”

She heard your muffled words, your voice hoarse with desire. She knew you were helpless under her touch. She bit down harder on your peak, relishing your cry of pleasure-pain. She moved her hand down to toy with your slick folds, mirroring the action of her mouth with her fingers. 

You bit your lip, staring at her. as if begging her to give it to you. You wanted her fingers inside your walls once again.

Abby looked up at you through her lashes, a smirk playing on her lips. She slowly slid one finger, then two inside you, loving how you bit your lip and watched her with eager eyes. "You like that, baby?”

“Fuck yes…” 

Abby pumped her fingers in and out of you, curling them upward to hit that spot deep inside. Her thumb rubbed circles on your swollen nub. "Look at me while I touch you," she demanded. Your eyes locked onto hers as your hips lifted to meet her touch, silently begging for more.

She added another finger, stretching you. She watched your face as she increased her pace, her fingers slamming in and out of you. Your breaths came in short pants, your moans filling the room. She leaned down to capture one of your moans with her mouth, kissing you deeply.

Your legs shook as she worked you expertly. She could feel you tightening around her fingers. "That's it, baby. Come for me," she encouraged, her voice low. You shattered, convulsing around her fingers as you found your release.

As your climax washed over you, Abby gentled her touch, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure. She slowly withdrew her fingers.

She gathered you in her arms, holding you close as your breathing gradually slowed.

She stroked your back soothingly, placing soft kisses on your shoulder. "You’re gorgeous," she murmured. She reached over to the bedside table and retrieved a warm, damp cloth, cleaning you up tenderly. 

She tossed the cloth aside and pulled you back into her arms. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly. She nuzzled your neck, her voice laced with concern. You snuggled against her, your voice sleepy. "Content," you murmured. "So taken care of…”

She smiled, her heart warming at your words. She tightened her arms around you, her voice gentle. "Good. You deserve to be taken care of." She kissed your shoulder, her touch becoming slower, more loving. "Rest now, baby. I've got you.”

Abby’s gaze softened as she watched you sleep, the subtle rise and fall of your chest lulling her into a sense of calm she rarely found anywhere else. The room was quiet, the only sounds being your soft breaths and the distant hum of the city outside.

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle in—a mix of contentment and the unfamiliar ache of something deeper. Brushing her thumb across your cheek, she whispered, “You have no idea what you do to me,” her voice so low it was almost swallowed by the quiet.

As exhaustion finally pulled her eyes closed, Abby held you tighter, as if anchoring herself to this moment. The worries of games and expectations could wait; for now, all that mattered was the warmth shared between you and the steady rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

 ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

[naturegirl555]

The fake dating trope in buddie fics actually makes me laugh cause they don’t really act any different from how they normally do and it’s so idiotic of them! I love those little gays

[justdavina]

For me she's the perfect transgender girl friend! I love everything about her! From her beautiful face and sweet long blonde hair, to her super sexy ...no, very,very HOT body! Please,I need a fire extinguisher,this place is on fire!!! Look at those marvelous breast! Oh MY!! So kissable! I love her cute pink top and floral colored skirt! She's to die for! As I look into her wonderful blue eyes my heart skips a beat. I LOVE HER SO MUCH!!!!

[ao3-shenanigans]

Not cis, not trans, but some secret other thing

[mayghosts]

enemies to lovers with paige. buuuuut they were used to be best friends but something happened between them

-🎀

Snow Angel: Flurries (1) Paige Bueckers x reader

Summary: How does a class project repair your broken friendship, and how does a friendship turn into something more?

(TOC)

Warnings: unhealthy alcohol usage,

AN: my life is not in shambles anymore! Heres to posting multiple times a week!! I can’t believe I'm writing ANOTHER series??? Hello???

January 7th, 2024:

Sitting in the back of your Friday afternoon astronomy class, you gazed out the window, letting your eyes drift across the snow covered campus. You always had a hard time focusing in this class, mainly due to the blonde who always sat a few rows away from you. However, today was different. Paige was missing from her regular seat, which you now knew was because of the basketball game against Gerogetown. Her absence seemed to have a similar effect on you as to when she was actually present. Instead of constantly staring at the back of her head and wondering what went wrong, you stared out the window and wondered over and over where did we go wrong?

(Flashback) October 31st, 2022:

“Paigeeeee, are you ready to go?” you giggled, stumbling into your dorm living room and wrapping your arms around her neck. You swayed side to side, already feeling the buzz of the shots you had taken with Nika a few minutes ago. “Jesus, Nika! How many shots did you give her!!” You could hear the concern laced in Paiges voice as she stabilized your hips and unwound your hands from her neck. You melted under her touch, god she was pretty.

You had never been much of a drinker, all throughout highschool when you and Paige would go out to parties she would drink and you would stay sober so you could drive home. However, this year had been hard on you, and lately drinking has been your saving grace after a long day.

You were absolutely hammered by the time the party started winding down. Stumbling around in your cowboy boots and someone elses costume cape, the last thing you remember was clinging to Paiges arm she gently helped you into the back of the Uber.

Waking up the next morning, your head was pulsing and your could already feel the hangover anxiety eating away at your stomach. Squinting your eyes at the light from your phone, you opened your texts. However, you were met with a big paragraph from Nika and a short but tense text from Azzi. Nothing from Paige. Scanning over the texts quickly, you immediately found yourself calling Paige.

Your call going straight to voice mail didn't help the queasy feeling in your stomache at all. 

Slipping out of bed, you dragged your feet into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and wash your face. The bathroom tiles were icey cold, even with socks on your feet were freezing. As you scrubbed at the crusted on makeup, you racked your brain to try and remember the events of last night. You slid your slides on, making your way out of your dorm and down the hall to Paige and Nikas dorm. Knocking quietly, you felt the anxiety eating at you again. You heard shuffling before the door opened to reveal a clean and practice ready Nika.

“What are you doing here?” her harsh tone took you by surprise. You blinked absently at her for a moment, “uhh… I just wanted to ask what happened? Last night? And see if Paige is okay, my call to her didn’t go through and-” you could see her getting more irritated as you kept talking before she interrupted you. “She dosen’t want to see you right now okay? And neither do I, you really fucked up last night and honestly your behavior lately has been ridiculous. I need to go to practice and I don’t want to see you again until you can get your shit together.” Pushing past you, she walked straight into the stairwell, letting the dorm door slam behind her.

More confused than ever, you made your way back to your dorm and crawled right back into bed. You knew you weren't really the same person you were when you met them, but you never considered the change to be a bad thing. If anything you were more confident and more comfterable in your body. So what if you go out a few times a week. Honestly, you weren't even sure if that was what she was talking about. Regardless, you spent the next month trying to fix something you didn’t understand. You scoured the texts Azzi and Nika had sent you for any details or clues, but the most you could figure out was that you said something to Paige.

You sent countless texts until yu found out you were blocked. After that you tried emails, Instagram DMs, waiting outside classes, and even tried to befriend the media girl, just for a chance to talk to Paige. However, the blonde was basically untouchable. Between her teammates constantly watching you and her persistence with blocking you on every possible internet platform, you found yourself friendless and worst of all Paige-less.

January 7th, 2024:

You were pulled from your day dream as you heard your professor say your last name “… you will be working with…” he dug his hand around in the little bucket on his desk. You assumed this was for another partner project “Paige Bueckers!” shit.

Stepping out of the lecture hall, you felt a similar sense of dread in your stomach as you dragged your feet towards the dining hall. As you walked you pulled out your phone and started drafting a text to send to Paige. Standing in line for your smoothie, you were once again met with the brutal realization that your were stilll blocked. Guess we can just start on Monday?

[gurugirl]

The Trio

A/N: just a little something quick I wrote up based on this request! Plot light, smut heavy.

🏳️‍🌈 Happy pride month babes! 🏳️‍🌈

Summary: Three strangers meet at a club and things get sexy. Featuring a MMF threesome + double penetration

Word Count: 3k

Warning: smut, oral sex, anal sex, strangers fucking (safe and consented), double penetration

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

Harry went for a night out with no expectations for anything in particular. It was always in the back of his mind to find a hookup but it wasn’t a priority. If it happened, it happened.

The club entry was only $5 and the DJ spinning that night had exceptional taste, he thought. The space was dark, only illuminated by flashing colorful lights over the crowd of half-naked, sweaty bodies gyrating together.

Harry took a shot of tequila and then found a spot for himself to dance with the crowd of people. Letting the stress of the week wash away as he moved to the beat he felt himself loosen up bit by bit.

It wasn’t long before an attractive guy began to dance with him closely. Their chemistry was good, Harry could tell.

“I’m Roy,” he leaned in close and spoke into Harry’s ear, hand on his shoulder.

“Harry,” he smiled, continuing to move with his eyes on the handsome man in front of him.

.                 .

Y/n spotted the pair on the dancefloor from her place at the bar. She was working up a bit of liquid courage to get herself out there to dance when she saw them.

They were extremely attractive, both with wide grins, looking the other up and down. She wondered if they knew one another or if they were strangers who’d just met. She wouldn’t mind having them let her join. If they were into girls that is.

But she wasn’t at the club to feel insecure about herself or question anything. She was there to get laid. Girl, guy, anything in between… it didn’t matter. Y/n was a single woman who liked everyone and everything. But she did want to try something new and two hot men could be a bit of fun.

Working her way through the human sea of erotic dancing she got in close enough to the handsome duo. They were both about equal in height and quite fit. One had tattoos up the length of his arm but both were brunettes.

The one with tattoos locked eyes with her as she swayed her hips and his raspberry mouth turned up in a grin aimed at her.

And then they were all dancing together. She didn’t know how it had happened but the other had found his way behind her and the beat seemed to move them all together. Her short dress was riding up her thighs as she moved with the music but she didn’t care. That was the point; to show off what she had and if they might be interested then even better.

Clearly, they were both interested. When the one with tattoos placed his hand on her hip and he was just inches from her she could see his green eyes and smell his cologne. The man behind her pulled at her waist and spoke against her earlobe, “This okay?”

She nodded and turned to look at the man over her shoulder, “Don’t stop,” she smiled at him.

So they didn’t. Their bodies moved together and the brunette with tattoos and the one without took turns dancing behind her, touching the exposed skin on her arms and thighs and touching one another, where she enjoyed watching the men as they began to kiss before they tugged at her to join and the trio smeared lips and tongues and slippery skin together as they continued writhing to the beat.

Y/n already had her pulse up from the attention but when she felt warm lips on her neck she was a goner. That was her on switch. All the way on. And he didn’t just give her a soft peck, he began to suck and felt him nip at her sensitive skin as she moaned.

The tattooed one ducked down to her other side and began licking her flesh before she felt his lips pucker and dot wet kisses on the opposite side of her neck. With her eyes closed she gasped at the feeling of being between them until a strong tattooed arm wrapped around her waist and she felt his mouth at her ear, “You taste good.”

Her mind was swirling and her panties were getting damp as he pressed his lips against hers before the other began to pull at them both until they were away from the swaying, steamy ocean of beings.

“I’m Harry,” the one with green eyes spoke and the other licked his lips and dragged his gaze down her body, “I’m Roy.”

“Y/n,” she spoke loudly so they could hear her softer voice over the music and that seemed like all anyone needed to agree to move their little trio elsewhere.

Roy’s apartment was nice with a good view of the city and a big open kitchen with high ceilings.

He poured shots for everyone before Harry’s big hand found the back of Roy’s neck and he dragged him in for a sloppy kiss. It only turned Y/n on even more. Their mouths and tongues wound together as Roy moaned and drew his arms over Harry’s shoulders.

Y/n could see by the way the front of their pants were bulking that they were ready to go.

Roy parted from the kiss with a soft gasp and he looked at Y/n, “Let’s go into my bedroom and get naked.”

The men watched as Y/n’s body was bared to them, soft hips and round tits, plush tummy and ass. She was gorgeous. Harry had removed his shirt and unbuttoned his pants but when her breasts bounced from her bra he stopped everything to palm at her and lick her nipples into his mouth.

Roy stepped in behind and she felt his hands on her bum, spreading her ass as he tucked his crotch against her, “What do you like?” His finger smoothed over her anus and she knew what he meant.

“Everything. I like everything.”

Harry stood tall over her before he pushed his pants down his legs and his cock was swollen and thick the moment she looked down at him. He hadn’t been wearing underwear.

She felt Roy slide his tongue down her neck and then he moaned, “Fuck that’s a pretty cock, Harry,” as he reached around her frame to grip Harry’s fat dick.

It was true. Harry’s dick was nice and big and his body was a work of art. Inky tattoos scattered over his chest and arms and on his thigh, firm pecs, and broad shoulders.

When Roy let go of her he pulled Harry in by his hips and she watched the men frot against one another before Harry wrapped his big hand around Roy’s length and began pulling at his shaft.

Y/n sat down on the bed and watched for a moment as they stroked each other, lips slotted together. They rutted in together and then Harry parted from the kiss, hooded eyes and wet, pink lips as he knelt down in front of Roy and licked his wide tongue upward.

“Fuck…” Roy growled as he watched Harry wet his cock.

Y/n hadn’t had the chance to watch two men going at it in person before. But it was hotter than she expected. She leaned back onto one palm as she let her fingers stroke over her pussy. Harry took Roy like a pro, deep-throating him in one go and gagging slightly as he bobbed and drool dripped down his chin and neck.

Roy had his hands on the back of Harry’s head as he sucked him loudly. Smacking his lips around his cock and looking up at him with glossy eyes.

“Good boy… just like that…” Roy’s voice was hitched.

Y/n couldn’t resist but to climb down to where Harry was and take him in her hand, she stroked his thick cock up and down causing him to pop off Roy and look down at her, “You gonna suck me off, pretty?”

With a nod, she spat over his tip and smeared the saliva down his shaft before kneeling and wrapping her lips around his warm tip.

Both men were moaning and whining as they got their cocks sucked. She could taste Harry’s precome as she swallowed around him and coughed. But then she felt fingers on her ass before they slid around to find her pussy. She moaned when his fingers dragged through her wet crease and then he found her entrance, pressing inward to finger her.

She was already dripping and Harry’s long fingers inside of her easily pumped in and out and back into his knuckles.

“Mmm… let’s get in the bed. Get some condoms out…” Roy offered as he pulled at Harry’s hair, lifting him off. She sat up, spit pooling in her mouth as she swallowed it down.

Y/n and Harry climbed into bed as Roy brought out a box of condoms. Harry dragged her into his lap and pressed his mouth against hers softly before she felt Roy’s hands on her ass again and then felt his mouth, wetting her crevice before spitting over her anus.

“She’s got two really pretty holes here, Harry.”

Harry moaned into her mouth and parted from the kiss, his eyes on hers, “I bet she does. You like having all your holes filled up, Y/n?”

She nodded, “I think so. Never had it before but I know I’d like it. I love anal.”

Roy pulled at her middle, dragging her from Harry’s lap into his own, her back pressed into his chest as he groped her tits and Harry leaned down to attach his mouth to her wet pussy.

She felt Roy’s fingers circling around her anus, dipping his middle finger into her ass as Harry slid his tongue over her clit and slurped it into his mouth.

It wasn’t long before Roy had two lubed fingers deep in her bum while Harry had two of his fingers in her pussy as he sucked on her button. Harry had more slide since he was on the pussy side but the full feeling Y/n loved, having something inside of her ass, had her moaning gutturally into the room, head dropped back against Roy’s shoulder.

She could hear Roy panting in her ear as he worked her ass open, the lube bottle lying next to them on the bed had been put to good use. She was glad for it too because with everything slick and warm her body was buzzing in pleasure.

Her orgasm was unexpected. But it zipped through her body coming out in spurting gushes into Harry’s mouth as he fucked her with his fingers, stroking something inside that had her squirting and she’d never been with a man willing to drink it all up like him.

Her body was positioned on the bed gently as she came down and watched the men wrap their cocks in condoms before they began to make out again, both lay facing one another as Y/n recovered from her orgasm.

When she felt the bed rocking she turned to see Roy behind Harry, mounting him from and Harry had his face in the comforter as he moaned pathetically, hands gripping the blanket tight.

Roy slid in and out, his sight on the space where he was connected to Harry’s ass.

It was fucking sexy. Y/n watched the men fuck and she felt the need for more, getting turned on by the sounds they made together.

Roy grunted and pulled out as Harry whined at the loss of the cock that had just been stuffed in his ass.

“You want in?” Roy asked Y/n, his hand cupping her face gently.

She nodded, “Sure.” It was exactly what she wanted.

Harry donned a condom of his own as they had Y/n get in the front on her hands and knees before his girthy crown nudged into her aching hole, splitting her open as he thrust in.

Harry began to fuck into her, an easy pace that spread her open as she gently fingered at her clit and then she felt him still his hips as Roy pushed back into his ass, a desperate whimper falling from Harry’s mouth as he squeezed Y/n’s hips tight.

Roy groaned, “Fuck that’s a nice tight ass, Harry. Bet that feels good huh? Getting bottomed and topped at the same time, yeah? Like having a pussy on your cock and getting your ass filled up?”

Harry let out a choked moan and it almost sounded like he was in tears as he gasped, “Yes. Fuck yes…”

Harry fucked into Y/n in shallow thrusts, he didn’t need long strokes to reach deep, he was already so lengthy and thick she felt every inch of him as he rutted into her, but the hottest part was the sounds falling from Harry’s lungs. He was in heaven. Getting his cock worked and his ass fucked at the same time was going to go down as the best thing ever.

The men grunted and panted as Y/n moaned and her sloppy pussy was gushy with every plunge of Harry’s cock. When her thighs started to quiver Roy pulled back and grabbed Harry’s hips to slide him from her.

“You want two cocks in one, baby,” Roy asked her as he tore his condom off and reached for a fresh one.

She had been so close to her second orgasm and now all she wanted was her release. She nodded, “Yes. Sounds so good. Please.”

Harry got onto his back and pulled Y/n with him to straddle his lap, as Roy came up behind her, hands on her hips.

She stared down into Harry’s moony eyes as she lowered back down on his heavy cock and gasped, “Fuck you’re so big. God…”

Harry lifted his hips up with a smirk as she panted, her palms pressed into his chest when she felt Roy drizzle lube all over her anus and spread it inside. She began to ride Harry gently as Roy fingered her ass. But then she felt him shift and his fingers were gone before his cock was pressing into her backside, the initial stinging ache of him filling her up had her halting her hips and gritting her teeth.

Harry lifted his hand to her face and cooed at her, “You okay? Is it too much?”

Shaking her head no she dropped her mouth open, “Oh… it’s… shit… fuck me…”

Incoherent strings of words fell from her mouth as she pushed back against Roy and moaned. She loved anal. She’d done it plenty, but the feeling of having both holes stuffed at once was something on a different level.

And once they got moving her brain was melted and she began to drool warm puddles of saliva over Harry’s chest as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Both men panted and moaned as they fucked into their respective wet holes. Gushy and soft and warm, the sound of skin smacking together, stunted moans and garbled gasps, a gentle creak in the bed.

It wasn’t like anything she’d experienced before but now she was hooked. Getting fucked by two men was going to be a necessary indulgence from now on. She loved the feeling of being nothing but a wet, warm hole.

Roy’s fingers dug into her hips as he pulled her flush against himself, balls glued against Harry’s cock as Harry thrust upward. Harry moaned and she felt his hands on her face, pulling her down so he could kiss her as he fucked into her from below.

Her guts and her insides were mush as they used her holes to find their release. Everything was so full and so wet as Harry lapped into her mouth and sipped at her tongue.

“Oh fuck, she likes this Harry. Got her clenching around me tight…” Roy cooed.

Both her cunt and her anus were clamping down on the separate cocks moving in and out as she quivered and moaned into Harry’s mouth. She writhed her hips, dragging her clit into Harry’s pelvis sending sparks through her spine and her limbs.

“Oh my god…” she moaned loudly, lifting her mouth from Harry’s as she inhaled. Both men were grinding into her deeply, her clit being worked and nudged at every thrust of Harry’s hips.

When the men felt her tense up as she started to come they both began to rail into her little holes a bit faster, chasing their own orgasms. Y/n arched her back as her ears rang and she felt Harry inside of her pussy throbbing before she felt Roy’s cock pulsing.

The trio moaned together as they each came. The men pumped into their condoms, Roy threw his head back when he could no longer keep his eyes open and pinned on the space his cock was taking up inside the pretty girl.

Chests heaved and slippery genitals slowed inside of her as she collapsed onto Harry’s chest and Roy leaned over her back to kiss her shoulder blades. Hearts beat in unison as they came down and caught their breaths.

She felt a hand on her ass squeezing, “You okay?”

She nodded into Harry’s muscled pec, “Mmhmmm…”

Harry’s laugh vibrated into her cheek and she felt Roy slowly pull himself from her.

She was rolled to her back like a rag doll as the men cleaned themselves and helped her wipe up. She could hear their deep voices whispering, a bright laugh filled the space before she felt a warm hand on her hip and another on her tummy, “Do you need to call anyone before you fall asleep?”

Blinking her eyes open she shook her head, “No. Is it okay?”

Roy rubbed her belly, “You can sleep if you need to. We’re just gonna crash here together if you’re alright with it.”

She turned to see Harry on his side next to her, hand on her hip with his eyes closed, a faint smile on his mouth.

Placing her palm over Harry’s hand and her other over Roy’s she closed her eyes and nodded before she drifted off to sleep, the exhausted men following right behind.

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[scififettuccine]

maybe a frenchie x supe!reader? there’s not enough frenchie fics out there! like maybe they don’t get along but they’re forced to work together?

A Wild Fix: Part 1

Pairing: Frenchie x Reader

Summary: You, Wild Card, a 27 year old Supe newly signed by Vought, are recruited by Billy Butcher following an incident in Vought Tower. With the help of The Boys, you vow to destroy the corrupt system that wronged so many. But will your mission be tainted by your constant bickering with one of your new team members?

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Violence, drug use, Homelander (Obviously), mentions of drug use, questionable French

Notes: I absolutely LOVED this request. I slept on it once I saw it because I had so many ideas and I didn't know where to start...but my goal is going to be a 3-5 part series! I'm going to try my best to keep each part under 2k, maybe 1.5k each? No gender was specified in the request so I'm gonna keep it as a GN reader!

From the outside...Vought as a whole seemed like the shiny pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that every Supe had striven for since the company's creation. But you? You knew the truth. Only 24 hours into your career as a member of The Seven, you had been subjected to more violence than you expected from a group that was supposedly supposed to save people. Your first meeting with the rest of the group had gone south quickly once you questioned one of Homelanders statements, and stood your ground when he told you to back down. Before you could even blink, you were pinned against the wall, with a firm hand pressed against your neck, constricting your breathing. In that moment, you understood that being compliant was the only thing that would secure your status as living. So that's what you did, you nodded your head and said “yes sir.” Needless to say, you left that room with the fear of god, no, the fear of The Homelander, choked into you…But you knew you couldn’t sleep here. So you booked a hotel room for the night, hoping maybe the receptionist wouldn't notice the bruises on your neck.But while you walked there, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hugged yourself to keep the cool night air out of your jacket, you were approached by a man named Billy Butcher. The two of you had a lengthy conversation outside of the hotel regarding the truth behind Homelander, The Seven, and Vought as a whole. Then he made you an offer you couldn’t refuse: a chance to get back at Homelander. A chance to bring yourself justice, as well as bring justice to the others he had hurt in his desperate pursuit of ultimate power. Of course…you agreed. 

You had kept in touch with Butcher the following week on a burner phone he had given you, knowing that Vought had most likely bugged all of your personal technology…and on your next day off? You met him at a location that was unknown to you, one you would soon come to be familiar with. As he ushered you down the wooden stairs of the unknown building, you weren't met with the most reassuring of environments. Drug paraphernalia, along with various illegal weapons, and full ammo boxes littered the expanse of the rather unwelcoming looking hideout. You stopped at the bottom step and pointed to a literal stack of plastic bags containing what you could only assume was coke.

“That’s…” you swallowed, “That’s coke.” Butcher, who had been guiding you down the stairs with his hand on your lower back, laughed and shook his head.

“That’s right, love. Bags of coke.” Billy said with a small chuckle as he patted your back and stepped onto the broken concrete floor of the basement, greeting the others that inhabited the space. The first person you noticed was a rather lengthy looking young man who looked to be around the same age as you with slightly curly brown hair. Admittedly, you thought he dressed like a twelve year old. He was seated on a questionable looking couch, next to an older man with a bigger build and a darker complexion…who looked like he could snap you in half with little to no effort. Your gaze then flickered further into the room, and your gaze landed on a man who was around the same height as you. Not exactly tall…but not short either. The man in question had a buzz cut, a piercing on his left ear, and was wearing an orange and black tie-dyed shirt, along with cargo pants. He was seated on one of the tables that housed various pieces of drug paraphernalia, and was seemingly using a business card to arrange lines of coke on the back of an old phone book that sat on his lap.

“Well boys…here they are. This is Y/N L/N.” Butcher interrupted your silent evaluation as he addressed the room. He walked back to your side and put a hand on your shoulder, moving to point to the younger man on the couch. “That poor bastard there is Hughie,” he moved to the man next to him, “that's MM,” and finally…he pointed to the man sitting on the table. “That’s Frenchie.” Frenchie pulled his head away from the phonebook, white power dusted on his nose.

“Bonjour-” He said, cutting himself off with a sniffle as he wiped the coke from his nose. Oh, that's why they called him Frenchie. You narrowed your eyes, the greetings of the two other men falling on deaf ears as you looked Frenchie over. Clearly something important had been said during the duration of your staring, because you were knocked out of your thoughts by a firm nudge to the shoulder by Butcher.

“Oi, Hellen Keller! Are you up for it or not?” Butcher asked. He realized you hadn’t heard him and narrowed his eyes with a sigh. “We’re going to meet up with an info plug…You can either come or stay here with Frenchie.” You sort of just panicked and blurted out an answer, not wanting to ask any dumb questions about the info plug.

“I’ll stay…with uh, Frenchie.” You said. As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You weren’t an overly judgy person, you really weren't…but you couldn’t help but feel a bit of trepidation regarding staying alone with a man who had done coke off the back of a dirty phone book within the first minute of you meeting him. Butcher smirked when he saw the look of regret on your face.

“Right then. We’ll be back, love.” He said, gesturing for Hughie and MM to follow him out. “Make yourself at home.” With that, the three made their way up the stairs, leaving you alone with Frenchie. You took the moment of awkward silence that followed them leaving to look around the basement, your feet glued to the floor of course. The walls of the space were composed of a skeleton made of wooden posts, which were filled in with a mixture of red brick, and the same color of concrete that the floor was made of. The walls in question were littered with spray painted tags of many different colors, most of which you couldn’t read, due to the fact that they were in a different language, but they were oddly beautiful nonetheless. The lighting in the room, just a few hanging light bulbs, added to the strange ambiance of the room.

“You are Wild Card…Yes?” The silence was broken by Frenchie, who was still sitting on the table, but now facing your direction. You turned to him and nodded, albeit awkwardly.

“Yeah…Yeah. That's me. Just call me Y/N, though.” You said, trying your best to give a convincing smile.

“Y/N…” He nodded as he repeated your name, “Oui. A good name.” He looked at you for a moment, almost waiting for you to respond. When you didn't, he pursed his lips and blinked. “Remind me, Y/N…What are your powers exactly?” You sighed when he asked that. It was always strange explaining what exactly your powers were.

You were called Wild Card for a reason. While you were powerful…using your powers was sort of like playing a game of russian roulette, only with the gun pointed towards the other person. You could do a multitude of different things, along with the constant of your strength, speed, and agility. You could create different balls of explosive matter, you could manipulate and use the moisture present in the air for multiple different attacks, along with a few other niche things. The problem was…you never knew which would happen beforehand. All you could go off was the feeling you felt in your palms. You weren’t exactly the most reliable Supe abilities wise…but every one of your random attacks was extremely powerful, making you a good person to throw into the mix if things aren't going well for the rest of your team, which is why you were a valuable member to add to The Seven.

“Uhm…Have you ever played Uno before? Like the card game?” You asked. Frenchie nodded. “Well it’s kinda like when you put a wild card down in Uno, and you get to pick a color…Except you pick the color blindly.” Frenchie sort of stared at you for a moment, before he started laughing. You tensed up when you heard him laugh, but you tried to laugh along, due to the fact that you couldn’t tell if he was laughing with you or at you. “Forgive me, mon cher-” He stifled a laugh before continuing, “that is the silliest thing I've ever heard.” At that comment, you frowned, taking a step back even though you were across the room from each other.

“Silly? It’s not silly at all…I’m pretty powerful, all things considered-”

“But you just use it blindly?” He asked with a chuckle. “What happens when you want to shoot a fireball or something, but you summon a child’s teddy to your hand instead?” That ticked you off. Who the hell was he to insult your powers? He was a druggie, and didn't even have any.

“How can you sit there and insult me when you were doing lines off the back of a 30 year old phonebook when I walked in?” You asked, your words coming out a bit more spiteful than you had intended. Frenchie narrowed his eyes, but tried to shake off his anger. He wasn’t fond of fighting with people over small things, especially not when intoxicated. 

“Ah…I see…” He said with a chuckle that you could only describe as pathetic, “All Supes really do have an ego, don't they?” He asked, hopping off the table he was sitting on.

“Hey! You've known me for five minutes and you're already making assumptions about me?” You balled your fists and took an accusatory step forward. Frenchie raised a brow.

“And I’m safe to assume that you’ve already painted this image of me in your head like some sort of druggie asshole?” Damn. He got you with that one. But alas…You were too prideful to let him have the last word. You scoffed.

“Maybe I’ll change my opinions when you’ve done something other than do drugs and laugh at me.” You said with a roll of your eyes. You weren't a conflictive person…But the last few days had been long and hard, so you couldn't exactly help it.

“Ditto, mon amour.” He said, his face painted with an absolutely infuriating smirk.

“Fuck you.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know nothing about me.”

“Eh bien, va te faire foutre toi aussi.” He said, almost matter-of-factly, mocking your current stance. You didn’t speak French, but you could only assume he had said something insulting back. Well, fuck you too. You were about to spit something back, but thankfully, Butcher came walking back down the wooden stairs, an eyebrow raised.

“Everything's alright down here, love?” He asks, the look on his face a mix between suspicion and curiosity. 

“Yeah. Everything is fine.” You said, your tone strained. Butcher then looked over to Frenchie, who simply gave a thumbs up before leaning down to do another line off the phonebook. You huffed and rolled your eyes. You were too exhausted to say anything else.

The nerve of this man.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I think it's safe to say this mini series is going to be lots of fun! I love Frenchie as a character, and it was really fun to come up with a fun Supe persona for the reader! I hope you enjoyed, and stay tuned for part 2! I'm also working on a taglist form so keep an eye out for that! Adieu!

Masterlist

[eziojensenthe3rd]

So this pretty damn official. Thursday is gonna see committee markup of bills including kosa.

Make as much noise as you can.

[ohbueckers]

HALFTIME. i know that your body’s been in drought, so, girl, i’m gon’ make you feel it.

ONE-SHOT! pairing, paige bueckers x reader. notes, based off this request. thank you, anon, they all said in unison! i swear jealousy is what i write the best i’m always finding a way to it lmaaao. enjoy as always. warnings, sexual content.

the arena lights are blinding, but they don’t stop paige from seeing everything—and everyone—in the stands. she scans the seats between plays, like she’s been doing all game, just to catch a glimpse of you. you’re sitting on your own, decked out in her uconn gear. you flew in from usc, your own university, just for her, crossing the country to see her play, and it’s been keeping her amped up since tip-off after not having seen you since the season started.

she’d been locked in, sure, but ever since she spotted you, every second on the court has doubled as an opportunity to check in. you’d mentioned you’d be sitting alone since you didn’t know anyone besides her teammates, and she’s been quietly reassuring herself that you’d be okay. it was enough, though—the knowledge that you were here, watching her, even if it was from a distance.

now, though? now, paige can’t believe what she’s seeing.

some guy just sat next to you, leaning in with too much confidence, smiling too wide. paige can’t see the details, but she notices the way his posture says too close, the way you tilt your head slightly, almost like you’re humoring him. it doesn’t matter that you’re probably being nice, that you probably had an empty seat next to you. that’s her spot next to you, her right to your focus.

she catches herself clenching her jaw, and her hands tighten around the ball as she sets up the next play. shes almost telling herself to let it go, that she only feels like this because she’s missed you so bad, and didn’t even have a chance to see you before having to get on the court. but that was until she saw it. his hand.

she runs a hand down her ponytail, fingers grazing over the two tight braids framing her face, her eyes fixed intently on you and that guy beside you. she’s so caught up in watching that she doesn’t even notice kk nudging ice on the bench, motioning over to her in a way to say, yo, look at p.

it would’ve been fine, really. he laughed, hand dropping casually to your knee, and he even had the audacity to let it linger there, letting it inch a little higher. and that was it—her last bit of patience snapped. she knows you’re hers, but something in her always had to prove a point.

to herself more than anyone.

the whistle blares, and paige plays through the last seconds of the second quarter with a little extra force, a silent countdown ticking away in her mind until the buzzer sounds. as soon as it does, she’s off, nearly throwing the ball just to get it out of her hands.

as she heads off the court, a hand swipes the towel from a teammate, and she slings it around her neck, swiping it across her forehead with parted lips, huffing out breaths of tiredness and pure annoyance. the sweat from the game has her feeling wired, and her heartbeat’s already kicking faster than usual. she flicks her tongue over her lips, jaw working tight. the taste of salt clings to her skin, and her ponytail bounces against her shoulders as she walks, each step more clipped than the last.

rounding the corner into the tunnel, she catches sight of you waiting where you always do, leaning against the wall, your familiar face softening the second you spot her. you’d even left the stands a little earlier just to catch her, but she walks right past, barely a glance in your direction, her silence as heavy as the weight of her irritation. taken aback, you push off the wall, calling after her quietly, but she doesn’t look back, her focus set on where she’s headed. she had to have seen you, right? heard you?

she leads you to a more secluded area, and you can only hear her footsteps filling the empty hallway as you try to keep up, smaller legs not doing you much justice. she strides into the dimly lit room, the only light coming from the showers, casting shadows over the benches, lockers, and tiled floors. paige doesn’t say a word as you step in after her, your eyes wide in disbelief that she’d just fucking ignored you the whole way here.

then, she’s kicking the stopper holding the door open out. it shuts with a click, and without warning, she throws her towel onto a nearby bench before she’s pressing you back against the cool wall. her mouth is on yours, relentless and unapologetic, her tongue sweeping across your lips before slipping inside. she’s tonguing you down.

one hand is at the back of your neck, fingers spread, holding you firmly in place as she deepens the kiss, pouring every ounce of jealousy and need into it. her other hand finds your waist, pulling you flush against her.

“paige—“

“you got a whole lotta nerve, you know that?” she mutters, voice all rough as her lips find your jawline. you’re a little dazed, eyebrows furrowed as you submit to your girlfriend. until it clicks—curly-head in the stands. his hand on your knee, that laugh.

paige is jealous. and you’re definitely gonna milk it.

you wrap your arms around her shoulders, drawing her closer as she peppers kisses down your neck, a possessive bite here and there, making you tilt your head to the side. “you’re bein’ s’mean, p,” you murmur, teasing her in a way you’re sure she’ll fall weak to, fingers stroking that spot just below her ear. “i was just being polite.”

paige hesitates for a moment, her lips hovering over your skin, eyes narrowing. for a second, you think maybe she’s softening, that your words have gotten through. but just as quickly, her jaw tightens, and her eyes lower. without a word, her other hand drops to your waist, fingers gripping hard, and she pushes you down onto the bench behind you so effortlessly it has a pool forming between your legs.

she strolls around, flipping you over. “yeah? didn’t look like it from where i was standin.’” her eyes are fixed on you, and before you can answer, she’s hooking her fingers into your waistband, yanking down your pants in one swift motion. there’s a look in her eyes that tells you she’s not interested in taking her time with only fifteen minutes, and especially not after what she’s seen. she’s set on making a point.

her hands are on you too, one gripping your ass and the other digging into your thigh. you glance back at her, then to the door. her teammates have to be close—maybe a couple doors away. you can hear sneakers and loud chatter, and you wonder if they’re looking for their star player.

for paige, this is the last thing on her mind.

your neck doesn’t let you look for too long, and you’re forced to catch a glimpse of paige’s lick of her lips as you return your head to hang low. “fuckin’ polite,” she mumbles, shaking her head tauntingly as she mocks you.

her hands glide possessively over you, and you can tell just by the way they move how much she’s missed you. missed this. without warning, her fingers slip between your thighs, teasing your folds for just a moment before she slides one inside, the suddenness of it causing a gasp to catch in your throat.

her jersey clings to her, drenched from the game, arm sleeves pushed up just enough to expose the toned muscle of her forearms. her arms flex with each shift, biceps straining under the fabric as her other hand steadies you, holding you firmly in place, and she sure is strong enough to keep you from squirming away.

you’re whimpering, trying to contain your moans as you curl your lips in. paige is leaning in now, lips hovering near your ear as her ponytail brushes against your cheek. “think it’s funny?” she asks, and you shake your head as paige’s eyebrows furrow. “no? y’thought he was though. didn’t you?”

caught off guard, you hesitate, and that’s all it takes for paige to ram another finger in. you aren’t sure if you’ve just just been deprived, but one felt like enough. “pai—ah—fuck!”

she only smirks, settling back a bit as she watches the way her fingers sink in and out of you. “got me out here distracted,” she mutters, her tone dipping lower. you missed hearing her the most, the way the sound of her fucking accent could get you wet. “losin’ my focus over you, watchin’ you with him like you forgot who fucks you like this.”

unable to move out of her grasp, you can only squirm until you’re flush against her, ass pressed to her navy blue shorts. you’re barely able to hold yourself up, the pleasure spreading throughout your entire body.

paige takes the opportunity, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling you up so your back can meet her chest. her bottom lip is tucked between her teeth, her slender fingers pummeling into your cunt, and before you know it, she adds another. a third.

“pai—ge. shit. you’re stretching me out,” you breathe out pathetically, bringing your own hand down to your clit, trying to relieve some of the heat she’s added, but it’s no use.

“i know, baby,” she soothes through clenched teeth, overwhelmed by the grip your walls have on her herself. she’s looking down at you, all hunger. “y’ain’t had it in so long. gotta make sure you feel it.” and you do.

you settle against her with heavy breaths, moaning and clenching as your orgasm builds from her rhythm. paige knows exactly what she’s doing, every part of your body telling her you’re right on the edge. with each moan spilling from your lips, you grind harder, and she picks up her pace. “gonna come, ma? let me know.”

you nod feverishly, your voice almost breaking as you pant. “yeah, so close, p…”

she lets you go, and you catch yourself before falling all the way, whimpering. she pulls out slowly, too slow, until the tips of her fingers remained, curling in just a bit. it isn’t enough to get you there, and before you can beg, paige says, “tell me that you’re mine right now and mayb—“

you can’t wait another second. “i’m yours, baby.”

her smirk deepens, and she tilts her head, clearly savoring the sound of your voice as you confess. “yeah, that’s what i thought.” her fingers curl a bit more, giving you just a hint of the release you’re chasing, her touch infuriatingly perfect but just shy of enough.

with that, she resumes, fingers slipping deeper, her other hand gripping your hip as she holds you. the tension snaps, and you shudder against her, everything fading out as she keeps up, drawing out every last pulse until your legs are weak and your breathing’s even more uneven than before.

as you catch your breath, letting every part you can fall, paige, still holding her grip, pulls your pants up with a glance at the door. as you lean back into her touch again, she presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, almost tender now. “better remember that,” she whispers, barely audible.

craziest part? you don’t even like guys.

[melrodrigo]

tranquil

Wednesday Addams x G!N Reader

Summary: Wednesday gets a bad case of the late night feels.

Word Count: 600+

A/N: A short one simply for the vibes. Ty @wesstars n @mindyswhore for helping me out 🫶🏻 also i’m gonna mention @bingwriterxo simply cuz i miss her. Hope u enjoy!

It’s been a harrowing day.

After getting a presentation you’d been dreading for weeks done- which had effectively taken all your strength and social battery, you’d been hit with homework for every single class.

Which is how you ended up in your dorm, on a Friday night, sitting and stirring in a mix of damning pride and self-loath.

A knock on the door has your head shifting up and has you turning down the volume of your blasting classical music.

Classical music you’ve never cared for till you met Wednesday Addams.

Most popular loner to live. The infamous young detective. Psycho freak girl. A living black-and-white comic. All the names you can think of, but your favorite thing to call her is your girlfriend.

She’d played something on her cello one night while you were hanging out, and the music had flown through you so easily, lifting you and rattling you to the bone. It had been so magical you had to ask her what she was playing.

You saunter over to the door, somewhat unwillingly, believing you’ve had enough social interaction for one day, but speed up when another knock sounds- this time louder and more hurried.

“What.” You growl, before even looking at your personal space intruder.

“Are you playing tricks on me?” Wednesday, your girlfriend of two years, asks the moment you open your door. Her expression is stoic, as always, but a quiver in her lip tells you better.

The sight of her has the opposite effect on you as it would others.

You feel that little jump like you do every time you see her.

You cock an eyebrow at her, mouth upturned slightly on one side. “Well hello to you too.”

She ignores your comment, favoring instead to walk briskly into your dorm room, one that belonged to you and only you- perks of being the headmaster's kid.

You watch her as she breathes in deep, a display of immense emotion for the Addams, and sags her shoulders.

Contrary to popular belief, Wednesday did have emotions, and not to toot your own horn, but you were well versed in all her different moods by now.

But right now, there’s a different feeling in the air you can’t quite place. She seems…unguarded, unnaturally open.

You shut the door and lean back into the wall in time to see her turn around and walk up to you. She stops just centimeters away from you.

“What’s this about me playing tricks on you?” You question, a little hesitant, distracted by the glint in your girlfriend’s eyes. They barely show through her bangs nowadays, but today they shine brighter, demanding your attention.

She’s blinking slowly, gaze flitting between your lips and your eyes.

This was a look you were quite familiar with.

“Does someone want a kiss?” You tease, placing your hands on her waist gently. You break out in a grin when she sighs at the soft touch.

“Do you enjoy knowing you have control over me?” She asks, tilting her head up to stare into your eyes properly. You look for a joke in her eyes, but her expression stays the same.

Your heart soars at her words. You, out of everyone, would know how much depth her words contain.

Wednesday Addams never says anything lightly.

“Control?” You prod, wanting to make the most out of whatever this mood of hers is.

She nods, looking so relaxed and adoring it makes your heart ache.

“Control.” She whispers, very much staring at you like she wants to grab you by the face and kiss you.

“Yeah? Like what?” You tease further, ready for her to take back her former comment and call you an idiot.

What she does instead, surprises you. She turns her back and talks.

“Why are you turned the other way?” You inquire softly, so as to not ruin the moment.

Wednesday takes another breath that has your heart beating faster.

“It…helps me express my feelings.” She says. You see her hesitate before speaking once again.

“I want you to control me. Or something very close to that. I don’t know what this peculiar feeling is, but it’s dreadful. I’d do anything you asked.” She says, turning around to meet your gaze.

You soften, reach up to brush her face gently. As much as you’re enjoying the vulnerability, you’re a bit worried about what came over her to be so open.

“What’s happened? Are you okay?” You ask her quietly, concern seeping through your voice.

All she does is laugh lowly, shaking her head and bringing a hand up to cup yours.

“I am well, Y/N. I’ve just missed you.” She says, leaning further until she’s pressed up against you, not leaving any space between the two of you.

“We saw each other today.” You say, somewhat meekly, blushing furiously due to your girlfriend’s unexpected antics.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Your absence leaves a hole in my heart.” She tells you, adverting her gaze like she’s suddenly overcome with doubt.

You take her chin in your hands and tilt her face back to you, wanting to get rid of any uncertainty she has about expressing her feelings. It took ages for her to even open up to you, and you never want her to go back to feeling guarded again.

“I missed you too.” You tell her, as sincerely as you can.

Wednesday’s eyes soften even more like she doesn’t believe you said it back.

Eyes all misty and cheeks tinted red, she looks good.

You lean forward and nip her lips, then pull her in harder when you feel her shiver underneath you.

She responds immediately, grabbing tight at your pjs.

You affirm your prior statements with the most tender kiss you can muster, and you know by the way she grips you even tighter that she understands.