#like i forget how to start a conversation

[pbaz7]

FLIGHT 2136: PART 4

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content

word count: 8.6k

A/N: This really somehow turned into a serious lmao. God bless ✈️ anon. I’m thoroughly enjoying writing this one and I’m excited to see where I can take it next. Anything specific people wanna see?? Leave live reacts and comments if you can 🫶🏼🫶🏼

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After that night their conversations become effortless and automatic. What was once occasional text over a span of a few days here and there now turned into good morning messages, updates throughout the day, and late-night conversations that stretched longer than either of them intended.

Azzi quickly learned that Paige wasn’t actually that bad of a texter–when she wanted to be. It just took a little extra effort. Sometimes, though, she still slipped up, forgetting to reply for hours. When that happened, Azzi would call her, barely waiting for Paige to pick up before saying, “Text me back, genius.”

Paige would mumble out a sheepish, “My bad,” rubbing her eyes. But then, everytime without fail, she’d add, “You look pretty today,” her voice turning soft.

Azzi would roll her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her smile before hanging up.

A few seconds after hanging up, Azzi’s phone would buzz with notifications from Paige—each one carefully addressing everything Azzi had mentioned. It was clear Paige was paying attention, making sure to answer everything, even if it was something small like, "I just got Dairy Queen!" or "I found that song you were talking about."

The Facetimes, once a source of mild resistance from Paige, quickly became something she didn't mind at all. She didn’t grumble about how she didn’t like them anymore. Instead, Paige would simply answer and just prop her phone up and go about whatever random task she was doing, talking with Azzi as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Whether it was shooting in the gym, organizing her room, or just lounging around, Paige would keep the conversation light, letting Azzi watch her move through the motions of her day. And even on days where Paige wasn’t the most animated during their calls, a little spaced out, Azzi could still hear the underlying affection in her voice when she did say something—the way her words were always just a little softer compared to when she talked to everyone else, a little more personal.

Azzi found herself completely captivated by how Paige’s personality started to shine through in their everyday conversations. At first, Paige had always come across as a bit reserved, quiet, especially when surrounded by others–and honestly she still was. But in their moments alone, whether it was through text or FaceTime, Paige’s true colors began to emerge. Azzi had never expected her to be this way–honestly. Paige was a little obnoxious at times, cracking jokes that made Azzi laugh out loud, even when she tried to keep a straight face. Paige could be playful and sarcastic, the type to tease Azzi for the tiniest things, but it was never mean-spirited. It was endearing.

But what Azzi adored most was how gentle and observant Paige was. It was like she had a way of noticing the smallest details, even when she didn’t say anything about them. Whether it was how Azzi would get distracted by the simplests things, or how she picked up on subtle changes in Azzi’s mood, Paige seemed to have this innate ability to read between the lines.

The way these traits blended together–Paige being confident that was borderline cocky at times, a little obnoxious, funny, yet so thoughtful and perceptive–shouldn’t have worked as well as they did, but it was perfect. It was her. And Azzi was starting to realize just how much she loved it. There was something about Paige’s complexity, the contradictions of her personality that made her unique. With every conversation, every little moment, Azzi found herself falling for Paige Bueckers.

Paige didn’t know the exact moment she fell for Azzi. Maybe it had been the night after the USC game, when she sat there in the hotel room, unraveling a part of herself she had never shared with anyone before. When she told Azzi about the accident—some of the details, the conflict she felt all the time, the way she had spent so long resenting the world for what happened but thanking God that it wasn’t worse. And instead of offering empty words or hollow reassurances, Azzi just was—solid, there asking Paige what she needed instead of offering up what she thought she needed to hear. Somehow, within seconds of laying it all out, Azzi had brought her peace. A kind of peace Paige hadn’t even known she was searching for with a simple story about cutting her little brother's hair.

Or maybe it was in the hallway that same night. When she admitted she’d miss Azzi, the words feeling heavier than they should’ve. And Azzi, instead of overcomplicating it, just pulled her in, giving her something to hold onto, a quiet reassurance.

But then sometimes Paige thinks it was the next morning. When Paige, still groggy, had opened her door to find Azzi standing there in full UConn gear, clearly about to leave the hotel. Paige had barely mumbled out a good morning before Azzi stepped forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, like it was the most natural thing in the world and handed Paige a coffee, as if she knew that the blonde didn’t sleep much that night.

So yeah, Paige didn’t know the exact moment she fell for Azzi Fudd. But she knew that she had and she knew it happened when she was in California. She knew that she liked how Azzi made her feel. How Azzi made the world seem a little brighter. Like sunshine and rainbows as Paige would often sarcastically say when Azzi told her to cheer up.

Right now Azzi was lying in her bed, her phone propped up against her pillow as she absentmindedly toyed with the drawstring of her hoodie. Paige, on the other hand, was sitting at her desk, hunched over doing—well, Azzi wasn’t sure what exactly.

Azzi narrowed her eyes at the screen. "So, how was your LSU visit?"

Paige snorted, not even looking up. "It was alright."

Azzi raised a brow. "Alright? So… no?"

Paige finally glanced at her phone, looking at Azzi before smiling a little saying, "Not my vibe, is all."

Azzi smirked, shifting onto her side. "I feel like you say that about every team except UConn."

Paige leaned back in her chair, smirking right back. "Maybe I said it about UConn too. I just wouldn’t tell you."

Azzi’s jaw dropped at this. "That’s rude."

Paige just shrugged, clearly unbothered as she went back to whatever she was doing at her desk.

Azzi squinted at her. "What are you doing over there?"

Paige huffed as she leaned back in her chair again, throwing her pencil down on the desk. "I’m trying to do a sudoku."

Azzi snorted. "Why?"

Paige shrugged again.

Azzi’s lips curled into an amused grin as she propped herself up on one elbow. "Since when do you do sudoku?"

Paige groaned, dragging a hand down her face before resting her chin in her palm. "Since today. And probably not after today."

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. "Let me see."

Paige picked up her phone and angled it toward her desk. The screen showed a sudoku puzzle that looked… well, disastrous. Numbers were scratched out at the bottom, some squares had been filled in and erased multiple times, and at least one spot had what looked like a tiny doodle in the corner.

Azzi covered her mouth to muffle her laugh. "Oh my God."

Paige rolled her eyes but smirked. "Okay, mathlete. Relax."

Azzi grinned. "Do you even know the rules?"

"Yes, I know the rules," Paige said. "I just don’t know why there are so many numbers."

Azzi blinked. "Paige… that’s literally the point of sudoku."

Paige let out a deep sigh, tilting her head back. "See? This is why I don’t try new things. I need to just stick to dribbling a basketball."

Azzi hummed. "What’s got you trying new things, then?"

Paige shrugged as she pushed back from her desk and stood, stretching her arms above her head. Azzi watched as the hem of Paige’s shirt lifted, revealing parts of her toned stomach. She hadn’t meant to stare, but—okay, maybe she had a little.

Paige smirked, catching the way Azzi’s gaze lingered. She picked up her phone, bringing it closer to her face. "You’re a pervert."

Azzi scoffed. "I literally didn’t even do anything." But there was a slight smile on her lips, giving her away.

Paige dropped back onto her bed, lying on her side with one arm propped under her head. "You didn’t have to," she mumbled, eyes locked onto Azzi’s through the screen.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, shifting onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hands. "Oh? So now I’m just guilty by association?"

Paige’s smile deepened. "More so guilty by intention but sure."

Azzi let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. "You’re actually the worst sometimes."

Paige tilted her head. "Am I really?"

Azzi caught the shift in tone, the playfulness turning into something a little more intentional. She pressed her lips together, debating for a second before deciding—fuck it.

"Mhm," Azzi hummed, trailing a finger along the edge of her phone as she watched Paige closely. "But I think you like it that way."

Paige licked her lips, her gaze flickering over Azzi’s face. "Maybe."

Azzi bit her lip, her voice turning softer. "You’re a little smug for someone who just got roasted over sudoku."

Paige grinned. "Mmm course I am, look at how you’re lookin at me."

Azzi exhaled a short laugh. "You’re so annoying."

Paige’s smirk didn’t waver as she said, “No I’m not."

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the way her cheeks warmed. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"I could give you a few ideas."

Azzi blinked, her breath catching just slightly. Paige was really pushing it now.

She swallowed, tilting her head. "Oh yeah?"

Paige nodded, her fingers idly playing with the ring she always wore on her finger. "Mhm. But I think you already know."

Azzi let out a slow breath as she shifted. "You sure you can handle me?"

Paige huffed out a chuckle as she licked her lips. "I think I already showed you I can handle you just fine, Azzi."

Azzi exhaled sharply, her stomach flipping at how Paige was looking at her through the screen—like she knew exactly what she was doing, exactly how she was making her feel.

Azzi bit her lip, her voice softer now. "I miss you."

Paige’s expression softened just slightly, but then, before Azzi could get too caught up in the moment, Paige smirked again. "You’re just horny."

Azzi’s eyes widened, her mouth parting in shock. "Paige!"

Paige just chuckled, clearly enjoying herself. "What? Am I wrong?"

Azzi narrowed her eyes, though the warmth creeping up her neck betrayed her. "You’re disgusting."

Paige propped herself up on her elbow, tilting her head as she studied Azzi through the screen. "I’m just saying… you’re looking at me like you want something."

Azzi huffed, shifting onto her back as she threw an arm over her face for a second before peeking at Paige again. "And what if I do?"

"Then I guess I’d have to do something about it next time I see you."

God, Azzi wished she hadn’t asked that question because now she was warm and uncomfortable, and the worst part was—she knew Paige knew. The way she was chuckling on the other side of the screen, made Azzi squirm even more.

Azzi groaned. "Paige, please."

Paige hummed, all teasing. "Hm?"

Azzi hesitated, debating whether she was really about to ask for help with her… situation, but before she could get the words out, there was a knock on Paige’s door.

Paige’s head moved toward it, her smirk fading slightly. "Yeah?"

The door creaked open, and Drew peeked inside. "Can I sleep in here tonight?"

Paige’s expression shifted instantly—her playfulness replaced with something softer, more serious. She sat up, nodding without hesitation. "Yeah, course." She scooted over on her bed, making space for him near the wall.

Reaching for her phone, she looked down at the screen, her gaze apologetic. "I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’ll text you in a sec."

Azzi shook her head, completely understanding. "Don’t apologize."

Paige gave her a small, grateful smile before they both hung up, leaving Azzi lying there, staring at the ceiling—still warm, still uncomfortable, and now, very much alone with the feelings.

Or at least she thought she was alone—until her phone buzzed a few times.

Azzi grabbed it from beside her, her brows raising slightly when she saw Paige’s name on the screen. She unlocked her phone, and the second she saw what Paige had sent, she felt her stomach tighten.

The pictures weren’t anything too overly suggestive, but they were enough.

Some were mirror selfies—Paige’s sweats low on her hips, her stomach on display, a sports bra the only thing covering her top half. Others were clearly taken after being in the gym, her skin still slightly flushed, her hair damp, the definition in her arms pronounced.

Azzi chuckled when she got to the last one—a hand pic.

All the pictures were followed by a message. "Get yourself right."

Another buzz. "I'm sorry I couldn't help. I got you next time."

Azzi exhaled sharply, her entire body warm, her face buried in her pillow as she groaned.

Somehow, even when she wasn’t physically there, Paige still had her in a chokehold.

Still, Azzi followed directions. She sighed, shifting against her sheets, wishing—aching—that it was Paige’s hand instead of her own.

…

Back in Minnesota Paige lay still beside Drew, both of them staring up at the ceiling, their arms thrown behind their heads in near identical positions as they laid in silence for a few minutes. It was almost uncanny how much they looked alike when you really looked at them, their features reflecting off one another from the dim glow of Paige’s bedside lamp. Drew had gotten older, taller, but in moments like these, Paige was reminded that he was still her little brother—the same kid who used to follow her around with wide eyes, hanging onto every word she said.

The silence stretched between them, Paige figuring Drew was just taking a while to fall asleep. Then, Drew said something.

“That girl you’re always talking to,” he started, his voice quiet but still confident, like Paige had taught him.

Paige turned her head slightly, already knowing where this was going. “Her name’s Azzi,” she corrected, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Drew hummed in acknowledgment. “Is Azzi the reason you’re leaving?”

Paige blinked, caught off guard for a split second before she turned her head to look at him. She studied him for a moment, the way his brows furrowed slightly, waiting for her answer. With a sigh she said, “You know how when you were younger and we always talked about you coming to my games when I got to the league?” she asked.

Drew simply nodded.

Paige exhaled, glancing back up at the ceiling. “That can’t happen if I stay where I’m at now.”

Drew was silent for a moment before he mumbled, “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.”

Paige let out a quiet chuckle. “You and Dad are moving to the DMV. I’ll be one call away, I swear.”

Drew turned his head, watching her carefully before he finally asked, “So you’re going to UConn?”

A slow smile spread across Paige’s face as she nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna go to UConn.”

Drew studied her for another moment, then asked, “Have you told them yet?”

Paige sighed, shaking her head. “No, not yet.”

“Why not?”

Paige turned her head to look at him again, a different kind of warmth settling in her chest. She smirked slightly before answering. “I gotta tell Azzi first.”

Drew’s lips twitched into a grin as he turned onto his side, finally facing the wall to go to sleep. But not before adding, “You like her, huh?”

Paige rolled her eyes, but the smirk never left her lips. “Man, shut up. You’re supposed to be in here going to bed.”

Drew just laughed as he pulled the cover over his head to go to sleep.

Paige grabbed her phone from the nightstand, her fingers lingering over it for a moment before unlocking the screen. She chuckled softly when she saw a message from Azzi sent just three minutes ago. The message was simple, just a “Thank you.” Paige huffed out a quiet laugh when she saw the period.

She quickly typed out a response, her fingers moving without hesitation: Yup. After a brief pause, she added one more message, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she typed: Goodnight beautiful.

She read it over once more, her heart skipping just a little at the words before she locked her phone and set it back on the table. Paige turned off the light and settled into bed, pulling the covers up over her.

She stayed still for a while, her hands tucked behind her head, staring out the window that was across from her bed. The sudden quietness of the room seemed to amplify the thoughts racing through her mind, each one more tangled than the last.

She couldn't help but think of Drew, her little brother, and the way he'd come crawling into her bed tonight, like he’d done so many times before–seeking comfort from the chaos of his own thoughts. Her heart ached just thinking about it. She’d been around for every significant moment of his life, his constant lifeline, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving him behind, even if it was for the right reasons.

But then, as if the universe was constantly reminding her of the duality of her life, another thought would emerge: the weight of her future, the pressure to fulfill a dream she’d been chasing since she could walk. She wanted to go back to the notoriety she used to have, not because of the attention it gave her, but because of what came with it—the ability to give her family the life they deserved, to give back. To provide for Drew, her dad, her mom.

Paige sighed softly, her body sinking deeper into the mattress, as she tried to will her mind to quiet for just a moment so she could fall asleep. She was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but the thoughts kept coming. She knew it would take time, a lot of effort, and maybe even more sacrifice to make everything fall into place. But for tonight, she just wanted a break from the weight of it all. Just a few minutes of peace. She closed her eyes, exhaling a long breath as she tried to empty her mind, willing herself to relax.

It wasn’t long before another thought slipped into her head—Azzi. This time, instead of adding weight, like everything else, it brought a sense of comfort. Azzi wasn’t like anyone else in Paige’s life. Thinking about Azzi didn’t tighten her chest or add more confusion to her already overwhelming thoughts. When her mind drifted to Azzi, everything else seemed to fade into the background. Because she knew Azzi didn’t expect anything from her. Azzi wasn’t asking Paige to be anyone but herself—she didn’t have any preconceived notions about who Paige used to be. The girl on the other end of those late-night Facetimes only knew Paige from what she’d shared. The thoughts she had were based on the present, not some past version of Paige.

That was the thing that should've terrified Paige. She wasn’t used to feeling so... seen, without the weight of what others thought she should be or the pressure of always having to do the right thing. Azzi didn’t ask for any of that. The simplicity of their connection, how natural it felt, should have sent her running in the opposite direction, a voice in the back of her mind telling her it was too easy, too comfortable for the kind of world they lived in. They hadn’t even had a serious conversation about what they were or what they had going on—and yet, Paige didn’t worry about it.

She should’ve been terrified of how she felt about Azzi already–it had only been a few months. But for some reason, anytime she thought about her, the only thing Paige felt was calmness. She rarely thought about it if she was being honest. It just felt right. Everything about Azzi felt... right. Like the pieces of her life, of their connection, were meant to fall into place in the way they had.

As Paige lay there, still, her mind slowing down for the first time that night she couldn’t help but smile a little. The thought of being around Azzi all the time, physically being with her instead of having to hear her voice through a phone. Being able to physically touch her. It all seemed too good to be true, but Paige didn’t worry about that—she thought just maybe that the universe was finally repaying her.

Third Person POV - March 2024

After taking a shower Paige sat on the edge of her hotel bed, the soft glow of her phone illuminating her face as she idly scrolled, waiting. The room itself was silent, but Paige’s mind was buzzing with anticipation. She knew it was only a matter of time before Azzi texted her or called. It always happened that way after games.

She leaned back against the pillows, letting out a slow breath as she glanced at the time. UConn had won their Sweet Sixteen game against Duke earlier that night, and unknowingly to Azzi, Paige had been there to witness it. She had come down with her dad and Drew, who hadn’t seen UConn play in person yet. The three of them had seats in the stands, and while it felt strange watching from far, Paige loved the experience.

Her dad and Drew were sharing a room down the hall, while she had her own. Now, alone in her room, Paige found herself sitting, waiting—because she knew Azzi would reach out. Azzi never let too much time pass without talking to her.

Right on cue, her phone buzzed. “You up?”

Paige chuckled to herself, shaking her head before typing out a response.

Paige 💗You a 16-year-old boy now?

Azzi’s reply came almost immediately.

Azzi <3 Lol I’ll take that as a yes

Paige smirked, stretching one of her arms over her head before texting back.

Paige 💗I was waiting on you

Azzi <3 Oh yeah?

Paige💗Yeah.

The typing bubbles appeared for a moment before disappearing, and then suddenly, Paige’s screen lit up with an incoming FaceTime call. Her smirk deepened as she swiped to answer, settling back against the pillows.

When the call connected, all Paige could see was the bathroom ceiling, but she could hear Azzi’s voice.

"Why are you always flirting with me?"

Paige laughed. "Cause you like it."

"No, I don’t," Azzi shot back, but there was no real conviction behind her words—it was clearly a lie.

Paige raised an eyebrow, playing along. "No?"

"No," Azzi repeated, but Paige could hear the slight waver in her voice.

Paige chuckled. "Why not?"

There was a pause before Azzi mumbled, "Because all it does is make me sexually frustrated."

Paige smirked at that, biting her lip before saying, "Lemme fix that for you, then."

"Paige, please," Azzi groaned, still off-screen.

Paige chuckled. "Please what?"

"I really can’t handle that today," Azzi muttered. "I won’t be alone for the next week, and I already feel like I’m about to explode."

Paige hummed, amused at Azzi’s frustration. "That’s not a problem."

She heard Azzi groan again, making her chuckle. "Azzi, come to the camera."

There was a beat of silence, then a soft shuffle. A few seconds later, Azzi finally appeared with a towel wrapped around her, clearly fresh out of the shower.

"Where are you?" she asked, scanning Paige’s unfamiliar background.

Paige tilted her head slightly. "My hotel room."

Azzi's expression was filled with confusion. "What? You’re done with visits."

Paige grinned. "That’s what I been tryna tell you." Then, more sincerely, she added, "You played great today, by the way."

Azzi smiled at the compliment before quickly piecing together what Paige was saying. "Wait—you’re here? In Portland?"

Paige simply nodded, watching as realization dawned on Azzi’s face. A grin spread as soon as the realization sank in.

"What room are you in?" she asked, her voice carrying an excitement that wasn’t there before.

"617," Paige answered smoothly.

Azzi didn’t hesitate. "I’ll be down there soon."

Paige hummed in response as Azzi hung up the phone.

A few minutes later a sharp knock at the door shocked Paige a little, but she didn’t hesitate when she got up to answer it. She swung it open without even checking the peephole, already knowing exactly who was on the other side.

Before she could fully take in Azzi’s appearance—her damp hair, the cropped shirt she must’ve thrown on in a hurry—Azzi rushed forward, crashing their lips together.

The kiss from Azzi is urgent and unrestrained. Paige stumbles back a little, her hands instinctively gripping Azzi’s waist as she pulls her in, making sure neither of them lose their balance. The door swings shut behind them with a loud thud, the only sound in the room now is their heavy breaths as they press closer to one another.

Azzi’s hands find Paige’s jaw, tilting her head to deepen the kiss, while Paige steadies them both, her fingers slipping beneath the loose cropped shirt Azzi has on. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing—just unspoken longing spilling over now that they’re finally in the same place again.

After what feels like an eternity of them standing there, Azzi pulls back just enough to whisper against Paige’s lips, “You really didn’t think to tell me you were here?”

Paige smirks, her hands still on Azzi’s waist. “Figured a surprise was more fun.”

Azzi huffs out a small laugh before tugging Paige back in, shaking her head as she mumbles, “You’re ridiculous.” But she doesn’t seem to think so when Paige’s tongue slides in her mouth.

They move together, stumbling but somehow in sync, until they reach the foot of the bed. Despite how frantic it seems, Paige is careful—guiding them, making sure Azzi doesn’t trip over anything in her rush. They stay standing at the foot of the bed for a moment, lost in one another, lips moving, hands exploring like they’re memorizing the feeling of each other.

Then Azzi pulls back just enough, her fingers slipping under the hem of Paige’s shirt. Paige lifts her arms, letting Azzi tug it over her head. The second it’s gone, Azzi discards her own shirt and doesn’t waste another moment before pulling her back in, her lips crashing into Paige’s.

Paige chuckles against her mouth, breaking the kiss just enough to murmur, “Baby, slow down—” her hands find Azzi’s waist, thumbs smoothing over her skin as she whispers, “Lemme see you.”

Azzi, still a little dazed, blinks at Paige and murmurs, “What did you just call me?”

Paige chuckles, shaking her head as she tries to play it off. “Nothing,” she says casually. “I said, lemme see you.”

Azzi doesn’t press—at least, not yet. Instead, she lowers herself onto the bed, looking up at Paige through her eyelashes, the corners of her lips tugging up just slightly.

Paige exhales, rolling her eyes playfully. “Don’t look at me like that.” She steps closer, brushing her thumb along Azzi’s chin, her touch impossibly gentle despite the tension crackling between them.

Azzi tilts her head, feigning innocence. “Like what?”

Paige groans, her fingers curling under Azzi’s chin as she mutters, “Like that.”

Azzi just blinks up at her, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Paige exhales sharply, shaking her head as she steps back. “You know what you’re doing,” she mutters, turning away.

Azzi simply shrugs. “Maybe.”

She watches as Paige leans against the desk across from the bed. Azzi takes her in, letting her gaze roam—Paige’s hair pulled back in a loose bun, her diamond earrings catching the light, the black shorts sitting on her hips, paired with a black Nike sports bra. And then there’s her cross necklace, resting just above her chest.

Azzi smirks. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Paige lifts an eyebrow, silently challenging the question. Like what?

Azzi shakes her head, her smile deepening. “Come here.”

Paige pushes off the desk and walks over, looking at Azzi the entire time. The moment she’s close enough, Azzi reaches for her necklace, curling her fingers around it as she gives a gentle tug, pulling Paige down toward her on the bed.

Paige hovers over Azzi, smiling down at her, amusement flickering in her eyes. Azzi meets her gaze, fingers still curled around the necklace. She gives it another tug, just enough to bring Paige down to her level, and their lips meet again—this one is slower, more intimate, as if they’re finally allowing themselves to just exist in this moment.

There’s no urgency, no frantic need to make up for lost time.

Paige starts to pull away, but Azzi’s fingers tighten around the chain, keeping her close. Their lips reconnect, and Paige can’t help but smile into it, letting out a soft chuckle at Azzi’s persistence. Azzi hums against her mouth, clearly pleased with herself, and Paige deepens the kiss for just a second longer before murmuring against her lips, “So this is how it is, huh?”

Azzi hums in response, deepening the kiss, and Paige lets her, letting herself sink into the warmth of it as Azzi’s fingers stay wrapped around her necklace, keeping her close, as if she’s afraid Paige will disappear if she lets go.

After a while, both of their lips are raw when Paige pulls back just enough to murmur, “I gotta tell you something.”

Azzi doesn’t release her immediately, stealing a few more kisses before finally loosening her grip on the chain. Paige smirks at the reluctance before pulling back slightly, still hovering over Azzi.

Azzi tilts her head, her fingers fully undoing Paige’s bun that she messed up. “What?”

Paige exhales softly, then says it as casually as if she’s commenting on the weather. “I’m coming to UConn.”

Azzi blinks up at her, the words not quite registering at first. “What?”

Paige chuckles, brushing a loose curl from Azzi’s face. “I’m transferring to UConn.”

The grin that spreads across Azzi’s face is instant and huge, her excitement practically radiating off of her. Without thinking, she wraps her arms around Paige and pulls her into a hug, the force of it making Paige collapse onto her with a laugh.

Azzi holds on tight, her face buried in Paige’s shoulder, her voice muffled as she says, “Are you serious?”

Paige just laughs again, wrapping her arms around Azzi in return. "Yeah. I'm serious."

Azzi pulls back slightly, looking at Paige with surprise. "When did you tell Geno?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity.

Paige shrugs. "I haven't yet. I wanted to tell you first."

Azzi’s expression softens, a wide grin spreading across her face. "You wanted to tell me first?"

Paige nods, her gaze softening as she meets Azzi’s eyes. "Yeah."

Azzi smirks, leaning up slightly. "Aww, that’s sweet."

Paige rolls her eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "Alright, shut up," she mumbles, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

Azzi chuckles, clearly enjoying the moment. "I’m just saying. It’s cute."

Paige exhales a quiet laugh, rolling her eyes as she mutters, "Whatever," before leaning back down to kiss Azzi.

This time, the kiss is slower, deeper—Paige’s weight pressing into Azzi completely as their lips move in sync. Azzi feels the warmth of Paige’s body against hers, the way Paige’s knee slides in between her legs. She lets herself sink into it, her hands finding their way to Paige’s sides, fingers curling against her skin as she pulls her closer.

The moment is so consuming that it takes a second before Azzi realizes where her hands are—right over the scar. The very place Paige had once pulled her away from, tensing at her touch.

Azzi stills, her breath hitching as she pulls back slightly, ready to apologize, but before she can say a word, she notices that Paige hasn’t moved away.

She’s still there, still hovering over her, her blue eyes looking a little shocked but still soft as they search Azzi’s face. There’s a little hesitation in her eyes but no discomfort—then slowly just a quiet acceptance.

Azzi barely has time to process it before Paige leans back down, capturing her lips in another kiss, deeper this time. It’s slow and almost calculated, as if Paige is telling her without words that it’s okay. That she wants this. That she wants her. At this, Azzi flips them over, her movements instinctual, and suddenly, she’s the one hovering over Paige. Paige lets out a quiet breath of surprise, her blue eyes flickering with something unreadable—something Azzi has come to know all too well.

Azzi doesn’t give her time to think too much. She dips down, trailing her lips along the sharp curve of Paige’s jaw, then lower, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Paige licks her lips at the feeling, willing her body to relax beneath Azzi’s as she sighs slightly, her fingers brushing along Azzi’s back.

Azzi smiles against Paige’s chest, taking her time, savoring every second of this—of Paige letting her in, letting her touch her like this. She feels Paige shift slightly beneath her again, feels Paige pulling her closer, and the small action makes something warm bloom in Azzi’s chest.

So she keeps going, kissing down the column of Paige’s throat, feeling her pulse racing beneath her lips, feeling the way Paige’s breath hitches every time she lingers just a second too long.

Paige couldn’t help but sigh at how soft Azzi’s lips felt against her throat, how warm and steady she felt hovering over her. It was effortless—the way Azzi moved, the way she kissed her, like she had all the time in the world. She was making sure to kiss every part of Paige’s neck, every inch of exposed skin, trailing lower with no rush, no hesitation.

Both of them had a soft appreciation for this moment. For Azzi, it was about memorizing Paige like this—unworried by the outside world, just them, just this. And for Paige, it was about allowing herself to let go, even if just for a little while.

She knew, from all their late-night FaceTime calls, that Azzi understood her in a way not many people did. Azzi knew that Paige didn’t like giving up control—that it wasn’t in her nature, that her brain basically screamed at her when she wasn’t in control of something. She knew that Paige always had to be the one holding the reins, the one dictating the pace, the one leading.

But right now, Paige wasn’t doing that.

Right now, she was letting Azzi take the lead. She was willing herself to trust the girl hovering above her. And the way Azzi handled her, with such care and patience, made it feel easier than she thought it would be.

Azzi watches Paige closely as she trails lower, her lips brushing over her skin, her hands smoothing over Paige’s sides. When she glances up, all she sees is Paige with her eyes closed, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. She smiles at the sight, at the trust Paige is giving her, and then she dips back down, kissing every inch of her stomach with the same patience she had when she started.

But when she reaches the scar, she hesitates. Because it’s a tricky thing—she can’t ignore this part of Paige, wouldn’t want to, but she also knows it’s sensitive, both physically and emotionally.

So, she starts slowly. A soft kiss. She feels Paige’s stomach tense slightly beneath her, the smallest shift, but she doesn’t tell her to stop.

So she places another kiss. Then another. Azzi takes her time, shifting her lips along every part of the scar, not missing an inch. She even moves to Paige’s side, making sure to trail her kisses as far as she can.

When she finally looks up, Paige’s eyes are open now, watching Azzi’s every move.

Then, Paige’s hand moves.

Azzi stills when she feels the gentle brush of Paige’s thumb against her cheek. She leans into it instinctively, closing her eyes for a brief second before looking back at her.

Paige is watching her, something unreadable in her expression, but there’s absolutely no hesitation in the way she touches her.

Azzi turns her head slightly, pressing a kiss to Paige’s palm before murmuring, “You okay?”

Paige nods. “Yeah.”

Azzi’s smile is soft as she moves back up, her lips finding Paige’s. As their mouths move together, her hand drifts lower, sliding easily into Paige’s shorts where she runs her fingers against Paige. The touch is barely there, but it pulls a reaction from Paige immediately—a low, involuntary sound escaping her lips.

Azzi chuckles, pulling back just enough to murmur, “You good?”

Paige nods, her breath a little uneven. “Mhm,” she manages, but then Azzi is sliding into Paige, settling completely before she’s pulling them out again agonizingly slow. Paige’s eyelids flutter as she exhales shakily, her voice coming out softer now, more like a whisper. “That feels good…”

Azzi smiles against her lips, happy with the effect she’s having on her. So she keeps the slow pace going, feeling the way Paige subtly arches into each time she curls her fingers. After some time, when she feels Paige getting a little more urgent in her movements, Azzi pulls away from the kiss. Creating just enough space between them to take in Paige’s face fully. To see her reactions.

Paige opens her eyes to look up at her, blue eyes heavy, but locked onto Azzi’s with an intensity that makes Azzi’s breath catch. There’s something about the way she’s looking at her—like she’s completely lost in her.

Azzi’s voice is quiet as she whispers. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Paige swallows hard at that, something deep in her chest tightening, like she might explode under the weight of those words. Her fingers flex against Azzi’s back as she struggles to find a response, but the truth is, she doesn’t need to say anything—Azzi already knows.

The way Azzi is looking at her, like she’s the only thing that matters in the world—makes her heart pound faster. Feeling Azzi move in and out of her almost perfectly, sends a warmth spreading through Paige’s entire body. She feels overwhelmed, not just by the sensation but by the way Azzi is completely focused on her, on every reaction she’s having.

Paige swallows, her throat suddenly dry. “Azzi…” she whispers out, not even sure what she wants to say.

Azzi just smiles, dipping her head down to brush her lips against Paige’s again. “I mean it,” she whispers against her mouth. “You’re so beautiful Paige.”

Paige exhales shakily, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s back, like she needs to hold onto something solid to keep herself from falling apart completely. “…Shut up,” she finally mumbles, but there’s no real bite to it.

Azzi raises her eyebrows, surprised by this response. But then she’s smiling because Paige’s blue eyes are completely hazy, her chest is rising and falling quicker now, her body reacting in ways she’s clearly struggling to control as she throws her head back against the pillow.

“Fuck— I’m sorry, I just—” Paige starts, but she can’t finish, her voice becoming unsteady. Azzi just chuckles, continuing her pace but adding a little pressure as she slides her knee in between Paige’s legs.

“It’s okay,” Azzi reassures her, keeping her voice gentle. “I know.”

But Paige’s breathing only stutters more, her body tense beneath Azzi. Azzi lowers her head near Paige’s ear. “Relax, baby.”

Paige takes a sharp inhale at hearing Azzi whisper in her ear, her fingers gripping Azzi’s arm tightly. Still, she listens—taking a deep unsteady breath, forcing herself to settle.

Azzi kisses the corner of her jaw, feeling the tension in Paige’s body start to unravel beneath her. “That’s it,” she whispers, dragging her lips along Paige’s skin as she speeds up her movements.

Paige swallows hard. “Azzi I—”

“Sshhh,” Azzi soothes, as she adjusts so she has more room to keep her pace. “I know.”

And then Paige is tensing under her all over again.

Paige’s words come out choked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think I can…I can’t…it’s—”

Azzi lifts her head, “Look at me,” she murmurs.

Paige forces her eyes open, her eyelids are low and her eyes are unfocused as they lock onto Azzi’s. Once their eyes lock Azzi slows her pace again, curling her fingers perfectly every time she moves. Making sure Paige feels her.

“Just relax for me,” Azzi whispers.

Paige swallows, nodding once, never breaking eye contact as she takes another deep breath. As soon as she does that it hits—her body trembling, breath hitching, fingers tightening against Azzi’s back.

Azzi leans down, immediately taking Paige’s lips in her own, swallowing every shaky breath, every quiet whimper, every moan, until Paige finally starts to settle beneath her.

Before Azzi even knows what’s happening, Paige is flipping them over. When she does this, she’s a lot more feverish than Azzi was, her lips trailing down Azzi’s jaw, sucking and nipping along the way, like she can’t get enough of her.

Azzi, already worked up just from watching Paige, takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “Fuck Paige—”

Paige hums against her skin, the sound vibrating through Azzi’s body.

Azzi exhales shakily. “I really can’t wait. It’s been too long.”

Paige lifts her head, her pupils dilated, she nods once before leaning back down, sealing her lips over Azzi’s again.

Paige easily slides her hand into Azzi’s pajama shorts and groans when there’s no other barrier and she immediately feels how ready Azzi is for her. Paige whispers out, “Fuck baby, why you didn’t tell me.” Before Azzi can respond Paige is easily sliding her fingers into Azzi.

As soon as Paige does this, Azzi’s breath hitches, and she mumbles, ���Oh god.” Paige smirks, feeling the heat radiating from Azzi’s body as she easily takes her in.

Azzi, already feeling the tug in her stomach, grabs Paige’s waist and pulls her closer, the weight of Paige on top of her having Azzi closing her eyes in relief. She runs her hands up and down Paige’s back, her breath growing shallow. “I miss you so much,” Azzi murmurs.

Paige leans down to kiss her. “I miss you, too pretty girl,” she replies softly.

Azzi exhales a quiet, needy sound at the nickname, she wraps her arms tightly around Paige’s shoulders and hooks her legs around Paige’s waist, using the leverage to pull her closer. A low groan escapes her lips as Paige presses deeper into her, her fingers tangling into Paige’s hair seeking any piece of her she can get.

A few moments later, Azzi’s phone rings from the nightstand, popping the bubble they created. The first time, Azzi ignores it, her attention completely on the way Paige is making her feel, but then it rings again. Again, she ignores it, letting Paige continue, her hands never leaving Paige’s head, but when it rings a third time, Azzi can’t ignore it anymore.

With a deep sigh, she reaches over to grab the phone, still breathing unevenly from the way Paige feels inside of her. She glances at the screen and sees Caroline’s name flashing.

Azzi sighs again, this time louder, her chest tightening. Paige, noticing the change, starts to shift off of her, but Azzi grabs her, shaking her head, “No… don’t,” she says softly, pushing Paige’s head into her neck. Paige is a little surprised at this but she complies with what Azzi wants as she starts placing open mouth kisses to Azzi’s neck, curling her fingers as she does it.

Reluctantly, Azzi answers the phone, her voice completely breathy as she says, “Yes, Caroline?”

Caroline’s voice comes through the phone. “You have 15 minutes.” And before Azzi can respond, Caroline hangs up, already knowing exactly what Azzi is doing.

Azzi throws her phone somewhere and immediately pulls Paige back into a kiss, this time more urgent. Both of them are aware of the time slipping away, and the need to be close is almost overwhelming.

Paige, knowing what she needs to do to speed the process up for Azzi, adjusts so she can use her thumb adding slow soft circles to the mix as she continues to curl her fingers.

It doesn’t take long for Azzi’s body to shake under Paige’s touch, her breath coming in shallow bursts as her hands tighten around Paige. She tries to speak, but the words don’t come out clearly, her chest heaving with every shaky exhale.

“P-Paige…Yes—” she stammers, struggling to find her voice as Paige’s continues to work in and out of her, drawing another tremor from her. “Fuck—” Her hands find Paige’s back, trying to pull her impossibly closer, her fingers digging into her skin as she gasps. “I… want you... so much...”

Azzi’s words slip into a breathless murmur, almost incoherent. Paige slows her rhythm as she helps Azzi ride out the sensation, her smile growing as she watches her.

“You have me,” Paige whispers, pressing her forehead to Azzi’s as they both savor the moment.

They stay just like that for a second, both of them breathing deeply, still feeling the weight of each other. There’s a quiet, unspoken understanding between them as they both lay there, hearts still racing in sync.

Paige breaks the silence with a soft murmur, “You gotta go.”

Azzi exhales slowly, her body still warm beneath Paige’s, but the words don’t seem to make her move just yet. She pulls Paige closer instead, pressing a kiss to her lips before she mumbles, “I know.”

Even as she says it, Azzi’s hands tangle in Paige’s hair, and the kiss turns more urgent. The heat between them grows again, their lips moving together perfectly, tasting each other in a way that seems to say they’re not ready to let go, not yet.

But eventually, Azzi pulls away, her chest rising and falling. She gives Paige one last lingering look before she’s tapping her to stand up. Once Paige rolls off of her, Azzi stands, stretching and crossing the room to grab Paige’s discarded shirt from the floor, easily slipping it over her head.

Paige smirks, her eyes following Azzi’s every movement, and as she stands up from the bed she says. “Look at you, putting on my shirt. Ms. ‘Don’t get used to it.’”

Azzi rolls her eyes, as she slips her Uggs back on. Paige mirrors the move, grabbing her phone and keycard, ready to walk Azzi upstairs.

Azzi’s voice breaks the quiet. “You’re not going to put on a shirt?”

Paige laughs, glancing down at herself. “You kinda sorta stole mine.”

Azzi laughs softly, nodding. “Fair enough.” She watches as Paige glances at herself in the mirror, her jaw tightening just slightly before she looks toward Azzi.

“I should be fine. It’s pretty late.”

Azzi nods, grabbing her hand and the two of them step out of the room, walking down the hall toward the elevator. The walk feels too short and they reach Azzi’s door before they know it.

Azzi reaches out first, pulling Paige toward her in one more kiss. It's slow, a little messy—her lips pressing against Paige's with a delicate urgency. Azzi’s arms slide over Paige’s shoulders, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of Paige’s neck and Paige responds, her hands wrapping around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in closer.

But then the door to Azzi’s room swings open, and Caroline peeks her head out. She doesn’t seem surprised by what she sees, “You deadass have like a minute.”

Like most people, because humans truly can’t help it, her eyes flicker down to Paige’s exposed torso, and Paige immediately notices the look.

The moment shifts, the lightness of Paige’s energy almost vanishing as she steps back from Azzi. Her jaw tightens, her fingers subconsciously starting to fiddle with the ring on her finger. She clears her throat, putting a little more distance between them. “I’ll text you, okay?” she says, her voice quieter now, and Azzi nods, understanding the sudden shift.

Paige takes one last look at Azzi, giving her a small smile then turns to walk away.

As Azzi and Caroline walk into the suite. Caroline watches as Azzi shuts the door and as soon as Azzi starts walking towards her bed, Caroline can’t help herself. “What was that?” she asks, her voice light with curiosity.

Azzi glances at her but doesn’t pause in her movement. “That was a kiss,” she answers simply.

Caroline raises an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with that response. She shifts slightly on the couch. “Obviously. But I’m not talking about that.”

Azzi stops in her tracks, knowing exactly where this conversation is headed. She takes a breath, turns, and faces Caroline. “Then what was what?”

Caroline is persistent, but her tone is soft and inquisitive, rather than pushy. “She had this huge scar on her side. I saw it when you were...you know. What’s going on with that?” Caroline’s eyes flicker with concern, showing she’s not trying to pry in a harsh way.

“It’s nothing,” Azzi says simply, keeping her voice neutral.

Caroline frowns, not convinced. “Azzi, that’s not nothing,” she says gently. “Is she okay?”

Azzi finally looks at Caroline. “She is.”

Caroline senses the finality in Azzi’s words and nods slowly, her curiosity still piqued, but understanding that Azzi isn’t going to share more. “Alright. I get it,” Caroline says, leaning back on the couch, not pressing any further.

True to Paige's word, as Azzi climbs into bed, her phone buzzes. She picks it up with a smile, seeing Paige's name light up the screen. Her fingers quickly swipe across the screen.

Paige💗You good?

Azzi reads the text and replies with a single word, followed by another.

Azzi <3 Course

Azzi <3 Why wouldn’t I be?

A few moments later, Paige responds.

Paige💗We kinda rushed for you.

Azzi’s chest warms a little at that. She pauses before texting back.

Azzi <3 You’re sweet

Azzi <3 Truly

Azzi <3 But the word "quickie" exists for a reason

Paige’s reaction comes through quickly — adding a laughing reaction to the message. Before adding

Paige💗Just wanted to make sure.

As Paige and Azzi continue their text exchange, a knock at the door interrupts the rhythm of the conversation for a second. Caroline glances over before moving to answer it, pulling the door open just enough to see who’s there.

CD stands in the hallway, her expression neutral as she steps just inside the room. Her gaze scans the space, quickly landing on Azzi sitting up on her bed, phone in hand. CD gives a small, satisfied nod, completing her room check, but her eyes linger for a second longer when she notices the shirt Azzi is wearing—the familiar bold Minnesota lettering printed across the front.

If CD has any thoughts about it, she doesn’t voice them. Instead, she offers a simple, “Goodnight, girls.” She doesn’t wait for a response, turning on her heel and pulling the door shut behind her.

Azzi chuckles under her breath, shaking her head slightly before turning her attention back to her phone, her fingers resuming their steady taps against the screen. Her smile growing as she sends another message to Paige.

Meanwhile, Caroline moves through the dim room, flipping off the last light before climbing into her bed.

Azzi remains awake, the faint glow of her phone illuminating her face as she continues the constant back-and-forth with Paige.

[heartsforjh]

reader having big crowd anxiety and qhughes picking up on it leading her through the crowd? 🥲

here you go nonnie! i hope you like! :)

main masterlist | 100 follower celly masterlist

As your boyfriend opens the door for you, a wave of loud talking and laughter hits you immediately. It always amazes you how many people come to these events for Quinn’s work. It’s easy to forget the amount of effort that goes into those fun little games on ice.

You step inside, glancing around as the herd of people closest to the door turns toward you. Naturally, their gaze lingers on Quinn—and then shift to you, standing right beside him. Quinn waves to a few people as the two of you move deeper into the room.

“We’ve gotta find the guys. They’re around here somewhere,” Quinn says, scanning the room.

You nod quickly. Surely being around familiar faces will help ease the nerves that are already starting to build up from all of the attention.

You squeeze his hand, trying to focus on the warmth and pressure of his grip as he holds yours. “Yeah, let’s find them.”

He leads you through the bustling crowd until he eventually spots Elias Pettersson and Conor Garland.

“Hey, you two,” Conor greets, pulling both you and Quinn in for hugs, with Petey following suit.

Quinn’s hand finds its place on your waist as he settles into conversation with his friends. You chime in here and there when something catches your interest, the comfort of their company gradually putting you at ease.

For a while, you feel better, laughing and chatting with the small group. But that changes the second your purse slips from your hand and falls to the ground with a thud. Instinctively, you look around to see if anyone notices, expecting a few fleeting glances.

Your stomach drops when you’re reminded just how many people are around, and they’re all staring. Not just glancing, but staring. Why are they staring? Their eyes linger, waiting—maybe for you to pick it up. The pit in your stomach grows as you start wondering what they might be thinking.

Your chest immediately tightens. The room feels louder and everyone seems closer. When did they get so close? Your chest moves up and down rapidly, desperately trying to get a full breath, but the air gets stuck in your throat.

“Babe, you okay?” Quinn’s voice cuts through the haze, grounding you.

You blink, and suddenly the world is back in focus. He’s holding your purse, having picked it up amidst your small panic.

“I’m- I’m fine,” you stammer, unconvincingly.

Quinn’s eyes search yours, concern etched across his face. “You’re shaking, sweetheart.” His tone is gentle, careful not to draw any more unwanted attention to you.

“I told you—I’m okay,” you insist, but your body betrays you with a slight sway.

Quinn sighs softly, placing his hands on your hips to steady you. “Well, this isn’t okay with me. Come on, let’s go talk.”

Taking your hand, he quietly leads you out of the crowded party room and into the hallway.

Once outside, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, trying to calm your racing heart. “Quinn, we don’t have to do this. We should go back in—this is for your job.”

“Y/n, baby, we can go if that’s what you need. It’s just a New Year’s party. We’ll do our own New Years at home,” he assures you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You sigh, guilt creeping in. “I just feel selfish. You’re the face of the Canucks—people are going to stare. You shouldn’t have to miss this just because I’m… freaking out.”

Quinn shakes his head, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he cups your face in his hands. “You don’t have to get used to anything. You’re dealing with something, and that’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong. Besides, I can’t enjoy this if I know my girl’s struggling, can I?”

His words melt some of your worries, and a small smile breaks through. “No, I guess not.”

“Also,” he adds with a small grin, “between you and me, I didn’t want to come to this thing anyway.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Wow, so you’re just using me as an excuse to ditch?!”

“What? No! That’s not what I was trying to say! I meant—” his eyes widen, and he fumbles over his words, making you giggle.

“You know what I meant!” he huffs, shaking his head. “You’re a jerk.”

“It was just a joke!” you tease, still laughing as you walk towards the exit with him, hand-in-hand.

Quinn gives a small, dramatic pout. “Why are you so mean to me?”

“I’m not mean to you! I was kidding!” you repeat while laughing even more at his reaction.

Secretly, he’s overjoyed to hear you laughing, even if it is at his expense. He’d gladly let himself be the punchline to your jokes as long as he gets to hear that favorite sound of his.

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[emsdevs]

🎁 14 with quinn 👀

a/n: kirby my love, this one is for you 🧡 i know you love your angst

Prompt 14: "Please. Please just listen to me."

Birthday Celly 2025 Masterlist | masterlist

You never thought it would come to this. You thought you and Quinn were forever. Everything had been perfect until you had started seeing less and less of him. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been on a date, and he barely held a conversation with you now. You knew bringing it up would be difficult, but you hadn’t imagined it would blow up like this.

“Quinn, we barely talk anymore! When was the last time you kissed me? A real kiss, not some reflexive kiss on the cheek when you get home from a roadie!” you weren’t sure when it started, but the two of you have been shouting back and forth so long your throat is starting to feel scratchy.

“That’s not fair! Do you know how busy I am?”

“Oh, trust me I know! The only thing I hear about anymore is the Canucks! The team needs this! The team can’t do that! God, Quinn, even when you were hurt and had absolutely no business being on that ice, you couldn’t shut up about your team! Sometimes, it’s like you forget I even exist! Like I’m just some housemaid or someone to come to when you need relief! Except we don’t even do that anymore do we?”

“Maybe it’s because you’re so clingy! I mean, Jesus, I barely get a moment to myself! You’re so obsessed with me! This isn’t even that serious!” 

Your face goes blank the second the words leave his mouth. This isn’t even that serious? He didn’t tell you he wanted to break up, but with those five words, Quinn just ended your relationship.

“It isn’t that serious?” you’re fuming now, and he can tell by how level your voice is. “So what? You’ve been stringing me along for over two years? Let me move in? You remember me having to get permanent residency for this right? All of that and it’s not serious?”

“Babe don’t-”

“No you’re right, Quinn. I’m leaving. You can have your space back. I’d hate to take it anymore since you so obviously don’t want me here,” you head to what was a shared bedroom not even two hours ago. You pack all your bags, at least what you would need for a couple of days, and Quinn does nothing but stand there and watch. He doesn’t speak up again until you’re leaving the bedroom and heading for the front door with your suitcase in tow.

“Baby, c’mon. You’re being dramatic. Where are you even gonna stay?”

“Oh, no! Clingy and dramatic! Guess I really need to get out of your hair then. And where I’m staying is not of your concern anymore,” you roll your eyes, attempting to continue on your path to the door when he blocks it.

“Please. Please just listen to me. It doesn’t have to end like this. We don’t have to end like this,” he’s begging now, and as pitiful as he looks, you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You’re tired of sitting around, waiting for him to give you attention like some dog sitting at the door waiting for its owner to return. You have to get out.

“Just stop, Quinn. It’s done. We’re done. No second chances. I’ve given you too many to begin with. If you didn’t want this to end, you should’ve tried harder to keep me before it was too late. Hopefully, you can find someone a little less clingy and obsessive.”

You walk away, not looking back once the door is shut. You just closed a huge chapter in your life. Anyone else would probably be rejoicing right now, basking in the feeling of being free from a situation that wasn’t good. Somehow, though, you can’t help but feel like this might have been a mistake.

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[angelesca]

🌹🌹"weeeeeelcome to 'the worst dating show in hsr'! i'm your host, angelesca(no one cares🙄), and today, we'll find out who will be your lucky valentine's date this year, based on a crappy personality test~" ft. the victims candidates: mydei, dan heng, stelle n' caelus, and phainon!

rules:

for each question, decide which applies to you most - remember to keep tally of the letters you choose (will determine your valentine's date~)!

other notes:

total of 9 very unoriginal questions

five endings (who you end up with!💗) + a song to match from my trash playlist!

this is a post meant for fun! my headcanons will not line up with everyone else's, but hopefully i didn't do them too bad😭

mentions of hugging and kissing, but nothing beyond that😎

the game show is about to begin! lights, camera, action!

thanks for deciding to take part in the game! let's start with the first question:

Q1] pick a season!

a] winter

b] summer

c] spring

d] autumn

Q2] what's your fav food/most likely to eat?

a] noodle soup, phở, ramen

b] spicy, hot wings, mala hot pot, or foods with acquired tastes

c] cake, biscuits and tea/cookies and milk, parfaits

d] whatever is convenient, or you don't have much preference

Q3] plan your ideal valentine's date!

a] dining out, relaxing spa day/museum trip, shopping spree

b] amusement park, arcade, photo booths and cute accessories

c] going for a drive, stargazing, cosy picnic with fairylights

d] staying in, watching a film under blankets, playing boardgames

Q4] choose a valentine's gift!

a] flowers and chocolates

b] stuffed animal

c] jewellery

d] handwritten poem/letter

Q5] what's your fav trope out of these?

a] forbidden love/star-crossed love

b] childhood friends to lovers/soulmates

c] rivals (or enemies) to lovers/opposites attract

d] fake dating/workplace romance

Q6] pick an ideal love language for your partner!

a] words of affirmation

b] gifting

c] physical touch or acts of service

d] quality time

Q7] what are the most important qualities you look for in a partner?

a] outgoing, flirty, romantic!

b] quirky, humorous, spontaneous!

c] headstrong, loyal, protective!

d] intelligent, calm, reliable!

Q8] there's a pink cupcake on the table. how do you eat it? (help im running out of ideas)

a] the conventional way, unwrapping it and using your hands to eat. nothing fancy

b] twist it in half and stack it so you can eat it like a burger

c] with a knife and fork, or chopsticks, anything to not make a mess

d] remove the frosting and eat just the cake, or eating them separately

Q9] lastly, pick a cheesy and cringey pick-up line! (that i totally didn't steal from the internet)

a] "remember me? oh, that's right, i've only met you in my dreams."

b] "my love for you is like diarrhea, i just can't hold it in!"

c] "i'm not good at holding conversations. can i hold your hand instead?"

d] "forget hydrogen. you're my number one element."

⚔️ if you got mostly a's... 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐧 is your valentine's date! ♪♫ angel - alice phoebe lou ♪♫ extroverted, easygoing, well-liked by everyone! flirty, romantic, always planning dates like they are anniversaries. any praise will make him shy despite his confidence, lots of blushing. gentleman fr, loves hand-holding, guides you softly with his hand on your lower back, will not kiss you first - only when you want to initiate it! will get clingy if you two are separated for some time, sends teleslate messages every morning and likes using cute puppy stickers. compliments you at every corner, makes you feel like you're in the centre of his universe, looooots of affirmations of his love for you! but behind all the smiles and extravaganza, hides secrets and a pained past unveiled... keep an ear open to let him know you're there for him!

🎇 if you got mostly b's... 𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔞𝔢𝔩𝔲𝔰/trailblazer are(is) your valentine's date! ♪♫ it was love - yena ♪♫ there's never a dull moment! spontaneous, adventurous, hard to predict their next moves. loves to make you laugh, expressive, will make a fool out of themselves, always goes along with your ideas and jokes, will heal your inner child! loves clinging to your arm, crawls into your bed at night. looooves gifting you! almost always a box in front of your door, filled with trinkets and gadgets that reminded them of you (was it found in a trashcan? welllll it's the thought that counts, right?). all their medals gained from trailblazing are given to you just to impress you! hoards all your gifts, their room might as well be yours. clumsy, never dated before so this is a new journey for them. make sure to tell them if they accidentally upset you! they're willing to learn and understand.

🍷 if you got mostly c's... ʍʏɖɛɨ is your valentine's date! ♪♫ honey - porch light ♪♫ an undying loyalty, his exterior seems tough, some bickering and competition at the start, but he eventually melts, a passionate love behind closed doors revealed to you only. small and quiet gestures like making you walk the inside of the pavement, carrying heavy baggage, always helping you even if unprompted. will send anyone who wrongs you into orbit, never to return. unexpectedly touchy, makes up for his lack of words probably - loves giving back hugs, kisses all your moles, freckles, scars if you have any, hugs you when sleeping, some affectionate biting, worships your body. likewise, loves when you reciprocate. miiiiight get overprotective and possessive, but it's only because he's afraid to lose you someday. bro needs your reassurance. and head rubs too.

🐉 if you got mostly d's... 𝒹𝒶𝓃 𝒽𝑒𝓃𝑔 is your valentine's date! ♪♫ blue salvia - PRYVT ♪♫ pragmatic and reliable. once you get to know him, he becomes more comfortable! his tail will hug every part of your body, uses it to pull you closer, rests your head on his shoulder, and tell you some of his dry humour jokes. always giving you his undivided attention - puts down everything to listen to you, silence is not uncomfortable or awkward for you two, greatly respects your personal space. really loves watching you be passionate about hobbies, work etc.! will sit with you and help if you have a hard task at hand. will research all your interests in depth, notes down your favourite things in his notebook, eventually knowing it by heart. communication can be stiff sometimes, just remember to be honest and open with each other.

🌹if you got no dominant answer (e.g. there's a tie) ... well... that's depressing- uuuh, is that ar-argenti?? he says he's very sad to be left out on valentine's day, so you two can pair together? oh, nice! he's already reserved a restaurant for the both of you. huh? a wreath of 999 roses and a statue in honour of your excellence is on it's way to you?! (alternatively, you can pick whoever you like most out of your results!)

i'd love to know who you guys got!!!♥️♥️♥️(i got ma boi dan heng😎[dh gang assemble here!])

a/n: literally felt like a couple therapist writing this✍️ anw happy early valentine's!! I MADE IT ON TIME YAAAAAY!!!!! this one is going in with my halloween gang😋 if you enjoyed this, lemme know! maybe i'll make more in the future and other minigames? i have one more draft brewing in my lab, a very special one heeheehe. will prob post soon! thanks for playing! 💐

[kirbmey]

psycho killer zayne !

💌: this won’t suit everyone, veeeery graphic descriptions of torture, gore, etc. it was inspired by american psycho, so you get an idea. don’t like it? leave, block me, whatever.

the relationship you had with zayne was soft, quiet and intimate. he was such a sweetheart to you, truly.

for example, calling you when he had a break between surgery and surgery, checking on you and asking you the most caring questions with a lovely tender voice.

“honey, how are you? I just got out of the operating room. couldn’t stop thinking about you since I left this morning.” he confessed in a tender manner, holding the phone between his head and shoulder while he took off his surgical gloves, sitting on a random chair in an empty hallway.

you expected his calls, always. pacing around his house impatiently, dressed in his big shirts as you sat by the window, looking at the city lights from above as you two held the conversation in almost whispers.

“you shouldn’t think of me when someone’s life is at risk, silly.” you giggled softly, placing your head in the hand you rested on the window seal, viewing the streets you always walked next to your lover while holding hands. “I miss you, want you here with me.” you added with a pout taken over your lips.

the line went silent for a second as zayne started to come up with ways to excuse the reason why he wouldn’t make it home for tonight. “my dear, I miss you too, more than you can imagine. but I have to cover my colleague for the night, I won’t make it home today.” you were the silent one now, feeling the sadness you were too familiar with creep to your heart.

“I’m sorry, honey, I’ll make it up to you.” he stated after waiting for a response that never came, fidgeting with the discarded glove as he expected your sweet voice to reassure him from the other side of the line.

you shut your eyes in an attempt to make the tears roaming around your eyes disappear. “it’s fine, don’t worry. don’t forget to rest a bit and eat, please?” he hummed as a response to your request, keeping up the conversation until he has to leave, saying goodbye with a warm ‘I love you’ to which you replied the classic ‘I love you too’.

you would never know, but he was doing this for you, to protect you.

protect you from the zayne you had no relationship with at all, the one you never met. and will never meet.

you see, zayne’s always been a calm guy, so put together and collected. he always knew how to handle any complex situation, any angry patient, any of your tantrums complaining about not spending enough time together.

you thought you’ve already met the unleashed zayne when he fucked you for the first time, distancing from the caring one you loved. how he pounded into your cervix so fast, how he slapped across your face after spitting on your mouth, how he spoke those mean words in such a condescending manner, as if he was making you a favor. you loved this zayne as well.

that was all the mean he could get to you, when he felt like fucking you instead of making love to you. and you never worried too much about it either, he didn’t mean those words, he wasn’t like that.

your zayne wasn’t like that.

the zayne stalking behind a woman your exact age to push a cloth over her mouth and put her to sleep so he could lock her in a filthy basement was like that.

he doesn’t know why or when those thoughts started to mess up with his mind, but he got off to them. the image of women crying in fear, begging for their lives as blood covered their oh so beautiful breasts was better than any porn video online.

and hey, he’s been doing this for a while now, even before you two met. but his little sweet angel only made it worse, because now you were the one he imagined crying and begging, covered in blood. and he was scared as he didn’t want to hurt you like that, in a permanent way. not in a kinky way, in a deathly way.

he wished he could kill you again, again and again, and then make you come back to life to kill you once more. he wanted to take care of you in the tenderest way possible and wanted to kill you in the filthiest way possible too.

so he started to murder more often, and he got crueler each time. the latest victim in front of him, oh poor soul, was going to be a witness to the zayne you’ll never know.

the girl in front of his broad figure stood naked with both her wrists tied to the ceiling with the roughest rope ever made, making the soft skin brake into small droplets of blood.

zayne fucking loved blood.

she stir awake, her eyes adjusting to the white light as her heartbeat raced faster each passing second, screaming for help and squirming around to try and break free form the restraints.

“my fucking god, why you whores always react the same way?” he spoke calmly as he approached her shaky form, grabbing a fistful of her hair to then slap her, not even close as the kind of slaps he gave you, making the girl shut up instantly as she started crying and apologizing.

zayne couldn’t care less about what she had to say, towering over her and fixated on the red liquid decorating her soft skin.

he had to touch it. smell it. taste it.

so he did, he leaned into her smaller frame, making her take a few steps back as he grabbed her arm to lick down on it, grunting when the metallic flavor covered his tongue. he got hard immediately.

he tasted it. now he needed to fuck into it.

“see? you can be silent for a while.” he chuckled lowly as he wiped the remains from his lips, turning around to grab a small cart hiding in the shadows and pull it in front of her, standing behind it. “but I’m afraid it won’t last—”

when she saw the contents of the silver platter on top of it she started crying and screaming once more. come on, it wasn’t so bad, was it?

his favorite scalpel with his name craved into the side, a sharp knife, a few nails next to a rusty hammer, a gun (boring) and a wrench.

lord, she didn’t even see the bat and machete in the lower shelf of the cart. how unconsiderate.

“I always let everyone choose, is the least I can do.” he clarified as he cleaned each of the tools before him with a cloth, pink with flowers. a gift you gave him; he carried a piece of you everywhere. “but don’t worry, dead or alive, you’ll test them all.”

after a little bit of pushing, yelling and cursing she chose the gun (he had to get rid of it, everyone chose the goddamn gun). he laughed wholeheartedly at her choice as he grabbed it and loaded it with a singular bullet.

he pushed the cart away to stand closer to her, filling her mouth with said cloth when her yelling got to his nerves. he always washed it after each job as he did with all of his tools, don’t worry. through and through a real and hygienic professional.

zayne traces the curve of her body with the head of the gun, palming himself through his briefs as he leaned down to whisper to her ear. “you think I’m gonna shoot you in the head and call it a day? after all the effort it took me to bring you here? no, no.” the gun stoped its travel, pointing at her tummy, caressing her bellybutton with it as he rubbed himself against his palm.

he held her head down to make her watch how he pressed the trigger, the bullet going trough her stomach. blood everywhere. now the fun part.

his white shirt was splashed with it, as his face, his hands, don’t even bother to think of how the wall behind her looked. everywhere he looked at, there was blood, red, warm blood.

zayne dropped the gun to the floor, grabbing her hips to bring her decaying body closer to him. he pulled the now bloody cloth out of her mouth before dropping it to the puddle next to the weapon, licking and kissing her crimson lips like a starving dog.

grunts and moans filled the four concrete walls as he rubbed his leaking tip against the hole in her tummy, tugging at the base as the foreskin feared to push a bit too much inside of said hole.

he didn’t even care about the now dead body in front of him, too busy breeding the wound after mere seconds. it was always like that, hard to get and fast to finish.

the other tools were used too, don’t worry. he had the time of his life that night.

and when he came back home to you, late at night when you were already fast asleep, after he burnt her and all of the possible evidence as he always did, he took a steamy shower, whistling full of joy, smiling at the dry blood converting the transparent water into that shade of pink you loved to then disappear down the drain.

you’d wake up shortly after with his dark and soft locks tickling your naked thighs as he nibbled at your clit and humped the mattress, offering you the best head he’d ever given to you. ever.

squirt all over his expensive sheets, over and over. so fucking wet, squelchy. warm, he needed more.

the sunlight met your lord knows what number orgasm, his jaw numb from all the effort and his mind cloudy because of the lack of sleep. “I love you, I love you.” he mumbled as he traced kisses from your thighs to your mouth, letting you taste the sweet nectar he got from you.

you’d ask him what’s gotten into him, he’d tell you he loves you once again.

your soft, quiet and intimate zayne loved you and wanted to take care of you.

the other zayne wanted to fucking kill you, stab you and beat you to death <3

let’s hope you never never ever meet him !

💌: yes i love patrick bateman and gore, I’m just a girl >_<

[lottienathive]

Top 10 lottienat scenes in the show?

1) their doomcoming confrontation is my number one for a very specific reason. it was my oh moment. when i first watched season 1 (before s2 started airing) this was the exact moment when lottienat hooked me. specifically this shot because it instantly reminded me of hannigram:

2) the blood drinking ritual

everything about this scene was crazy. the eye contact. the tension. the way travis kept fading into the background because lottie and nat were just so focused on staring at each other. nat drinking lottie's blood. the face lottie made after nat drank her blood. insane. i love it.

you can divorce me but you can't undrink my blood

3) the bathtub scene. need i say more? it's iconic we all love it and for good reason. it's intimate, it goes back to their roots pre-crash. for a moment they forget about their circumstances and the roles they have to play in the wilderness. for a moment there's no "prophet" no "hunter" it's just lottie and nat. just like old times.

4) the reunion. absolutely insane how this entire scene was framed... the build up with the music as nat was getting closer. lottie looking like she was coming down from an orgasm just when nat screamed her name and the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes is nat. "she's my friend." "is that what we are?" i was gagged.

5) i could wax poetic about this scene all day long. nat allowing herself to feel vulnerable. laying her head in lottie's lap. lottie stroking her hand. the intimacy and familiarity in the way it plays out. this entire scene from start to finish is very "folie à deux". a madness shared by two. the darkness within them that binds them. the antlers. i'm obsessed.

6) something something you construct intricate rituals which allow you to kiss the hand of your beloved ("you were always its favorite")

7) lottie inviting nat to dance and nat folding so easily when lottie asks

8) god i had to pause this scene like three times when i first watched it because i felt like i was intruding. it had me blushing. i think if you show someone this out of context they'll guess it's from the L Word

9) "i love you" ★ "i just want you to be safe" ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

10) the way lottie immediately ditched the conversation to run after nat lives rent free in my head. take an x-ray of my brain and you see those pixels <3

[yoongelectric]

Up and Down - Ben Shelton

pairing: ben shelton x fem!reader

genre: super fluffy, angst, smut, exes to lovers

warnings: pet names, unprotected sex, p in v, breeding kink, fingering, nipple play, riding, i think that’s it

summary: you get stuck in an elevator with the one that got away

notes: sorry for making you wait, i ended up changing a lot of things. English isn’t my first language

It has been more than a year since your breakup with Ben, your relationship had started innocently, when he came to your house to hang out with your brother, and you stole glances at each other when he was distracted, Ben secretly looked forward to those rare occasions when you spent time with them, when you watched movies together and if he was lucky maybe you would lay your head on his shoulder, or when the three of you had to go grocery shopping and you would seat in the passenger seat next to him, or when in the middle of a conversation he made you laugh. one day he decided that he wanted to be able to experience those things every day so he asked you out, one date turned into two and soon you were inseparable, your brother used to half joke about how you had stolen his best friend and threatened Ben saying that if he ever hurt you he would beat him up.

But all good things come to an end, they say, and after two years of dating, Ben's career began to get in the way, long training sessions and constant trips made it impossible for you two see each other. On top of that, you were no longer the main priority in Ben's mind, not showing up on dates or forgetting important days became more and more usual for him. So one day with pain in your heart you decided to end things, you knew that you both loved each other, and although it was probably one of the hardest things you had ever done you knew it was the best for both of you, you didn't want him to pay less attention to his career now that it was starting to take off, but you weren't going to sacrifice your happiness just to wait for him to have time for you.

You're doing fine, you're studying the career of your dreams, you have a good job, a quiet life and wonderful friends who help you not think about Ben, and maybe that's the reason why you’re doing fine, you don't think about ben, you don't see ben, the only news you have about him is when your brother proudly tells you how well he's doing in tennis, and it makes you happy, it's what you always wanted for him, to be successful in what he loves the most, but when you're alone with your thoughts you can't help but think about how things would be if you had fought more for your love, what it would be like to live your joys together, and support each other when things were not so good, but you convince yourself that you are better off this way, because you’ll never know if you would’ve been able to overcome that rough patch in your relationship.

and here you are, getting ready for your brother's birthday, he had told you earlier that Ben was going to be there and you had psychologically prepared yourself all afternoon for the moment you would see him for the first time since you broke up, you told everyone that it was fine, you’d ended up things on good terms and you didn't hold a grudge against him, you didn't feel anything for ben other than a nice memory, but secretly you were wearing just his favorite color, you had styled your hair the way you knew he liked it and you had looked at your outfit in the mirror hundreds of times hoping ben would find you attractive, there are things that never change at the end of the day.

The night was going smoothly, when Ben arrived you greeted him politely with a slight smile and continued having small talk with your aunt, obviously the questions didn't take long to come, what happened for you to broke up? Was there anyone else? How does it feel to see him here? You avoided them as best you could but they left you feeling an uncomfortable pang in your chest. The night went by and each drink made you overthink your decisions over and over again, so you decided to say goodbye to your closest circle and return home before doing something you would regret.

When they were about to close completely, the elevator doors opened up again, letting in ben’s tall figure, who looked at you surprised, with a pleased smile, you're not sure if that was the same expression he received from you.

"Hey, y/n, leaving already? We didn't have much chance to talk there" Ben tried to break the ice.

"Yeah, I have a bit of a headache so I preferred to go home" you lied, obviously you wouldn't tell him that you couldn't stand seeing him and not being together.

"oh i understand, maybe you need some sleep"

"yeah maybe..." you tried to say something else but you didn't really know what, you fell into an awkward silence, unusual for the two of you.

and as if life was playing a joke on you, you felt the elevator stop, you pressed the button for the ground floor several times but it was useless, you wouldn’t move.

"We can't be stuck here," you said, switching between pressing the stop and go button and the one for the floor you were going to.

"Relax, I'll call your brother so he’ll tell the maintenance guys."

The call gave you two the worst news, no one would go that late at night on a saturday to fix an elevator, so you would have to wait for the system to work again.

The two of you sat on the floor in silence, looking at the ceiling, at the floor anywhere but at each other, it was strange how something as familiar as being alone together now produced such discomfort inside you.

you heard ben laugh bitterly

"What's so funny?" You asked, playing with your necklace, an old habit you had when you were nervous.

"Nothing, I just never thought I'd need to be stuck in an elevator to be alone with you."

His remark making you feel even more uneasy.

"I don't think that's the case" you avoided his comment, looking away.

"y/n, I'm not stupid, I see that you're nervous, I know it bothers you being here with me" he paused to look at you for the first time in several minutes "I'm surprised that this is what we are like now"

"It doesn't bother me being here with you, Ben, it bothers me not knowing what to do."

"what do you mean?"

"You were literally my person for two years, we always connected on another level, and now we can't have a conversation for 5 minutes, I hate feeling like I don't know you"

"y/n, you are the one who’s been avoiding me all night, pretending you don't know me when you are the person who knows me best in the world" Ben approached you trying to hold your hand gently "I know it's my fault, I was the one who lost you, but things don't have to be like this"

"but they are, there’s nothing to do" you finally looked at him "some things belong to the past"

"I miss you, Y/n, I miss us, I know I didn't take care of you like I should have, but I don't think that our relationship is something of the past, I can fix things you know."

"There is nothing to fix, you have other priorities in life and that's okay, I'm not going to get in the way of your career"

"do you ever think about me?, tell me the truth, because I think about you all the time, every time I win a match and you’re the first person i wanna call, or when I watch some movie that you like and I remember the comments you would make, specially at night when the bed feels too big" Ben moved even closer to you "please tell me you still think about me, y/n”

"i do, but that doesn't matter-" your words were cut off by ben's lips on yours

He held you by the neck, kissing you as if he’d never had to stop doing it, the kiss felt intense, full of emotions that hadn’t surfaced for a whole year.

"It does matter, Y/N, before we didn't know how to handle things, but maybe now we can" Ben murmured against your lips.

"What if we can't? I don't want to feel like someone you only remember when you have nothing else to do again" A single tear fell down your cheek, which Ben was quick to wipe away with his thumb while holding your face.

"You were never that for me, y/n, it was a difficult time and i neglected you, i admit that, but I swear that will never happen again, i know how it feels like to loose you completely". ben smiled sadly

This time it was you who leaned in to kiss him, the desperation of finding something to hold onto to believe him invading your senses, Ben grabbed your waist trying to stick you to him but the position you were in, sitting side by side, made it impossible.

"Can you come here?" He patted his lap so you sat on top of him.

When you straddled him you felt his arms wrap you in a hug, clinging you to him as if even the slightest distance hurt him. He laid his head on your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your hair. You stayed like that for a while until he looked up again, his eyes full of love.

"god, you're so beautiful, i missed you"

“I missed you too, you have no idea” you pouted as you ran your hand through his brown curls, a habit that lingered over time.

You felt him reach out to kiss your neck, leaving wet kisses all over your sensitive spots, Ben's movement taking you aback momentarily but making you loose yourself in him right away, your hand in his hair caressing and gently pulling his locks as your back arched over his chest.

His hands came down to grab your hips, pressing you onto his growing erection, making you moan softly.

"Sorry, tell me to stop if you want" Ben whispered, kissing the skin the neckline of your top left visible.

"Please don't" you said looking down.

“good,” you heard ben grunt as he rolled your skirt up and grabbed your bare ass, urging you to buck your hips onto his, and again, and again, his hands guiding your movements hard onto it, his hard cock feeling so good against your clothed clit, but the friction quickly feeling too little. You gently bit his shoulder, pressing harder on him, but it was useless.

"ben, please, i need more"

Ben looked into your eyes, smiling devilishly, he raised your hips slightly to have easy access to your pussy, running a finger all over it, your hips pushed down onto his finger, your back arching, head falling back and your hands resting on his shoulders needing to grab something.

“ben, take them off” you said making him look up and kissing him again.

He pushed your panties to the side, without removing them yet, he poked a finger at your entrance trying to collect your wetness, hissing at the amount of your juices he found there.

"shit, I want to fuck you so bad"

Ben looked at you once more, lips red and swollen from his ministrations, your hair messy and a slight shine in your eyes.

"then do it, baby, I can't wait, Ben" this time you were the one who went down to kiss his neck, sucking hard, you were sure to leave marks but at this moment you didn't care, you felt Ben's hand twitch on your hip and a growl escape his mouth, it was amazing how after a year being apart you still knew all his weak points, maybe because you were one yourself

"Not yet, princess, we have to get you ready."

"Ok, but make it quick, what if the elevator starts working again?"

Ben laughed softly "we'll have to continue in my bed then."

You smiled at him but your face turned into one of pleasure when Ben began to draw figure eights on your pussy, keeping your hips still so he could please you just the way he wanted.

"Take off your top, baby" as soon as you left your breasts bare, Ben's mouth attacked them, skillfully licking your nipples, sucking and letting his teeth delicately graze that sensitive area.

Ben slid two fingers into your entrance, pumping them in and out reaching all the places inside you that made you see stars, his other hand releasing your hip as he licked his thumb to circle your clit.

You were making a mess on his fingers and you could hear the noise of your wetness getting pushed in and out of you.

"ben, it’s okay, fuck me, please, I need you, I need your cock"

ben nodded his head releasing his dick from its confinement, you suddenly remembered his size, once he was inside of you, you felt perfectly full, stretched, but it was true that it had taken you a few months during your relationship to get used to his length and girth.

"you ready, pretty?" You nodded and looked at him, legs spread, leaning back slightly, giving his member a few strokes before he grabbed you to help you sit on his cock he looked so attractive you couldn't think about anything else.

you let his dick in inch by inch, but halfway through you felt it was too much, the stretch hurting between your legs.

your face of discomfort didn’t go unnoticed by ben

"y/n are you okay? did I hurt you or something?" He spoke worriedly while holding your waist to help you support your own weight.

You nodded and rested your head on the crook of his neck before speaking, a little embarrassed

"I'm fine, it's just that, your dick is big and I haven't had..." you looked at him with reddened cheeks.

"since we broke up?" Ben asked trying to sound understanding, but the smile he had to contain was noticed by you.

"don't smile like that, I just need to adjust to the size, be a little patient with me"

"all the patience in the world, love, just tell me when you're ready" he gave a soft peck on your shoulder.

"can you take this off?" you asked as you grabbed the hem of his shirt.

Ben removed the garment in one motion allowing you to cling onto his skin, breathing through your nose and taking in the rest of him.

“you’re doing great, y/n, just tell me when you can move.”

The pain soon turned into pleasure and you soon began to feel that need for more friction in your lower stomach, you moved your hips up until only the tip was inside and you let yourself fall, Ben's deep growl making your walls tighten around his cock, you repeated your movements over and over again until your legs began to shake, his mouth changing between kissing your breasts, your neck or your lips, soon neither of you had the energy for anything but trying to reach your climaxes, holding each other and moaning into each other's mouths, you were so close but your legs had less and less strength.

"ben, can you?-"

A scream escaped your mouth when Ben placed his heels on the floor and, holding your hips, began to fuck you right in that delicious pace that he’d always known how to give you.

"Is this what you wanted, beautiful? you wanted me to fuck you good?"

"gosh, ben, so so so good, I missed this so much"

"I missed you, I love you so much"

Ben held you close, so lovingly, contrasting with the violent thrusts he was giving your pussy over and over again.

The knot in your stomach formed quickly and white spots appeared around your eyes.

"love, I'm close" your hips began to meet his movements, your clit rubbing against Ben's pelvis making your head spin.

“let go, cum for me, tell me, y/n, who makes you feel this good?”

The tension in your stomach snapped, your entire body shivered and all the nerves in your body woke up, you made a mess of juices on his dick.

"Shit, Ben you make me feel this good, there's no one like you."

You didn't know what you were saying, you were just thinking about the time you’d missed all of this, the time you lost each other.

When you came down from your high, Ben started his thrusts again, becoming more erratic and his moans less controlled.

"y/n I'm gonna cum, where do you want it?"

Your head was full of possibilities, but you felt so good like this, so comfortable, so safe, that you didn't want to move, you didn't want to lose contact.

"Finish inside, I don't want you to get out of me, Ben"

"damn, you're the best thing that ever happened to me"

Ben's hips stopped inside you, pressing hard as you felt his white seed paint your walls.

His head fell onto your shoulder with a grunt of pleasure and exhaustion, hugging you tightly, as if you were going to disappear if he didn’t hold you close. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his head, enjoying the contact that you’d only now realized how much you missed.

“I love you, Ben, i’m sorry for leaving like that,” you whispered in his ear.

"I let you go, I should have never ever taken you for granted, y/n, please be mine again."

You grabbed his head to make him look at you and you left a tender kiss on his cheek.

"I think all this shows you that my answer is yes"

"Thank you, baby, I swear you won't regret it, I'll take care of you the way you deserve"

"I know I won't regret it, love."

tiredness began to take over you, so Ben gently took you away from him, telling you to get dressed, that he would wake you up when the elevator worked again.

and you don't know when that happened, but the next morning you woke up clinging to him in his bed, right where you should have always been.

[florawrites-blog]

boyfriend!jay who likes to plan your future together even when your dreams are too big

You lay comfortably on Jay’s lap, looking up at him with bright eyes as he absentmindedly ran his fingers through your hair. The conversation had started with simple house plans—what kind of kitchen you wanted, whether to have a big backyard—but, naturally, it had spiraled into something much more important.

“Wait, wait—so you’re telling me,” Jay started, raising an eyebrow, “that even after we get married, my members are still gonna haunt us?”

You giggled, reaching up to poke his cheek. “Jay, are you kidding? They’re our children. And of course Uncle Heeseung will have his own suite—show him some respect.”

Jay sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “Of course. How could I forget? Uncle Heeseung.”

You nodded proudly, but then, suddenly, your expression turned serious. You lowered your voice into a whisper, eyes darting side to side as if checking for hidden cameras. “Actually… Maybe we should also decorate his room.”

Jay’s brows furrowed. “What?”

You lifted your head slightly, still speaking as if revealing top-secret information. “Since he kinda doesn’t know how to, y’know… d-decorate.”

Jay burst out laughing, but you quickly shushed him, pressing a finger to his lips. “Shh! What if he’s listening?!”

“Oh yeah, you’re right,” he teased, eyes filled with amusement. “Heeseung’s probably hiding under the couch right now.”

“EXACTLY.”

Jay wiped an imaginary tear from his eye, still chuckling, but then his expression turned playfully serious. “You know what, baby? How about we also sing them lullabies before bed?”

Your eyes lit up. “OH MY GOD. YOU’RE A GENIUS.” You sat up excitedly. “We should also do, like, story time before bed—”

Jay tilted his head back, laughing so hard his dimples popped out. He tried to stifle it, but he couldn’t. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, pulling you closer and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You grinned. “And yet, you’re still so down bad.”

Jay hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah… I really, really am.”

And if that meant listening to you happily rant about interior design and bedtime stories for his grown-up members every night, then he’d do it forever.

[maretinelli]

FAILED MEETING

Ollie Bearman X fem!reader

Summary: Where the four times Ollie helped Y/n get over her failed dates, but on the fifth, she realizes that what she was looking for was right there in front of her the whole time.

Words: 3.5K+

Warnings: Best friends since childhood to lovers and Ollie being really cute with Y/n, Mention of college reader, mention of alcoholic beverages, a part where Y/n is a little drunk but it's funny, Ollie taking care of her, and mentions of meeting other guys, happy ending.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar, and slang mistakes that may be in the story. You can request stories on my profile. ❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

1st Failed Meeting.

Y/n was there, sitting at the table, trying to focus on the words coming out of the mouth of the man in front of her. He seemed to be very outgoing, wanting to show off everything he had achieved, his travels, his projects, his successes.

At first, Y/n thought he was just a bubbly person who liked to share stories about himself. She tried to stay interested by smiling and nodding, but as time went on, she began to realize that he wasn't the least bit interested in hearing about her.

Every time she started to speak, he interrupted her, going back to his own conquests.

"I, of course, have already been to Paris, as I said. And when I got there, everyone was impressed with my work." He said, not noticing the look of frustration that formed in Y/n's eyes.

Y/n started to feel invisible, like she was an accessory in his conversation, not someone he really wanted to talk to. She looked at her watch, feeling like she needed to get out of there.

It was impossible to stay there.

"I... I think I have to go. I have an appointment that just came up." Y/n said, standing up quickly.

"But... are you serious? Already?" He looked at her with a look of surprise, still trying to grasp what was happening.

"Yeah, I'm really late." Y/n replied, forcing a smile. "I'll pay my share at the counter."

She grabbed her bag and stood up, leaving the table before he had time to react. When she left the restaurant, she quickly grabbed her phone and texted Ollie.

'S.O.S. I need rescue.'

'I'm on 5th Avenue, Italian restaurant ಥ⁠╭⁠╮⁠ಥ"

Minutes later, Ollie appeared. She smiled in relief when she saw him. He had a curious smile on his face, but his expression soon softened.

"Trouble in paradise, huh?" Ollie asked, laughing as she got into the car.

Y/n sighed, giving a wry smile. "You have no idea. The guy is... THE GUY ONLY TALKS ABOUT HIMSELF, Ollie. He's a narcissist! He interrupted me every time I tried to talk about myself. I couldn't even tell him I like coffee with milk without him starting to talk about the last time he had coffee at a fancy restaurant."

Ollie laughed out loud, amusement evident on his face. "So how was he feeling, being the only interesting human being in the conversation?"

"He was loving it! I have no words, Ollie."

He laughed again. "I knew it was going to be a disaster. He seemed pretty perfect at first, didn't he?" Ollie starts driving.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Yeah, 'perfect'... Except not. He has no idea how to be a person."

Ollie glanced at her, the amused expression still on his face. "Do you want to come over to my apartment? I ordered a pizza a few minutes ago and it should be here soon. Maybe you'll be able to forget about the whole disaster."

Y/n smiled at the offer. "That sounds perfect."

As he drove, the two felt comfortable with each other. They had been friends for so many years, and she felt that, through it all, Ollie had always been there for her, more than anyone else.

Since childhood, the two had exchanged confidences, and Y/n, although she knew how much she cared for him, still didn't have the courage to say how sorry she was. Ollie, on the other hand, had always had the same feeling, but was afraid to confess and risk their friendship.

They arrived at Ollie's apartment, and he began to talk about the training he had done that day. "It was intense. I'm really excited to get back on the track. I hope the car can handle the changes. I need more practice time."

Y/n listened to him attentively, enjoying seeing him so excited, her smile widening as she felt the comfortable atmosphere around her.

She took off her heels and placed them near the door, next to Ollie's sneakers. It was like she was home.

Ollie walked over to the intercom to answer the pizza, and then turned to Y/n, a soft look in his eyes. "I have some comfortable clothes here if you want. You can grab something from my closet."

Y/n looked at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Sure. You're probably bothered by that skirt and tights, aren't you?"

Y/n smiled and walked closer to him. "You know me very well." She hugged him affectionately, placing her head on his shoulder, and then placed a soft kiss on the base of his neck, which made her smile shyly. "Thank you, Ollie."

Ollie was quiet for a moment, feeling the softness of her touch, but he smiled. "I'll get the pizza downstairs. Make yourself at home."

Y/n watched him walk away, the heat from their interaction still in her body as the feeling she had always had for him intensified, something she could no longer ignore.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

2nd Failed Meeting.

The date seemed promising at first. Y/n and the guy had agreed on something simple: to go out for ice cream in the afternoon. The weather was cold, but nothing a milkshake couldn't make up for. At first, she thought it would be a pleasant afternoon.

But she soon realized she was wrong.

He spent most of his time looking at his phone, laughing at messages and occasionally commenting on other girls. He talked about how his ex was still trying to get back together with him, how a college friend of his was 'too hot' and how a girl he met on Instagram seemed 'too nice'.

At no point did he ask anything about Y/n. Not about her day, not about what she liked, nothing.

Then he got a message and laughed out loud. "Oh my god, look at this!" He said, but didn't bother showing it to Y/n.

It was there that she realized he really didn't want to be there.

Y/n just sighed and decided it wasn't worth wasting any more time. She stood up, grabbed her bag and said without hesitation, "I need to go. My parents are going out and they need the car."

The guy barely looked up from his phone. "Oh, no problem. We'll talk later."

She rolled her eyes, grabbed the untouched milkshake, and walked out of the fancy ice cream shop.

Getting into the car, he took out his cell phone and sent a message to Ollie.

'Meet me in the park near Big Ben?'

The answer came within seconds.

'I'll be there in a few minutes. (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)'

Y/n started the car and drove to the meeting point. On the way, she laughed to herself, remembering the absurd things he had said.

"Thank God I got out."

As she reached the park, the chilly London wind blew her hair away. She leaned against the railing, looking out at Big Ben and the bridge. The biting cold called for a thick coat, and Y/n was wearing a cozy sweater and scarf, but she still felt the wind blowing against her face.

That's when he felt a hand land gently on his shoulder.

"How many minutes did you last this time?" Ollie asked, leaning against the railing beside her, a smile playing on his lips.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "Long enough to hear him talk about other girls like I was one of his friends."

Ollie's eyes widened in disbelief. "No kidding."

"I swear! He spent the whole time on his phone and laughing at the messages he received. Oh, and he even told me, all excited, that his ex still isn't over him."

Ollie laughed out loud. "Was this a date or a therapy session for him?"

"I should have charged for that." Y/n laughed along.

Ollie watched her, enchanted without even realizing it. The sparkle in her eyes as she spoke, the way the wind made her hair dance in the air, the way she wrinkled her nose every time she talked about the idiot she had gone out with.

Everything about her seemed perfect to him. It always had.

She noticed his gaze and smiled. "What is it?"

"Nothing." Ollie said, quickly looking away at the view of the river. "I'm just trying to understand how someone sets you up on a date and then decides to ignore you."

Y/n laughed, tossing her hair back. "Yeah, I wanted to understand too."

He smiled, shaking his head. "You know, maybe it's your fault."

"Mine?" She arched her eyebrow.

"Yes. You always attract the most bizarre cases. I think you have a special talent for it."

Y/n pushed him lightly, laughing. "Funny."

Ollie pointed to the cup in his hand. "What's up? Did you buy a milkshake to drown your sorrows?"

She lifted her nearly full glass and sighed dramatically. "Yes. My great consolation after the worst date of my life."

"Well, at least the milkshake didn't ignore you to talk about his ex." Ollie joked.

Y/n laughed again, feeling her heart warm with his presence. With Ollie, everything was different. Everything was light, fun, safe. She knew, deep down, that no date would work out because no guy would be like him.

But confessing it? That was the real challenge.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

3rd Failed Meeting

From the beginning, Y/n could tell something was wrong.

The guy didn't just seem excited, he was scary. Before they even had their first drink, he was already talking about marriage, kids, and how they were 'made for each other'.

Y/n listened to everything with wide eyes, trying to understand why he was so convinced that she was 'the woman of his life' after just a few exchanged messages and casual encounters at college.

He acted as if they were already in love, talking about their future together, their travel plans, their children's names, how his mother would love to meet her. All this without even knowing what her favorite food was.

They were in a bar near the college, and Y/n, completely scared by every word that came out of his mouth, started drinking. A tequila. Then, a shot of vodka. Then beer. Each sip was a momentary relief from the barrage of exaggerated statements he made.

When she realized that the alcohol was already rising and that she definitely couldn't stay there, she decided to find a way to leave.

"I... just remembered that I need to go home. My parents need me there."

She grabbed her bag and hurriedly got up, leaving before he could say anything.

As soon as he left there, he picked up his cell phone and found a message from Ollie.

'So, how's the date going?'

'Terrible. And I'm a little drunk. I need to get home, but I can't drive.'

'I'm coming to get you, babe'

The bar was close to the college, so she walked over and sat down on the steps of the block where her course rooms were. She wasn't completely drunk—not to the point where she was throwing up or couldn't walk—but she knew she wasn't sober enough to drive or take a taxi by herself.

A few minutes later, a taxi pulled up in front of her. Ollie got out of the car, said something to the driver, and paid the fare before looking in Y/n's direction.

She was sitting on the stairs, looking down at the ground with a dejected expression. He couldn't tell if it was because of the disastrous date or simply because she was tired from class.

He walked up the steps and smiled. "Wow, Y/n. You look great. Radiant, even."

Y/n looked up, snorted, and smiled. "Shut up."

"Come on, I'll help you." Ollie laughed and held out his hands to her.

She took his hands, and Ollie gently pulled her up, helping her to her feet. Once she was standing, she sighed. "The guy was already talking about kids, marriage, our country house, and naming our dogs."

Ollie's eyes widened. "Bullshit."

"I swear. And the worst part? He acted like we'd been married for years. Like... we don't even know each other!"

"You attract such a weirdo..." Ollie chuckled, shaking his head.

She rolled her eyes and smiled, crossing her arms. Ollie then held out his hand to her.

Half drunk and a little lost, Y/n just slapped his palm and said excitedly: "HIGH-FIVE!"

Ollie laughed, tilting his head back. "Y/n, I wanted your car keys, not a high-five."

She frowned and then raised her eyebrows, as if she understood the logic of it. "Ahhh. Here..."

Then he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys, handing them to him with a smile.

"Thanks." Ollie laughed, putting away the keys and putting an arm around her shoulders. "Let's go home, honey."

Y/n snuggled against him as they walked towards the parking lot. Ollie felt torn on one hand, seeing Y/n hanging out with other guys always made him sad.

But on the other hand, he liked being the person who always rescued her. I enjoyed taking care of her, even if it was after failed dates and a few extra shots of tequila.

As they got into the car, Ollie put on his seatbelt. Y/n watched him closely, a small smile on her lips.

"You're so beautiful." She commented suddenly.

Ollie paused for a second, turned his face to her and raised an eyebrow. "You're drunk."

"That doesn't mean it's a lie." She smiled even wider.

Ollie laughed, starting the car. "Okay, let's get you home before you propose to me too."

•••••••••••••••••••••

4th Failed Meeting

Dinner had barely started, and Y/n already wanted to run away.

The guy couldn't stop talking about his ex-girlfriend. About how perfect she was. About how she broke his heart. About how sometimes he still dreamed about her.

Y/n tried to change the subject a few times, but he always found a way to go back to his ex. The worst part? He started comparing her to the girl. The way she spoke, the way she played with her hair, even her smile, everything was identical to his ex-girlfriend.

It was enough for Y/n to realize that he was definitely not ready to move on. So before dessert arrived, she grabbed her bag and stood up.

"Look... I hope you can get over your ex one day. But I'm not her, and you clearly don't want to be here with me. Good luck."

She left without looking back, ignoring any protests he might make.

As soon as he stepped onto the sidewalk, he took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the frustration of the encounter. But when he looked up, he saw a car parked on the other side of the street.

A car that looked absurdly familiar.

She frowned and walked closer. When she saw who was behind the wheel, she laughed in surprise and knocked on the window.

Ollie smiled from inside and unlocked the doors. Y/n quickly got into the car and turned to him.

"What are you doing here?" She raised her eyebrows. "I haven't even had time to call for help yet!"

Ollie chuckled, turning the key in the ignition. "My parents ordered dinner from this restaurant. I came to pick it up." He then gave her an amused look. "But then I saw you sitting inside with a panicked look on your face. I decided to wait, because I was sure that in a matter of minutes you would either come out or send a message asking for rescue."

Y/n blinked a few times in surprise. "You know me too well."

"It's a gift." Ollie shrugged, smiling.

She was silent for a second, her heart pounding. She wanted so badly to tell him. To tell him that, since childhood, he had been her favorite person. That, through all these failed dates, the only constant was him.

So instead he just smiled.

"Thank you for waiting for me."

"What was the problem this time?" He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, still smiling.

Y/n snorted, leaning her head back against the bench. "He couldn't stop talking about his ex. From the beginning to the end of dinner."

Ollie grimaced. "Really?"

"Seriously. And not only that! He compared me to her all the time. He said that the way I moved my hair reminded him of her, that my smile was just like hers, that even my voice sounded like hers."

"For God's sake." The pilot's mouth fell open in shock.

"I know!" Y/n threw her hands up. "Like, why did he go out with me? He's clearly still in love with her!"

Ollie laughed, shaking his head. "You have a magnet for bad dates. I told you!"

"I'm starting to think so." She laughed, turning to him. "I think I'll stop trying for a while."

Ollie looked at her for a moment, as if he wanted to say something. But instead, he just drove on and smiled.

"Good idea. And anyway, you don't need dates when you already have the most amazing best friend in the world to save you."

Y/n smiled, feeling her heart race.

Maybe one day she would finally be able to tell him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Last Failed Date.

The meeting wasn't bad. The guy was nice, handsome, polite and even funny. They had fluid conversations, laughed at the same things, and Y/n almost allowed herself to believe that it could finally work out.

But with every laugh, every witty comment, she realized she was comparing everything to Ollie.

The way he told jokes. The way he moved his hair, his voice, his jokes. Gosh, even physically, he reminded me a little of Ollie.

And it was there, in the middle of dinner, that everything became clear.

What she was looking for was always right beside her.

She put the glass down on the table with a sigh and looked at the boy in front of her.

"Look... I need to be honest with you."

"Go ahead." He raised his eyebrows curiously.

"There's nothing wrong with you. You're an amazing, kind, polite, and thoughtful guy. But there's someone... someone I need to see right now. I need to tell them how I feel before it's too late. I'm sorry."

He was silent for a moment, then smiled. "I'm glad you realized that on the first date, so my heart doesn't break as much."

"I'm sorry, again." Y/n let out an awkward laugh.

"No need to apologize." He shrugged. "Good luck with your love!" He smiled, genuinely rooting for her.

Y/n smiled, paid her share and left the restaurant, her heart racing.

All the way to Ollie's apartment, her mind was racing with a thousand thoughts. How would he react? What if it was too late? What if she had misinterpreted everything?

But one thing was certain, she had to try.

When she arrived at the building, the receptionist just smiled and let her pass without needing to tell him; she was already as much a part of that place as Ollie.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on his door.

When Ollie opened it, his eyes widened to see her there, crying softly, with her hands in the pocket of her denim jacket and her makeup slightly smudged.

"Y/n?" He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her lightly inside, closing the door behind them. "What happened? Did he do something to you? Because if he did, I swear I-"

"No, no!" Y/n shook her head quickly, wiping away a tear. "Nothing bad happened. The date was good, the guy was sweet, but..." She took a deep breath, feeling her heart hammer in her chest. "I left because I realized I love someone else."

Ollie froze. His heart stopped for a second, dreading hearing another guy's name leave her lips. But then, Y/n wrapped her arms around herself and looked deep into his eyes, tears starting to fall again.

"The man I love has known me since I was a child. He knows when I'm having a bad day, knows exactly what to do to cheer me up. He takes me on runs, lends me his sweatshirts, takes care of me when my parents are away on business..." Ollie held his breath, his heart hammering. "He's my best friend..."

The last sentence came out in a whisper, full of emotion.

Ollie's eyes lit up. One second his hands were on her face, and the next he was pulling her into a kiss.

It was soft, tender, but at the same time full of urgency, as if they had both been waiting for this for years. Between one kiss and another, smiles formed, hands clasped, as if they wanted to be sure that it was real.

When they broke apart, Ollie rested his forehead against hers, smiling.

"I've loved you since I was little," he confessed, his voice hoarse with emotion. "It hurt to see you go out with all those guys, but I was relieved when it didn't work out because I knew you'd come back to me. I always wanted to take care of you like you were my own."

Y/n smiled, her hands wrapping around his neck. "I've always been yours, I just didn't realize it before. But I'm here now, and forever. You just have to want it too."

Ollie smiled, his eyes full of love. "I want you today, tomorrow and always."

And then he kissed her again, finally sealing everything that had always been there.

Y/n's hands slid around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, feeling the warmth and familiarity that had always been there, but now with a completely different meaning. Ollie sighed against her lips, smiling between one kiss and another, as if he couldn't believe that this was really happening.

But now, there was no more hesitation, just the certainty that they were finally where they were supposed to be.

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER SEVEN

baby, i'm talkin' crazy, i need you right in my space"

pairing — trentxblack!r&b artist

tropes — fake dating, enemies-to-lovers

warnings — sexual tension, toxic relationships, mature themes (minors dni)

word count — 8k

summary — y/n, a rising r&b star, is stuck in toxic situationships, with tabloids constantly overshadowing her music. to fix her image, her team pushes her into a fake relationship with liverpool’s trent alexander-arnold. both reluctant, they soon realize keeping things strictly business isn't so simple. will pretending to be in love stay a game, or turn into something real?

an — i am sorry for the late update! i've been ill :( stream all of AAA and how does it feel by flo!!

masterlist

trent’s text had been annoyingly vague.

trent: come over. we need to talk.

y/n hadn’t expected much. she figured it would be another tense conversation about keeping up appearances or whatever trent decided was his priority of the day. but as she stepped through the door of his house, she was hit with an overwhelming wave of chatter, laughter, and the smell of home-cooked food that wrapped around her like a familiar hug.

his whole family was there.

“y/n!” trent’s mom was the first to greet her, pulling her into a warm hug, her arms squeezing just tight enough to make y/n forget to breathe for a second. she pulled back, eyes warm and scanning y/n with the kind of softness that made her heart clench.

“finally! trent’s told us so much about you.”

“oh, has he?” y/n raised a brow, her voice laced with humor as she glanced at trent, who stood behind her looking like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

“mum, don’t start,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“oh, hush, trent.” his mom waved him off, her full attention returning to y/n. “you’re even prettier than i imagined,” she said, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “and your music! it’s so good. we’ve all been listening.”

y/n’s eyes widened in surprise. “really?”

“absolutely. you’re incredibly talented, love. you should be so proud of yourself.” trent’s mom reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “and i’m proud of you. it’s not easy doing what you do, but you’ve done it with such grace. you’re strong, and you’re good for my son.”

the words hit y/n like a punch to the chest, knocking the air right out of her. she felt her throat tighten as she tried to swallow the sudden wave of emotion. the absence of her mother, felt so stark in that moment, it was suffocating. she hadn’t heard words like that in so long—words filled with love, warmth, and pride.

she blinked quickly, forcing herself to breathe, to pull it together. she couldn’t break down here, not in front of trent’s family.

but trent noticed. of course, he did.

from his place beside her, he watched the way her lips pressed into a thin line, how her eyes dropped to the floor for just a second too long. he saw the way she tried to cover the rawness in her expression with a small, polite smile.

“mum,” trent said, his voice softer now, stepping in before y/n could crumble under the weight of her own emotions. “don’t overwhelm her, yeah?”

his mom chuckled, clearly oblivious to the storm brewing inside y/n. “oh, nonsense. she’s family now.”

trent placed a hand on y/n’s back, grounding her. his thumb traced slow, soothing circles as he leaned down, voice low enough for only her to hear. “you okay?”

she nodded, blinking up at him with a grateful smile. “yeah. i’m good.”

but he knew better. and so, he kept his hand there, steady and reassuring, while his mom continued to talk, her voice soft and filled with love.

before y/n could process much else, a younger alexander-arnold siblin—who had to be marcel—rushed over, his eyes wide with excitement. “y/n! oh my days, i can’t believe you’re actually here.”

she laughed, taken aback by his energy. “hi, and you must be marcel?”

“yeah, yeah, that’s me. okay, i have to say it—you’re, like, my celebrity crush. this is mad.”

y/n felt her cheeks heat up, but she grinned, playing it off. “well, thank you. that’s very sweet.”

“marcel, chill,” trent groaned, pulling his brother back by the collar of his shirt. “you’re gonna scare her off.”

“what? i’m just being honest!” marcel protested, his voice cracking slightly as he looked at y/n. “you’re even prettier in person, by the way.”

“okay, that’s enough,” trent cut in, giving marcel a pointed look. “go help dad or something.”

y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the exchange, especially when marcel shot her an exaggerated wink before walking off.

for the rest of the night, trent didn’t take his eyes off her. he watched how she slowly relaxed again, how she laughed with marcel, how she charmed his sister-in-law and mum. and though she was still a little quieter than usual, she never let her guard slip again.

but trent had seen it—the way her walls had cracked for just a second, leaving a glimpse of something tender and broken underneath.

and he couldn’t shake it.

the hours passed in a blur of laughter, food, and playful teasing. y/n found herself easing into the warmth of the alexander-arnold family, who welcomed her like one of their own. but the real chaos started during an intense game of uno, with everyone shouting and accusing each other of cheating before they began to trickle home, leaving y/n, trent and the youngest alexander-arnold sibling (who his mum mocked for "thirdwheeling").

“you’re so bad at this game,” y/n teased trent, placing down a draw four card with a triumphant grin.

“you’re cheating,” he shot back, narrowing his eyes at her.

“sounds like someone’s a sore loser,” she quipped, earning laughs from his siblings.

marcel, ever the instigator, suddenly leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “now that you’re basically part of the family, y/n, i’ve got to ask you something.”

she raised a brow, intrigued. “what’s that?”

“your exes,” he said bluntly, making everyone pause.

trent groaned loudly, his head falling back against the couch. “marcel, don’t.”

“no, no, i gotta know,” marcel insisted, ignoring his brother’s protests. “what’s real and what’s fake? i mean, with all the articles and stuff… i’m curious.”

y/n couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “seems like everyone’s interested in that topic lately.”

marcel pulled out his phone, opening an article from The Sun. “okay, let’s start with the obvious—jadon.”

y/n’s cheeks flushed, and she shyly nodded. “yeah… that one’s true.”

trent scoffed immediately, sitting up straighter. “not anymore,” he muttered under his breath, earning a pointed look from y/n.

marcel grinned, clearly enjoying the tension. “alright, what about central cee?”

y/n scrunched her nose in visible disgust. “nope. we have a song together, sure. but people handled that. i think we’ve said maybe three words to each other. that’s it.”

trent couldn’t hide his smile at her answer, which only annoyed her more.

“okay, next—damson idris.”

y/n sighed dramatically, a dreamy look crossing her face. “i wish.”

trent immediately stiffened, his jaw tightening. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

marcel, catching his brother’s reaction, smirked. “y/n’s got a type, and it’s definitely not you.”

trent shot him a glare, but y/n, sensing an opportunity to tease him, leaned closer with a sly smile. “you’re still my best boyfriend, though… unless damson calls me. then i’m out the door.”

trent rolled his eyes, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “no one would be able to deal with your attitude anyway.”

the banter continued until marcel brought up one more name. “what about tee higgins?”

y/n’s expression shifted slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. “yes,” she admitted quietly.

marcel’s eyes lit up. “oh, an american football player? now this is interesting.”

trent frowned, his gaze snapping to y/n. “what’s that about?”

she shrugged nonchalantly, trying to downplay it. “i was in america for a show, and he came out. we hung out a bit, and that was it.”

trent’s frown deepened, jealousy simmering just beneath the surface. “i don’t like it.”

y/n raised a brow, clearly amused. “well, good thing it’s not up to you.”

“i’m the only footballer you need,” he said firmly, his tone possessive.

y/n, ever the instigator herself, leaned closer with a teasing smile. “oh, but tee was such a pretty boy. just my type.”

trent didn’t say anything at first, but the twitch in his jaw and the fire in his eyes said enough. without warning, he reached over and pulled her onto his lap, his fingers digging into her sides as he started tickling her mercilessly.

“take it back,” he demanded, a rare smile breaking through his usual seriousness.

“never!” y/n squealed, squirming in his grasp as she laughed uncontrollably.

marcel, watching the chaos unfold, smirked. “mission accomplished.” he stood up, stretching lazily. “i’ll leave you two to it. try not to kill each other.”

as soon as marcel left the room, trent loosened his grip, letting y/n catch her breath. she stayed on his lap, her face flushed from laughter, and looked at him with a mix of amusement and curiosity.

“you’re ridiculous, you know that?” she said, still breathless.

“and you’re annoying,” he shot back, though his tone was far softer than usual.

they stayed like that for a moment longer, the playful tension between them giving way to something quieter, something almost tender. but neither of them said a word about it, both too stubborn to acknowledge whatever was brewing beneath the surface.

lately, things between them had shifted—soft, almost imperceptible at first, but unmistakable now. more outings. more moments that felt like stolen pieces of something bigger. trent was the type to just tell her to be ready, showing up at her door with no explanation, sweeping her away to hidden corners of the city like it was her own personal fairytale.

but it wasn’t really a fairytale. it was them, caught somewhere between friends and something dangerously close to more.

tonight was no different.

the restaurant hummed with quiet conversation, the faint clinking of silverware against plates filling the air. they sat tucked into a cozy corner booth, the warm amber light casting a soft glow over their table. the night felt easy, their laughter and conversation flowing as naturally as ever. it was a date, but not really. just another outing that blurred the lines of what they were supposed to be. yet, trent couldn’t help but think it felt all too real.

she looked beautiful tonight—oversized blazer, mini skirt, heels that showed off her legs, and that barely-there gloss on her lips that caught the light just right. his eyes kept drifting back to her even as she scrolled through the menu, her brows furrowing in thought as she decided what to order.

“i can feel you staring,” she teased without looking up, her lips curling into a playful smile.

trent leaned back, unbothered. “can you blame me?”

she shook her head with a laugh, but a blush crept up her neck anyway.

moments like this were dangerous. they tiptoed on the edge of something unspoken, both of them too stubborn—or too afraid—to admit how much they liked it here, caught in their own grey area.

he couldn’t say it aloud, but this was starting to feel like more than just fun, more than just convenience. he didn’t just like her company—he wanted it. craved it.

and the way her eyes lit up every time he showed up at her door, no questions asked, told him she felt it too.

but neither of them dared to say it. not yet.

his leg bounced nervously under the table, the question he’d been trying to ask sitting heavy on his chest. he wasn’t usually like this—hesitant, unsure—but something about asking her felt… different.

“so, what are you thinking of getting?” she asked, glancing up at him, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

“uh, haven’t decided yet,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. his nerves were getting the better of him. the words were right there, on the tip of his tongue, but every time he opened his mouth, they refused to come out.

y/n tilted her head at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “you okay? you’ve been weirdly quiet all night.”

“yeah, yeah, i’m fine,” he said quickly, shaking his head as if to clear it. “just… thinkin’.”

she didn’t push, simply nodding and turning her attention back to the menu, but trent knew he couldn’t put it off any longer. he needed to ask before he lost his nerve completely.

“hey,” he said suddenly, making her look up again.

“what?” she asked, her voice curious.

he hesitated, running a hand over his jaw. “so… england’s playing at wembley next week,” he started, trying to sound casual. “and, uh, i was wondering if you’d want to come. you know, to… match.”

her face softened, a small smile tugging at her lips. “of course,” she said easily. “i mean, it’s a public outing, right? gotta play the part of the supportive girlfriend.”

her words were lighthearted, teasing, but they still made his chest tighten. because that’s all it was supposed to be—playing a part. but lately, it didn’t feel like pretending anymore.

“yeah,” he said, forcing a grin. “exactly.”

the conversation moved on, and they ordered their food, but the comfortable rhythm of their night was broken when y/n suddenly cleared her throat, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her napkin.

“trent?”

“hm?” he glanced up from his plate, his brows lifting in curiosity.

she hesitated, her eyes darting to his before quickly looking away. “i, um… i wanted to ask you something.”

“yeah? what’s up?”

she bit her lip, clearly nervous, and it made his stomach twist. whatever she was about to say, it was important.

“zaia and cash’s wedding is coming up,” she started, her voice quieter than usual. “and… i was wondering if you’d be my date.”

the words hung in the air between them, heavier than he expected.

trent blinked, taken aback. he knew how close she was to zaia—her best friend since childhood. this wasn’t just any wedding. it was a big deal, and she was asking him.

his thoughts spiraled. was this just another part of their arrangement? was she asking because it made sense, because they were supposed to be seen together? or did it mean something more?

but then he looked at her—at the way her hands nervously played with her napkin, the way she avoided his gaze, her cheeks faintly pink. there was something shy and vulnerable about her in that moment, something that tugged at a part of him he couldn’t quite name.

“it’s just… you know, it’s a big deal,” she rambled, her fingers tugging at the hem of her shirt. “they’re my family—like, real family, not just close friends—and everyone’s gonna be there. my best friends, my mom, everyone.” she paused, taking a breath. “i usually just go to these things solo and handle it fine. i’m okay flying solo most of the time, actually, but—”

her words tumbled out so fast that she barely had time to breathe between them, her voice rising slightly as nerves took over. she glanced up at him, her cheeks warm, feeling a little ridiculous for putting so much weight on this. “i don’t usually… ask anyone to stuff like this. but it feels right, asking you. so… yeah.”

trent’s chest tightened as her words settled over him. she was trying to sound casual, but this wasn’t casual at all. not for her.

she didn’t just bring anyone into that world—into something as sacred as family.

her family was private. important. untouchable.

and here she was, asking him to be a part of it.

“y/n,” he said, his voice softer than he intended, eyes searching hers.

she shifted under his gaze, suddenly regretting everything. “you don’t have to say yes, by the way,” she added quickly, trying to backtrack. “it’s totally fine if you’re busy or if it’s too much, i’ll just—”

“i’d love to,” trent interrupted, his lips curving into a slow smile.

her breath caught. “really?”

“yeah,” he said, leaning closer, his eyes holding hers with a warmth that made her feel like maybe she hadn’t just made a fool of herself. “i’m honored you even asked. it’s not just a wedding—it’s your family’s wedding.” he paused, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “that means a lot.”

she smiled back at him, the tension in her shoulders easing. “good,” she said softly, her voice steadying. “i’m glad you’ll be there.”

trent couldn’t stop thinking about how big this was. being her date meant something. being seen with her at something so personal, so intimate—she was letting him into a world she didn’t share with just anyone.

and he didn’t take that lightly.

the air in the stands was electric as fans filtered out of the stadium, still buzzing from england’s triumphant match. y/n was caught up in it all, her excitement evident in the way she practically glowed as she spoke to trent’s family about the game. she couldn’t stop smiling, her phone clutched tightly in her hands, still warm from snapping pictures throughout the match.

she hadn’t expected trent to come up to them so soon after the final whistle, but when she spotted him climbing the steps toward their section, her breath caught. his medal glinted under the stadium lights, the man of the match trophy in his hands as his gaze landed on her almost instantly.

he greeted his family first, sharing hugs and quick words of gratitude, but then he turned to her, his grin softening into something almost shy.

“you played incredible,” she said before he could say anything, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

“yeah?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes searching hers, as if her opinion mattered more than anyone else’s.

“you know you did.”

without a word, he leaned in and kissed her cheek, the gesture so quick and fleeting it almost felt imagined. her heart skipped at the contact, but she told herself it was just for the cameras. there were plenty of phones around, after all, and a player celebrating with someone in the stands was always a headline. she convinced herself it meant nothing as he handed her the trophy and slid into the seat between her and marcel.

“here,” he said, nodding toward the gleaming silver in her hands. “you should hold it.”

“what?” she blinked at him, cradling the trophy like it was fragile. “you’re seriously letting me hold this?

“why not?” he shrugged, the corner of his mouth tugging upward. “looks better in your hands anyway.”

she rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile pulling at her lips. her fingers traced over the engraving as she admired it up close, the weight of it grounding her excitement.

“pose with it,” trent said, pulling out his phone

“pose?” she laughed, glancing around nervously. “for what?”

“for appearances, of course,” he teased, his tone light but his eyes warm.

y/n gave him a mock glare but shifted the trophy slightly, holding it up as she puckered her lips in a playful air kiss. trent snapped a few photos, his grin widening with each click. when she lowered the trophy, she caught him staring at his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen as he uploaded one to his story.

“what?” she asked, raising a brow.

“nothing,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. but the way his smile lingered told her everything she needed to know.

as the conversation around them flowed, trent leaned closer, his attention fully on her now. “so,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “how’d you like the match?”

“oh, i loved it!” she said, her face lighting up. she unlocked her phone, scrolling quickly before turning the screen toward him. “look, i got some great pictures. see this one? and this? oh, and this!”

she flipped through shot after shot, her excitement spilling over with every frame. trent didn’t say much, just watched her with an expression she couldn’t quite place. pride, maybe? or something else entirely?

“you’re really into this, huh?” he asked, his voice soft.

“of course!” she said, glancing at him briefly before focusing back on her phone. “how could i not be? you were amazing out there, trent. seriously.”

he smiled at that, his chest swelling at the sincerity in her voice. “thanks,” he said quietly, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer before he turned back to the ongoing conversation, though his attention never fully left her.

she was wearing his shirt, holding his trophy, sitting with his family. it felt… right. and he didn’t want to let the moment go.

she was still scrolling through her phone, her excitement making her words tumble over each other as she recounted her favorite moments of the match. “and this one—look at how sharp you look here. oh, and this one’s from the free kick! the angle is perfect. i’m telling you, trent, you looked—”

he couldn’t help it anymore. the way her eyes sparkled when she talked, the way she was so genuinely proud of him, it made his chest ache in the best way. she was buzzing, glowing with excitement, and trent was captivated.

“y/n,” he said softly, interrupting her mid-sentence.

“what?” she asked, glancing up at him, her brows furrowing slightly.

before she could say anything else, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, cutting her off completely. it wasn’t hurried or forceful, just deliberate, like he’d been waiting for the perfect moment. her lips were soft, warm, and he could taste the faint sweetness of whatever lip balm she was wearing.

she froze for a second, her phone slipping slightly in her hands as the kiss caught her off guard. her heart was pounding, and when he finally pulled back, just enough to look her in the eye, her cheeks burned.

“what was that for?,” she breathed, her voice quiet and unsure.

“just cause,” he murmured, his gaze unwavering.

her lips parted, but no words came out. y/n, who always had something clever to say, was speechless for once, her thoughts racing faster than she could process.

“you—you can’t just do that,” she finally managed, her voice a mix of shyness and disbelief.

he chuckled softly, his hand brushing against hers as he leaned back slightly. “why not?”

“because…” she trailed off, her cheeks still flushed.

“because?” he prompted, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

she shook her head, unable to form a coherent response. instead, she turned back to her phone, pretending to focus on the screen even though she couldn’t stop glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

but trent didn’t stop watching her, his expression soft and full of something she couldn’t quite name. she felt it in the air between them, unspoken but undeniable. and as much as she wanted to brush it off, she couldn’t shake the way her chest tightened every time he looked at her like that.

the studio always felt like a different world to trent. a little sanctuary tucked away from everything, with dim lighting, soundproof walls, and the faint scent of vanilla lingering in the air. it was hers—every detail, every piece of equipment, every soft hum of music that filled the space—it all belonged to y/n in a way nothing else did. he could see it in the way she moved, the way her shoulders dropped in relief as soon as she crossed the threshold.

he liked being here. maybe a little too much.

his eyes drifted to her across the room as she adjusted a mic stand, her braids falling over her shoulder, lips slightly pursed in concentration. she had that effortless kind of beauty, the kind that hit him harder when she wasn’t even trying. no cameras, no crowds—just her, in her element.

he wanted to tell her how good she looked. how proud he was every time she let him listen to a new track. how his chest felt lighter just being near her. but he couldn’t. not really. not without risking the quiet thing they had, this unspoken closeness that felt too fragile to push.

because y/n was quick to pull away. always had been. she had a way of retreating whenever things got too heavy, too real. trent learned to read the signs: the slight shift in her tone, the way her smile would falter for a second before she’d brush it off with a joke. she’d never say it outright, but he knew her well enough to know when she was putting up walls.

so he stayed quiet. kept it light. he’d rather sit here and be a part of her world in whatever way she’d let him than risk saying something that would make her push him out.

“you sure you’re not bored?” y/n asked, turning to him with a raised brow, her eyes catching the soft light from the corner of the room.

“nah,” he said easily, leaning back in his chair, his lips curling into a small smile. “i like watching you work.”

she rolled her eyes, but he caught the way her lips twitched at the edges, trying not to smile back. “you say that now. wait until i start obsessing over one line for twenty minutes.”

trent chuckled, his gaze never leaving her. “i’ll survive.”

for y/n, it was strange having him here. this place had always been hers—a space where she could be messy, raw, vulnerable. no one ever stayed long enough to see what it meant to her. but trent was different.

he didn’t ask too many questions. didn’t hover or try to take control. he just… fit. like he belonged here without even trying.

she glanced at him from the corner of her eye as she fiddled with the controls. it felt good, having him here. warm, steady, grounding. almost dangerous, how easily she had gotten used to his presence.

y/n stood in the booth, her voice filling the studio with a sultry richness that had everyone’s attention, but none more so than trent’s. he leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, eyes fixed on her like she was the only thing in the room. she had this magnetic pull, something about her that made everything else disappear when she sang.

the track rolled into the second verse, and y/n’s voice dropped lower, almost like a secret, smooth and dripping with confidence. it curled around the words like they were meant to tease, to challenge.

"i bet you feel like that man when you next to me, just as you should. i know that you like your hands up on my body, toss me, it’s good..."

trent’s breath hitched, his jaw tightening as her words wrapped around him. the way she sang that—playful, almost daring—made his chest feel tight. he knew this was just music, knew she wasn’t supposed to be singing to him. but damn if it didn’t feel like she was. every line sent a jolt through him, her voice steady, deliberate.

"but you better play your position, don’t let it slip, better not fold. need loyalty, ‘cause i’m royalty with this grip, treat it like gold..."

his fingers tapped restlessly on his knee, his mind spiraling. this grip, treat it like gold... it wasn’t a stretch to imagine y/n writing those lines with him in mind. the thought made his stomach twist—half with pride, half with something much deeper. she was always guarded, never giving too much away, but this... this felt like a glimpse into the parts of her she kept locked up.

he wondered what it would be like if this wasn’t just a song. if they weren’t just flirting around the edges of something real. if he could actually claim her—not just in private moments but out there, for everyone to see. trent alexander-arnold, dating the biggest r&b talent in the game. the image burned itself into his brain, filling him with a dangerous kind of pride.

y/n finished the verse, stepping out of the booth with that casual confidence she always carried. she grabbed a bottle of water from the counter, taking a long sip, avoiding his gaze—like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“you wrote that?” trent asked finally, his voice low and rough.

she glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “yeah. it’s just a song.”

just a song, but his heart was still racing.

“that might be my new favorite,” he said, his hand finding her knee, thumb brushing over the fabric of her sweats. “seriously... loved it.”

her lips curved slightly, but there was a flicker of something else in her eyes—something vulnerable. “really?” she asked softly. she felt a warmth creep up her neck, her heart speeding up for reasons she couldn’t admit. the song was about him—every line, every note. but she’d never say that out loud.

“yeah,” trent said, his gaze holding hers. “i’ve listened to all your music. thought mad at me was the one, but this takes the cake.

y/n smiled softly as she let trent’s words sink in, her heart fluttering in a way she wasn’t used to. the quiet between them felt tender, almost fragile, like neither of them wanted to break it. she was about to say something, maybe even thank him again, when the engineer called her name, asking her to head back into the booth to re-record a section.

trent frowned immediately, his brows pulling together. "what? that was perfect," he said, his hand still resting on her knee as if to keep her in place. his voice held a mix of disbelief and protectiveness, like he couldn’t understand why anyone would want to change a single thing.

y/n laughed softly, reaching over to squeeze his wrist. "it’s just how it works," she teased, her voice light as she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "don’t look so offended."

his frown eased slightly, but he still didn’t seem convinced. "nah, seriously, they don’t know what they’re doing. it’s already a hit."

she shook her head, laughing again as she stood, adjusting her hoodie. "you’re biased," she said, giving him a playful look. "but thanks."

he leaned back into the couch, crossing his arms as he watched her. "so how long are you gonna be in there this time?"

she glanced over her shoulder as she reached the booth door. "could be a while," she admitted, shrugging. "if you wanna head out, it’s cool."

trent scoffed, sitting up straighter. "and leave you here? nah, i’m good."

her lips curved into a warm smile, something soft flickering in her chest. "okay," she said, her voice quieter this time.

as she stepped into the booth, she could still feel his gaze on her, steady and reassuring. even as the door closed behind her and the music started up again, she couldn’t help the way her cheeks burned from the memory of his words, his touch, and that quiet, tender moment that had left her feeling more seen than she ever had before.

trent’s living room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the television casting shadows across the room. fifa commentary droned in the background, but trent wasn’t paying attention anymore. his eyes flicked between the game and y/n, who was curled up against him, scrolling through tiktok with a lazy ease. her head rested on his chest, braids spilling over his arm as she chuckled softly at a video.

“look at this one,” she said, turning the phone toward him. “this trend is everywhere.”

he glanced at it briefly, smirking. “why do i feel like you’re about to make me do one of those with you?”

“because i am,” she teased, poking his side. “you’d look cute doing it.”

“not happening,” trent shot back, shaking his head with a laugh. “you’re not embarrassing me on the internet.”

she rolled her eyes dramatically and returned to scrolling, her body relaxed against his. it was comfortable. easy. the kind of easy that snuck up on you and made you forget that there were rules to whatever this was supposed to be.

but then his phone buzzed beside him, the screen lighting up with a notification. he glanced at it instinctively, his jaw tightening when he saw the name.

jadon.

his grip on the controller tightened, and for a moment, he debated saying nothing. but it ate at him too quickly. too loudly.

“you still talking to him?”

y/n blinked, caught off guard. she sat up slightly, her brows furrowed. “what?”

“jadon,” he repeated, nodding toward his phone. “you still talking to him?”

“oh.” her face softened. “i mean... not really. he just checks in sometimes. sees how i’m doing, you know?”

trent’s gaze didn’t waver. “and you’re sure that’s all it is?”

she shrugged, brushing it off like it was nothing. “yeah, it’s innocent. it’s not like he’s—” she paused, catching herself. “it’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.”

the words hit harder than she probably intended, their weight settling heavily between them. she wasn’t wrong—they weren’t together. not really. but hearing her say it out loud made something twist in his chest, a dull ache that caught him off guard.

y/n didn’t notice his shift. she leaned back into him, her focus already back on her phone as if nothing had changed. but for trent, everything had.

he clenched his jaw, the silence growing thicker, pressing in on him. “so you just let him check in? whenever he wants?”

her head shot up, eyes narrowing at the edge in his voice. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

trent leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his back no longer relaxed against the couch. “just seems like he still thinks he has a shot. that’s all i’m saying.”

y/n blinked, processing his sudden change in tone. “and so what if he does? why do you care?”

the question was soft, casual even, but it cut through the tension like a knife.

trent leaned back into the couch, jaw still tight as he watched her, tension crackling between them. the air felt thick, suffocating in the silence that followed. his eyes flicked toward his phone again, and something about the way her name lit up the screen on jadon’s message gnawed at him. his voice dropped lower, a little too sharp.

“you always let him back in, huh? just like before. always putting yourself in another mess.”

y/n froze. her fingers tightened around her phone, her face carefully blank even as her heart lurched at his words. she blinked, processing them, the sting more potent than she expected.

“another mess?” she echoed softly, voice calm but edged with something dangerous. “like this one?”

trent’s breath caught in his throat, his regret immediate. he opened his mouth to take it back, to soften the blow, but the damage was already done.

she sat up straighter, her gaze locking onto his now, eyes shining with something between disbelief and hurt. “if that’s how you see it, trent, then what the hell are we even doing?”

he rubbed a hand over his face, tension rolling off him in waves. “that’s not what I meant—”

“then what did you mean?” she pressed, folding her arms across her chest, her voice cracking slightly at the end. “because it sure sounds like you think this—me, you—was just some kind of mistake.”

trent hated himself for the flicker of pain in her eyes, for how vulnerable she looked in that moment. for how real it felt. he stood up, closing the space between them, his frustration melting into something softer.

“y/n, no,” he said, his voice gentler now. “you’re not a mistake. i didn’t mean it like that.”

“then why would you say it?” her voice dropped to a whisper, her walls cracking just enough for him to see the truth—the doubt she’d been hiding.

she stood anyway, brushing imaginary lint off her leggings. “it’s not a good idea for me to stay.” she paused, her voice quieter this time. “we can’t forget what this is.”

y/n stared at him, her heart in her throat, torn between every instinct screaming at her to protect herself and the pull of his words, his touch. she opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

trent’s voice was barely above a whisper. “don’t go.”

her words felt more like a reminder to herself than him, her eyes refusing to meet his as she grabbed her phone.

“y/n,” trent said, standing too. his hand brushed against hers, lingering for a second too long. “you don’t have to go.”

she shook her head, forcing a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “i do.”

he wanted to argue, wanted to pull her back down onto the couch and make her stay until the tension eased and they could go back to laughing at tiktoks. but the look in her eyes stopped him—something fragile and uncertain, something he wasn’t sure he could fix in that moment.

and just like that, she slipped out the door, leaving him standing there, the words he couldn’t say caught in his throat.

trent sat back down, running a hand through his curls, his fifa game still paused on the screen. he hated how much her absence suddenly filled the room, how the air felt heavier without her in it.

and all he could think about was the way she said, we can’t forget what this is—because the truth was, trent wasn’t sure what this was anymore. but whatever it was, it mattered. more than he was ready to admit.

the bridal shop smelled like fresh fabric and lavender candles, soft afrobeats playing faintly in the background. racks of flowing gowns lined the walls, glittering under the warm lights. y/n hadn’t been to a fitting like this in forever, surrounded by zaia and her cousins, laughter spilling from every corner of the shop. it felt easy, familiar, and for a moment, she forgot how much she’d missed this—how lonely things had felt lately, despite how much she loved trent’s company.

she loved being around him, craved it even, but the lines were getting blurry. dangerous.

as she disappeared behind the curtain, the air shifted, quieter, almost intimate. the fabric of the emerald green gown was soft beneath her fingertips, heavy and rich, embroidered with gold and glittering stones that caught the light every time she moved. y/n adjusted it carefully, catching her reflection in the mirror. for a second, a fleeting thought crossed her mind—if she ever had a wedding of her own, would it look like this? would she wear something this stunning?

but no man came to mind. not really.

her brain whispered a name, low and familiar, but she shook it off. it wasn’t trent. it couldn’t be.

“god, this dress is heavy,” y/n called out, brushing the thought away as she adjusted the fabric on her shoulder.

“beauty is pain, babe,” one of zaia’s cousins teased, laughing from the other side of the curtain.

zaia’s voice was calm, steady. “is it fitting okay?”

“yeah,” y/n said softly, smoothing the front one last time before glancing at herself again. for a second, she let herself admire the way it clung to her curves, the way it made her feel like royalty. the matching fan rested on a stool nearby, waiting to complete the look.

behind the curtain, she hesitated, glancing at zaia. “you really think it’s okay if i bring trent to the wedding?” her voice was softer now, a little unsure.

zaia arched a brow, leaning forward on the cushioned bench. “why wouldn’t it be okay?”

y/n shrugged, fingers brushing the delicate stones on her dress. “i don’t know. it’s just… complicated.”

zaia tilted her head, her tone casual, but there was something in her eyes—something sharp. “complicated how? y/n, you’ve been spending all your time with him lately. it’s cute, but… girl, you know you’re gonna have to tell that boy you like him eventually, right?”

y/n peeked at zaia, eyes wide. “it’s not like that,” she muttered, though her pulse picked up at the words.

zaia smirked. “oh, it’s not? babe, it’s like watching a slow-motion car wreck. you both like each other, and it’s so obvious it hurts. just do something about it before we all go insane.”

y/n’s laugh was soft, almost nervous. “you’re dramatic.”

“you’re in denial,” zaia shot back, grinning.

before y/n could respond, she took a breath, pushed back the curtain, and stepped out. every conversation in the room stopped, all eyes snapping to her as she walked into the light, the gown shimmering with every step.

“y/n…” zaia whispered, standing slowly. “you look… beautiful.”

y/n spun in front of the mirror, her lips curving into a small smile. “you think? i feel like a princess or something.”

“a queen,” zaia corrected, her eyes warm. “green is definitely your color.”

the cousins agreed, pulling out their phones to snap pictures, laughter filling the space again as one of them adjusted y/n’s gele, making sure it sat perfectly.

but then, just as everything settled, zaia’s expression shifted—her lips parting slightly, her eyes suddenly glassy.

y/n froze, her heart thudding. “zaia, are you… crying?”

zaia laughed through her tears, wiping her face quickly. “sorry, i’ve just been… emotional lately. it’s ridiculous.”

concern flickered across y/n’s face. “are you okay? should i call cash?” she asked, already reaching for her phone.

zaia grabbed her wrist gently, shaking her head. “no, no—don’t call him. actually, there’s… something we were going to tell you together today, but…” her voice cracked. “i can’t wait. i need you to know now.”

y/n’s breath caught. “zaia, what is it?”

zaia hesitated for just a moment before the words tumbled out in a rush. “i’m pregnant.” her voice shook as she spoke, a soft sob escaping her lips. “you’re the first person i’ve told.”

the world tilted slightly, y/n’s mind struggling to catch up. her eyes welled up instantly, her hand flying to her mouth. “zaia… are you serious?”

zaia nodded, tears streaming down her face. “i’ve been dying to tell you. cash and i were going to do it together, but… i couldn’t wait. i needed you to know.”

y/n almost buckled at the weight of it, rushing forward to wrap zaia in a tight hug, their bodies trembling together as tears fell freely.

“oh my god,” y/n whispered against her shoulder, her voice thick with emotion. “i’m so happy for you. you’re going to be the most amazing mom. i can’t believe this.”

zaia laughed through her sobs, clutching y/n tighter. “thank you. i was so nervous, but… hearing you say that makes me feel like everything’s going to be okay.”

y/n pulled back just enough to cup zaia’s face, wiping her tears gently. her own tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t care. “it is going to be okay. more than okay. and i’ll be here with you every step of the way, you hear me?”

zaia nodded, sniffling. “i hear you.”

a beat of silence passed, warm and steady, before y/n laughed softly, shaking her head. “i’m gonna be the best aunt.”

zaia’s smile brightened, her eyes sparkling. “god mother. we want you to be the baby’s godmother.”

the words hung in the air for a second, heavy and beautiful.

y/n’s mouth fell open, her hand flying to her chest. “zaia… are you serious?”

“of course,” zaia said, her voice cracking again. “there’s no one else it could be.”

the tears returned full force, and y/n hugged her again, clutching her tightly. “i love you so much,” she whispered.

“i love you too,” zaia said softly.

and as they stood there, wrapped in their own little world, y/n knew this moment would stay with her forever—a reminder that love came in all forms, steady and unwavering, right when you needed it most.

y/n pulled into trent’s driveway, the car’s headlights casting long shadows on the driveway. her pulse quickened, but it wasn’t just from the excitement of seeing him again. she had needed to be near him, to escape the overwhelming sense of closeness she had felt at the fitting. the laughter, the hugs, the anticipation of her best friend’s wedding... it had all left her with a bittersweet ache in her chest. she had been happy, but it only highlighted how much she longed for something deeper, more intimate, something to anchor her in the midst of the swirling love and joy.

when the door opened, trent stood there, casual in a hoodie and sweatpants, looking effortlessly perfect. his eyes immediately locked onto hers, searching her face with that familiar intensity.

“have you been crying?” his voice softened, the concern obvious in his eyes.

y/n gave a half-smile, blinking rapidly to hold back any more tears. “happy tears,” she said, but there was a lingering tremor in her voice. “it was a good day. zaia’s wedding is really coming together.”

trent didn't look convinced. he reached for her hand, pulling her into the warmth of the house without saying another word. the house was quiet, cozy, and comforting in a way only trent’s home could be.

“you sure you’re okay?” trent asked again, his voice low and calm as he led her to the living room. “you’ve got that look.”

“i’m fine,” y/n insisted, brushing it off as she sat down beside him on the couch. “i just didn’t feel like being alone after everything. thought i’d come here, you know?”

trent settled beside her, his arm easily wrapping around her, pulling her closer. they both sank into the couch, the soft fabric of the cushions embracing them like a cocoon. y/n rested her head on his chest, and for a moment, all she could hear was the steady thud of his heartbeat, a calming rhythm she found herself syncing with.

there was something comforting about the way trent always seemed to know when she needed him. the way he held her without question, without hesitation. it made her feel like she belonged, even if it was only for this moment. he gently stroked her back, a slow, soothing motion that made her feel safe.

“you looked really beautiful tonight, you know?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “something about you in that dress—it was like you were glowing. i could see it. i mean, i always think you look good, but tonight was... different.”

y/n chuckled softly, her lips brushing against his chest. “i wasn’t even planning to go, but i’m glad i did. you’re sweet for saying that.”

they sat in silence for a while, the only sounds the crackle of the fire in the corner of the room and the soft music playing in the background. but after a while, y/n shifted, her thoughts swirling again. her mind wandered to the wedding, to the love in the room, to the future that seemed so certain for her friends and family... and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty that clung to her heart.

“do you ever think about getting married?” she asked, her voice quiet, almost hesitant as she gazed up at him, her face just inches from his.

trent’s eyebrows knitted together in surprise, his hand pausing mid-motion on her back. “where did that come from?”

y/n shrugged, forcing a lighthearted smile. “well, not to me, not like that,” she joked quickly, but there was an edge of something deeper to her words. “i mean, in general, you know?”

he leaned back, his eyes scanning her face as if trying to read something between the lines. after a moment of hesitation, he nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “yeah, i’ve thought about it. when the right person comes along, i guess.”

there was a slight pause, a quiet moment where they both seemed to be waiting for something unspoken. trent’s eyes softened as he considered the idea, his mind drifting.

y/n waited, but when he didn’t speak, she tilted her head, looking up at him curiously. “what? no ‘you’ in there?” she teased lightly.

“well...” he paused again, as if the thought had just occurred to him. and yet, as he imagined the life he might want, he couldn’t picture it with anyone but her. it was as if she had always been there in the background of his mind, the one constant he never truly acknowledged until now.

he imagined waking up beside her on lazy mornings, the sound of her laughter filling their shared home as they made breakfast together. he saw the two of them walking hand in hand through a park on a crisp autumn afternoon, with the warmth of their connection tangible, unshakable. he imagined late nights in their living room, surrounded by books, papers, and random ideas, sharing thoughts, dreams, and fears.

he imagined them growing old together—her smile still as bright, her laugh still as contagious, but the lines of age marking their faces, evidence of a life well-lived. he couldn’t picture a future without her, without the way she made him feel: grounded, loved, understood.

“i can only picture you, y/n,” he wanted to say quietly, his voice filled with a raw sincerity that surprised him. “when i think about spending my life with someone... it’s you. i can’t see anyone else. maybe that sounds crazy, but it’s just the truth.”

“yeah,” he settled on, his voice softer now. “when the right person comes along, i guess.”

y/n felt a rush of warmth in her chest, her heart swelling in a way she hadn’t expected. “i used to think it wasn’t in the cards for me,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the edge of his shirt absentmindedly. “like maybe love and marriage... it wasn’t for me. i thought i wasn’t lovable enough for something like that.”

trent’s heart ached at her words, and without thinking, he pulled her closer, brushing his lips against her forehead. “you’re more than enough, y/n. you’re everything. never think you’re anything less than that.”

her breath caught again, the tears threatening to return. but she fought them back, focusing on his words, on the warmth of his arms around her.

“i don’t know,” she whispered. “maybe marriage is possible. maybe... maybe it’s something i can see for myself now. maybe with the right person.”

trent’s hand cupped her face gently, lifting her gaze to meet his. “you’re never going to be alone, y/n. not with me.”

the sincerity in his voice was almost too much, and y/n swallowed hard, feeling overwhelmed by everything. but it felt right. being here with him, in his arms, feeling safe, feeling loved.

she smiled softly. “thanks for always being here for me.”

“always,” trent whispered, leaning down to kiss her forehead again.

they sat there in silence, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air, but there was something peaceful in it, too. for the first time in a long time, y/n felt like maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t alone in the world. maybe, just maybe, she was meant for more than she had ever believed.

© PDRIESTA 2025

[sojatoals]

while rewatching this scene, i realized house was one bastardly (affectionate) liar.

because we were NOT going to forget the fact that while vulnerable conversations are uncomfortable to him, he 1) gives wilson space (whereas he usually crosses boundaries) and 2) offers to help, but only if it could help wilson get better.

or the time when house offered his company to wilson. several things about this episode make me unbelievably happy, like how once house figures out that wilson's strange unavailability is a more intimate topic and dismisses chase, and how house comforts wilson in a way that doesn't betray the consistency of his character.

and lastly, at the start of wilson's cancer treatment, house offering to be there for wilson as he explores chemotherapy options.

[goldenpinof]

i genuinely don't know how to start this post. the formating is gonna be ugly as fuck, apologies in advance! <3

i just wanted to say thank you to everyone who i met (and who met me) at the last 2 shows and who found the time to say hi! i really appreciate it, and it means the world to me 🥹

also, huge thanks to everyone i met all across Europe in September. i definitely don't know everyone's usernames but it doesn't matter, i'm just so glad i had a chance to participate in phannie gatherings and talk to or just be surrounded by beautiful, creative and funny people! it's such an honour!!! it's been a long tour, but fuck it if phannie meetups aren't the best part of it! to all phannies who can go through so much no matter how tired we are, thank you all so so much 🫶

the Icelandic gang, that i have to mention separately and that now has matching t-shirts 🧡 you gave me something i've never deserved or could never fucking dream of. i'll be forever grateful for every conversation, long or short, and for every smile and laughter. no matter how hard it was at times, we fucking did it! it feels insane to even think about it from start to finish.

i'd shout out everyone, but i'm afraid it would sound like i'm bragging at some point.

i've always been saying that i love phannie gatherings, and dnp tours are special pretty much because of the people attending the shows. if not for each of you, this wouldn't be as interesting, exciting, and enjoyable as it was. phandom, and specifically tumblr phandom, will always have a special place in my heart. bitch, no one and nothing can compare to y'all! never forget that.

i'm also sorry if i said something wrong in the moment and didn't apologise. could have easily happened. and i'm sorry for my boring ass and awkward silence sometimes. speaking English is hard, i don't recommend 😩

i can't believe we survived all 69 shows! who would have thought? not me <3

[moodymelanist]

Freak Like Me Chapter Three

happy day 5 of @sjmromanceweek everyone. it's time for our favorite trope: making Cassian beg.

Summary: Nesta works Cassian over.

Read on AO3 here!

✵✵✵✵✵✵ Cassian

Cassian was in a little bit of a daze on his way home, somehow managing to drive back to Columbia Heights and make it into his apartment safely. He wasn’t so scatterbrained that he was going to forget to text Nesta back, though, so once he’d locked the door behind him he pulled out his phone and checked in like she’d asked.

Cassian Hernández, 8:34 PM

Just got home

Nesta Archeron, 8:37 PM

Good. I’ll call you on Wednesday?

Cassian Hernández, 8:38 PM

ok :)

Nesta Archeron, 8:40 PM

Cute. Have a good night.

Cassian Hernández, 8:40 PM

You too

Cassian smiled when Nesta liked his message, but once he realized their conversation was over, he was at a bit of a loss for what to do for the rest of the night. Jacking off again was pretty much a given, but that wouldn’t kill all his time for the rest of the night.

In the end, he ended up jacking off twice, all the possibilities of what Nesta would do to him simply too much for him to handle. It was worth having to remake his bed before he went to sleep for the night.

✵✵✵✵✵✵

After work on Tuesday, Cassian found himself at yet another after work happy hour. Nesta wasn’t here to keep him company, but he figured catching up with some of his best friends was a pretty good consolation prize.

“Hey Cass,” Rhys said once Cassian was close enough, standing up from the booth to grab Cassian’s hand and give him a one-armed hug. He had on a crisp white button-up and a pair of perfectly tailored navy slacks as though he’d come right from Deloitte’s office; knowing him, he probably had. “Been a minute.”

“Good to see you too, Rhys,” Cassian said back with a roll of his eyes. He returned Rhys’ hug briefly before turning to clap Azriel on the shoulder with a wide grin. “Hey, Az.”

“Hey,” Azriel replied, raising his beer in greeting. He shifted to make room so Cassian could sit next to him and Cassian slid in gratefully. “How’s it going?”

Their friend group tried to meet up once a month when they could, but Amren was away on a work trip and Mor was away for fun, so that left the three of them. Their plans were never as elaborate as Mor or Amren’s so they usually settled with their usual happy hour and pool night at their favorite bar. 

Once they got some food in their stomachs, they paid their server, grabbed their drinks, and migrated over to the pool table in the back room. Someone had just finished a game, so they took a few minutes to rerack all the pool balls and organize them for a game of three before they got started.

“So,” Cassian began once he’d taken his shot. “What’s new?”

Azriel took his shot next before he answered. “Nothing new for me.”

“How’s Eris?” Rhys asked, reaching for the chalk so he could rub some on the top of his cue stick.

“He’s good,” Azriel responded, a tiny little smile breaking through his otherwise stoic expression. He and Eris had been dating for a few months now, and clearly things were going well. “He wants to go away for Valentine’s Day weekend.”

“Perks of dating a lawyer,” Cassian told him with a grin. Eris worked in one of those fancy offices on K Street, and he briefly wondered if he and Nesta knew each other before forcing himself to focus on the conversation in front of him. “Where are you guys gonna go?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel answered, shrugging. “Probably someplace warm. We’re both tired of freezing our asses off.”

“Amen to that, Az,” Rhys chimed in. He took a sip of his beer before finally taking his shot, and then it was Cassian’s turn. “Speaking of dating… I think I met someone.”

“You think?” Cassian took his shot and then turned to look at Rhys with a teasing smirk. “What, is she imaginary? Or does she go to a different school?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Rhys retorted over Cassian and Azriel’s combined laughter. “No, she’s very real. She’s an artist.”

“An artist, huh?” Azriel asked. He caught Cassian’s eye just long enough for Cassian to tell they weren’t done teasing Rhys. “Surprised that didn’t make all your gold digger alarms go off.”

“She’s not like that,” Rhys immediately defended his new crush. She must have really been something for him to defend her so fast. “She runs a nonprofit teaching art to underprivileged kids, and she freelances on the side.”

“Very noble of her,” Cassian replied, grinning, “but I’m surprised you didn’t walk into your first date with a prenup ready to be signed.”

“You know Cass, you’re talking a lot of shit for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since…” Rhys trailed off for dramatic effect, pretending to count on his fingers. “Shit, actually, I don’t even know.”

“Fuck you, I dated Dierdre last year and you know that,” Cassian fired back.

“Cass, that was 2023,” Azriel said slowly, like he was talking to a little kid. Cassian rolled his eyes at how hard Rhys was starting to laugh; he supposed it was his turn on the chopping block. “It’s 2025 now.”

“Okay, fine, whatever,” Cassian said back. “But I just went on a date a few weeks ago, thank you very much.”

“At least you’re out there, buddy,” Rhys responded, laughing as Cassian half-heartedly tried to hit him on the arm. “I’m sure your person will come!”

Cassian rolled his eyes, doing his best to seem chill even though internally he was anything but chill thinking about the truth of his situation. He wasn’t about to get into the specifics of his arrangement with Nesta and how she was essentially leading him around by the dick when she wasn’t his girlfriend; his friends weren’t assholes, but he wasn’t about to get into his deepest, darkest desires in a bar in Adams Morgan. Rhys and Azriel could enjoy their teasing, and Cassian would have to just suck it up. “We can’t all be as lucky as you, Rhysie.”

✵✵✵✵✵✵

Teasing aside, it was good to catch up with Rhys and Az, and it took his mind off waiting around for Nesta to finally reach out. He made it home in one piece and managed not to rub one out for the first night in at least a week, which was a perverse accomplishment he’d keep to himself, thanks.

When the next morning finally rolled around, Cassian felt like a kid who knew his mom had gotten him something good for Christmas but he wasn’t exactly sure what was inside the wrapping paper. Nesta hadn’t specified what time she would call him, so he was just riding the high of knowing he’d talk to her at some point today rather than freaking out. 

He assumed she’d call him after work, and his intuition turned out to be correct; she called him while he was cooking dinner and he was more than happy to put down his wooden spoon to pick up his phone instead.

“Hello?” Cassian said, already smiling. He knew he should probably pull it together when it came to Nesta, but he really didn’t want to.

“Hi,” Nesta said back. She sounded like she was laying on something soft — he could hear her moving some fabric around, and he thought it was maybe her comforter or a nice, soft blanket. He liked the thought of her all wrapped up and cozy. “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

“No, I’m just cooking some dinner,” he told her. He eyed the flame on his stove and turned it down just a little bit. “How are you?”

“Hungrier, now that I’m talking to you,” she responded dryly, pulling a laugh out of him without even trying. “What’s for dinner?”

“One of those one pot chicken and rice recipes I saw online,” he answered. He gave the food one last stir before stepping back to sit at his kitchen island. “It’s my first time making it, so I hope it turns out okay.”

Cassian could tell Nesta was rolling her eyes at his attempt at being modest. “Save it, Bobby Flay. You know I don’t like you selling yourself short.”

“Okay, okay, I know my way around the kitchen,” he admitted. He was the unofficial chef of his friend group, but he wasn’t about to give her more fuel for the fire right now. “Just say the word and I’ll cook for you anytime, sweetheart.”

“Good to know,” she replied. “But speaking of saying the word…”

He laughed again. “Yeah, I figured that’s what you wanted to talk about.”

“Gold star for you, Cassian,” Nesta responded, just on the edge of being patronizing. “What time are you coming over on Friday?”

“Maybe around 6:30 or 7?” Cassian offered. His office closed an hour earlier on Fridays, but he didn’t want to even think about risking being late considering DC traffic. “If that works for you?”

“Mhmmm… let’s do 7,” she told him. He could hear her typing, and he wondered if she was updating the calendar invite he was very sure she kept. “Wear something comfortable.”

“Okay,” he agreed easily, wondering now how much time she’d scheduled for him. An hour? Two? Longer? He supposed he’d finally find out in two days. “Anything else?”

“Greedy,” she said without much heat.

“You know I can’t help it,” he said back. It was maybe a little too honest, but she’d had his number within the span of drinks and an appetizer, so he’d left his shame behind him that same night.

“Fine. Don’t touch your dick more than necessary until I see you,” she told him casually. “I have plans for it.”

“Okay,” he breathed, his cock twitching in his pants despite his best efforts to stay calm. I should’ve jerked off again while I had the chance, he thought, but who was he kidding? It was more than worth giving up masturbating if it meant she’d lead him around by the dick, and wow, that was a fun thought. “Yeah. Whatever you want.”

“There’s a good boy,” she practically purred into the phone. “I’ll see you on Friday. Have a good night.”

Nesta hung up without waiting for his response. Cassian didn’t know how long he sat there thinking about Nesta calling him a good boy like that, but it was long enough that he jumped when the timer on his phone went off reminding him to check on his dinner.

His one pot meal came out a little crispier than he’d planned, but it was a worthy sacrifice. 

✵✵✵✵✵✵

Thursday passed in what felt like a blur, and once Cassian walked out of the office on Friday, he could hardly stop fidgeting. He had so much nervous energy that he had to do a quick workout once he made it back to his building, running through a shorter, less intense version of his usual full-body circuit. He didn’t know exactly what Nesta had in store for him tonight, and disappointing her was not an option. 

Once he sweated it out for forty-five minutes, he felt a little bit better. He left the gym in his building and headed upstairs to his apartment, already thinking about the nice, long shower he was going to take. He didn’t want to assume anything, but it was always best to be prepared; he took some time to clean up the hair around his dick and thoroughly scrub every crack and crevice on his body in case Nesta wanted to explore. He even made sure his fingernails were carefully filed down before he moisturized his face and body, and he took a few minutes to fluff out his hair properly before heading into his closet to figure out what to wear. 

Nesta had said to wear something comfortable, so Cassian figured he couldn’t go wrong with some of his nicer athleisure — this stuff was usually too nice to wear to the gym, so at least he could finally put it to good use. He looked through his dresser drawers until he found a white shirt and navy joggers, and he pulled on some socks and matching white sneakers to go with it. He didn’t know what to expect tonight, but hopefully this would fit his needs. 

Once he was dressed, Cassian made sure to put on deodorant and a little bit of cologne so he’d smell good without being overpowering. He still had about half an hour before he could reasonably leave, and while he’d normally make himself something to eat for dinner, he was a little too jittery to try and put some real food in his stomach. Instead, he grabbed two granola bars from his stash and plopped on the couch to try and distract himself with something on TV, half-paying attention to the newest episode of Abbott Elementary while he ate his snacks. 

Eventually, the time finally came for him to make the drive over to Nesta’s place, and Cassian hopped up like he’d been stung when he saw the time. He took several deep breaths before grabbing his phone, keys, and wallet and stepping outside of his apartment, and then he was on his way. He couldn’t stop bouncing his leg or tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he maneuvered DC traffic, but he knew he’d much rather get all his anxieties out now before he came face to face with Nesta. 

Realistically, he knew he was probably going to have a good time. He was more than attracted enough to Nesta, and she’d said repeatedly that she liked him and wanted to do this. He didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, but he did know he wouldn’t have to worry about pretending to want to be in charge, so at least he had that going for him. Nesta wouldn’t laugh at him, or make fun of him, or say he was a freak for wanting what he did — at least, not in a way that they wouldn’t enjoy. 

Cassian knew it would be more than fine, but that didn’t stop him from worrying a little bit anyway. If he wanted to really enjoy himself tonight, though, he was going to have to get his shit together before he saw Nesta, so once he’d parked and was waiting for the elevator to her floor, he tried to mentally hype himself up a little bit. 

It’s gonna be fine, he tried to tell himself. She likes you. She wants to make you beg until you cry. It’s gonna be more than fine. 

It worked a little bit, but eventually the elevator dinged on the fifth floor and it was game time. Cassian walked down the hallway, and once he reached Nesta’s apartment, he wiped his hands on his pants and took one last deep breath before he gently knocked on the door.

“Hey,” Nesta said once she opened the door. She had on a white button-up shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, and instead of her usual braided coronet, half of her hair was pulled back from her face. She looked so beautiful with her hair down it was a miracle he was able to focus on what she was actually saying to him, and he managed to get it together just in time to hear her add, “Glad you made it. Come in.”

“Thanks,” Cassian said back, perking up like a dog with a bone at her choice of words. Her apartment looked the same as the last time he’d been here, though this time he noticed what looked like a Kindle sitting on her coffee table right next to an almost-empty glass of water. “Is that a Kindle? What are you reading?”

“Nosy,” she replied without any heat. She locked the door behind them before giving his sneakers a pointed look, and as he removed his sneakers, she added, “Yes, it’s a Kindle. Maybe if you’re good I’ll tell you what’s in my library.”

“I can do that,” he responded, grinning. He put his sneakers on her shoe rack and shrugged out of his coat before asking, “Where do you want me?”

She eyed him for a moment before beckoning him over to the kitchen. Despite her open floor plan, he hadn’t spent much time looking over here, but he liked the ample cabinet space and large island in lieu of a proper dining room table. “Wash your hands.”

Cassian draped his coat over one of her barstools before walking over to her sink, taking a few pumps of her floral-scented soap so he could wash his hands thoroughly. Nesta passed him one of her dish towels so he could dry his hands and he turned to look at her expectantly once he was done. 

“Did you eat before you got here?” Nesta asked, her gaze turning considering. He felt like she was staring straight through him as he leaned back against her kitchen counter, the fridge a cool wall to his right. 

“I had two granola bars,” Cassian answered sheepishly. At her unimpressed look, he felt compelled to defend himself. “I know, I know. I was just, ah…a little nervous.” 

“Nervous about what?” she questioned in that direct way of hers. 

“I didn’t know what to expect,” he told her honestly. He could feel the beginnings of a blush creeping across his cheeks, but he suspected it would only be the first of many tonight so he didn’t fight it too hard. “I was thinking about a lot of. Um. Possibilities.”

“Were you now?” she responded, the hint of a smirk appearing on her full lips as she took a few steps closer to him. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. It was almost hard to focus with her standing so close and looking at him like that, but somehow he managed to add, “I don’t eat much when I get nervous.”

Nesta tsked. “Big guy like you? We can’t have that, Cassian.”

“I— I guess not,” Cassian answered, nearly swallowing his tongue when she stepped so close to him that their fronts were pressed together. All the blood in his body rushed south so quickly it was a miracle he didn’t sway on his feet, and even if he’d wanted to move, he was pressed against her countertop with nowhere to run. 

“You said you’re good in the kitchen,” she said seemingly out of nowhere. She reached up onto her toes, and he had to hold back a whimper as she rocked right against his rapidly hardening cock. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he managed to say back. He was going to spontaneously combust or something, holy shit. “I am.”

“Why don’t we put those skills to good use, hmm?” she asked. He was mostly sure it was a rhetorical question, but that didn’t stop him from nodding like he was a goddamned bobble head. “We’ll put some food in your stomach, and then…”

Cassian choked on his next breath as Nesta managed to get a hand in between their bodies, her slender hand palming his cock through his pants before rubbing up and down a few times. “Nesta…”

“…And then we’ll see about the other big guy,” she finished. She squeezed his cock before stepping to the side to open one of her cabinets and pass him a wooden cutting board. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he breathed as soon as he remembered how to form words. “Yeah. Okay.”

Cassian waited until Nesta had taken a seat at her island before he turned to open her fridge. It was decently stocked, and he pulled out a few things to try and assemble something that would pass muster. He somehow managed to make a passable charcuterie board with some meat, grapes, and cheese without losing his mind too much, despite his dick being distractingly hard and Nesta just being distracting, period. 

“Do you,” Cassian tried to say after a few minutes. Speaking coherently was harder than he’d anticipated, so he swallowed and tried again. “Do you have any crackers?”

He hadn’t made a ton of charcuterie boards in his life, but crackers tended to be on all of them. 

“No,” Nesta answered. “I hate dealing with the crumbs. Are you finished with that?”

“Yeah,” he replied, reaching out to subtly push one of the cheese cubes back into place. “I think so.”

“Looks good,” she told him. She leaned over the counter and reached over to snag the cheese cube he’d just pushed into place, keeping her eyes locked on him as she popped it into her mouth and made a satisfied little noise. “Mhmm. That’s good.”

“Thank you,” he managed to respond. His brain was bouncing between her saying something nice and the sound she’d just made like some kind of horny pinball machine, and he couldn’t pick which thing was sexier so he just gave up and decided on both. 

“You’re welcome. Now come on,” Nesta said, motioning for him to pick up the board he’d made. “We don’t have all night. Let’s go.”

Cassian dutifully picked up his board and followed Nesta down the hall and into the second door on the left, revealing the guest room she’d mentioned previously. It was half office and half guest room; there was a daybed with two bookshelves on either side on one wall, and a fancy desk and ergonomic chair on the other. He wasn’t entirely certain he’d fit laying down on that, but maybe that was the point. 

“I’ll take that,” Nesta told him once he’d looked his fill. He handed over the board and waited for her to tell him what else to do. “Shut the door.”

“Okay,” Cassian agreed. While she moved toward the bed, he turned and gently shut the door behind them; he didn’t bother to lock it considering they were the only ones here. 

When he turned back around, Nesta was sitting on the edge of the bed with the board directly to her left. He wanted to go to her immediately, but he wanted to be good even more, so he just stood there and let her look him over. 

“Come over here and sit,” she said after a minute or two. He crossed the room in a few long strides and was about to climb on the daybed when she tsked, and he froze the second his knee touched the comforter. “No. On the ground.”

Cassian slowly backed away from the bed and sank to the ground. Nesta handed him a pillow from off the bed and he took it, shoving it under his knees as he got as close to her legs as he dared. 

Turned out, he was feeling pretty daring. His face was basically pressing against her denim-covered thigh, and he couldn’t drag up an ounce of shame about it. She didn’t seem to mind, though, so he wouldn’t stress out about it. 

“Comfortable?” she asked once he’d stopped fidgeting. 

“Yes,” he answered, turning his face up so he could make proper eye contact. 

Cassian was by no means a small man, but the way Nesta was looking down at him made him feel like he was two feet tall in the best way possible. Looking at her was like staring directly into the sun, but he didn’t dare avert his gaze with how intensely she was staring at him. 

“You doing okay?” she questioned more pointedly. 

“Yeah,” he breathed. Then his brain caught up a little, and he realized she was trying to check in with him properly. “I’m good. I mean, I’m green.”

“Smart boy,” she replied, reaching down to run her hand over his hair. “Now open up.”

Cassian’s lips parted automatically just in time for Nesta to feed him a grape. It was perfectly firm and sweet, and she watched him chew on it for a few seconds before she said anything. 

“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Nesta said, raising her eyebrows expectantly. 

Cassian’s swallow was so loud there was no way she didn’t hear it. “Thank you.”

“Was that so hard?” she told him. He shook his head no and she added, “Exactly. Don’t make me tell you again.”

He was a little curious what she would do to him if she had to tell him again, but the part of him that was so desperate to be good absolutely refused to even entertain the idea. So he just nodded and waited patiently for her to feed him the next bite of food, which turned out to be a little cube of cheddar.

“Thank you,” he murmured once he was finished chewing and swallowing. 

Cassian kneeled there and let Nesta feed him until he lost track of time. He could’ve been there for twenty minutes or twenty hours; he didn’t know, and he certainly wasn’t complaining. His focus had narrowed to the feel of her fingers pressing various food between his lips, to the satisfied expression in her eyes every time he bit down, to the bite of his knees digging into the floor despite the pillow there. 

She had him hook, line, and fucking sinker. He was more than happy about that.

“Last one,” Nesta eventually murmured. She guided what was apparently the last grape between his lips and her fingers lingered for a moment, somehow making his head spin even more than it already was. 

“Thank you,” Cassian whispered once he was finished. He didn’t know how it was possible to be this turned on just by her hand-feeding him, but holy shit was this in the top five hottest things that had ever happened to him.

Who was he kidding — this was definitely the hottest thing that had ever happened to him. She hadn’t even touched his dick properly yet, and he was two seconds away from panting like a dog and begging her to. He didn’t know how he was going to keep it together for whatever else she had in store for him, but Jesus Christ he was going to have to. 

“Why don’t you come up here and sit next to me,” Nesta said, stroking his hair again before she let go of him. “Go slow. I don’t need you falling all over yourself even more than you already are.”

Cassian’s cheeks were on fire as he slowly got to his feet, shaking out his legs a little bit after he’d been kneeling all that time. He had to hold back a sigh of relief as the blood came back to his legs, but judging by the amused look in Nesta’s eye, he could’ve just let the sound out. Something to file away for later, he told himself. 

“Take off your shirt and pants,” she told him after a few seconds. “And fold your clothes, for fuck’s sake. I’m sure your mother didn’t raise you to be a slob.”

“Okay,” he agreed, trying really hard not to cross his wires between his mommy issues and Nesta and failing miserably. It wasn’t really working, but he had other things to worry about right now, so he carefully took off his clothes and folded them like she’d told him to. “Where should I…?”

“The chair’s fine,” she answered. She sat back on her hands and watched him do as she asked, and he could feel her eyes lingering on him as he turned to neatly place his clothes on her chair. “Stand there for a second?”

Cassian turned to face her and did his best not to fidget as Nesta looked her fill, those gray-blue eyes sweeping over every inch of him with startling intensity. He could feel her gaze on him like a weight, as if she were touching him with those perfectly manicured fingers instead of merely looking him over, and when her eyes lingered on his hard cock tenting his underwear for several long moments, he had to start thinking about the Ravens and the Commanders losing their respective games to stop himself from coming on the spot.

“I see all that gym time is paying off,” Nesta told him after what felt like an eternity. He thought it was a compliment, but the slightly patronizing edge to her words had another blush creeping across his face. “Lose the underwear.”

Cassian’s hands shook a little as he followed Nesta’s command, and he folded his black briefs before putting them on top of the rest of his clothes. He was so turned on he hoped she wouldn’t keep him standing there much longer; his cock was leaking so much he might make a puddle on her nice floors, and who knew what she’d do to him then.

He kind of wanted to find out, but given the way her eyes were glued to his cock, he didn’t think he’d get a chance to, and he was one hundred percent okay with that.

“Come on,” Nesta eventually said. Her eyes flicked back up to his before she patted the space to her right a few times. “Come sit.”

Cassian took the few steps between him and Nesta and sat down on the bed next to her, trying not to hunch in on himself the way he wanted to. She was still fully clothed, so he tried to focus on that and how hot he thought it was instead of his slowly returning nerves.

Nesta eyed him up for a second before moving to grab the empty wooden board and put it on the ground. Once the bed was clear, she turned back to him and said, “Lay down for me.”

“Do you think I’m gonna fit?” Cassian asked, looking down at his long legs and back up at Nesta.

“Did I ask you if you would fit, or did I tell you to lay down?” she fired back without missing a beat. 

“Yep,” he squeaked out, already shifting so he could lie down. He’d come way too far to risk anything that would make her not want to touch his dick, so he mentally shook himself and grabbed a pillow so he could make himself more comfortable.

“Was that so hard?” she questioned once he was flat on his back. His legs were just the tiniest bit too short for the bed, so they just awkwardly hung off the edge.

“N–oh,” he replied, his voice shooting up an octave as she swung a leg over his middle and straddled him with no warning.

“What’s the matter?” she asked innocently once she was settled on his lap. She was sitting right on top of his cock, and he hissed when she reached down so she could pull it out from under her. “Don’t tell me I’m too heavy for you.”

“No, I basically bench you as a warm—fuck,” he swore right in the middle of his answer, losing his entire train of thought when she tightened her grip on him. He had to summon all of his strength not to buck his hips and risk sending her flying, and judging by the little smirk on her face, she knew that perfectly well.

“A ‘warm fuck,’” she repeated, laughing softly. He would’ve laughed with her if it weren’t for the way she still had her perfectly manicured fingers wrapped around his cock. “That must be a new kind of exercise. Speaking of exercise… you don’t mind if I take you for a whirl, do you?”

“I think you can do whatever you want,” Cassian answered, a little dazed from the way she was perfectly handling his dick. 

“Gold star for you,” Nesta told him. Her grip on his cock tightened until it was just on the edge of being painful, and he couldn’t help but groan when she finally started to move, even though her pace was torturously slow.

“Is that the only thing I get?” he asked, panting just a little. 

“Do you think you deserve more than that?” she retorted. 

He nearly swallowed his tongue when she let go of his cock long enough to lick her palm and bring her hand back down. “Fuck. Uh. No?”

“You don’t sound too sure of yourself,” she replied, clearly fucking with him. She picked up the pace just a little bit and he couldn’t stop himself from groaning. “Try that again.”

“Uh…” he trailed off. It was hard to think between her staring down at him like that and his cock in her hand, but he had to say something. “Whatever you think I — ah, God — deserve.”

“There you go,” Nesta said, really starting to pick up the pace now. He was leaking like a faucet, and between that and Nesta’s spit, everything was starting to feel a little too good. 

“Please,” Cassian moaned. He didn’t even know what he was begging for, but in his mind, there was nothing else to do but beg. 

“Please what?” she asked, clearly delighting in his suffering. 

“Please let me come,” he answered in a rush of words. He was torn between squeezing his eyes shut to try and hold off longer or watching her, but in the end it was impossible to really look away. She just looked way too good on top of him. 

“You know,” Nesta began, drawing it out. Cassian was holding on for dear life now, his nails digging into the mattress so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he tore through the fabric as he tried to hold off. “I technically never said you couldn’t, but… I guess you’ve earned it.”

“Really?” Cassian panted, questioning her like a dumbass. He really needed to stop doing that.

“You’re such a fucking masochist,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. She was really pumping him now, and every time she jerked her wrist upward she managed to perfectly hit a spot just under the head of his cock that was damn near making him go cross eyed from how good it felt. “Hurry up and come before I change my mind.”

“Fuck, fuck, Nesta,” he groaned, his hips bucking into her hand one last time as he finally let go. His vision went a little fuzzy around the edges as he finally came, a choked gasp escaping him as the pleasure hit him. It was overwhelmingly good, so strong that his toes curled, and Nesta wrung every last drop out of him until he turned into a whimpering mess from the overstimulation. 

Nesta thankfully took pity on him and eventually brought her hand to a stop, grabbing a towel from somewhere — under the pillow, maybe — to wipe her hand and his stomach off. “Take some deep breaths, baby. Just like that. There’s a good boy.”

Cassian took in one deep breath and then another, his heart rate eventually slowing to something approaching normal the longer he laid there. If he’d felt a little dazed the last time he saw Nesta, it was nothing compared to how he felt now; he couldn’t conjure up a single thought besides how good it felt to be touched like this, his mind buzzing pleasantly as he just focused on breathing and the feel of Nesta’s hands on him. 

“I’m going to get a washcloth and some water, okay?” she told him after a few minutes, her voice low and soothing. She shifted slowly until she was off of him entirely, and he missed her comforting weight immediately. “I’ll be back in a second. Keep breathing for me.”

Cassian barely even registered Nesta walking away, and by the time he properly realized he was laying on the bed by himself, she was already back. The washcloth was warm and her touch was gentle as she wiped him clean, and she made him sit up for a few moments so he could drink from the glass of water she’d gotten for him. “You good?”

“So good,” he answered, still a little dazed from the enormity of what had just happened. 

“Okay,” she replied with a tiny, private smile. She put the empty glass on one of the emptier shelves of the bookcase and tossed the washcloth into a tiny hamper in the corner of the room that he hadn’t noticed upon first glance. “Lay back down. I’m not done with you yet.”

Cassian did as she asked, pleasantly surprised when Nesta maneuvered them onto a cleaner, drier area of the bed and laid down with him. She gently pushed and prodded at him until he was half on top of her, his face perfectly pressed into the side of her neck, and when she started to run her fingers over his curls, he couldn’t have held his eyes open even if he’d wanted to. He made a happy little sound as her other hand drifted down to wrap around his back, her palm just cool enough to feel good against his overheated skin, and shifted his arms so they were properly cuddling. 

“You did so good for me,” Nesta murmured into his hair after a few minutes of laying there in soft silence, her voice warm. 

“Yeah?” Cassian mumbled back. He felt like he was simultaneously flying high and ready to sleep for ten hours. “I did?”

“Mhmmm,” she told him, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. His skin tingled where she’d put her lips and he had to fight to hold back the full-body shiver that threatened to overtake him. “You were such a good boy. Very… eager.”

“If you say so,” he managed after a second. Trying to think straight right now was like trying to hold onto water, so he just gave up on it. Nesta could do plenty of thinking for both of them.  

“Lucky for you,” she replied, “I do say so.”

He laughed softly. “Think that makes me the luckiest guy around.”

“No arguments there from me,” Nesta said softly. “Now shhhh. Just relax for a little bit.”

“Okay,” Cassian said back, and then fell silent. Nesta kept running her fingers all over him, and if he was a cat, he knew he’d one hundred percent be purring right now. He was so comfortable laying here in her arms that he wished he could stay here forever, wrapped in her warmth and her reassurance that he was good, but he knew it would eventually have to end.

For now, though, Cassian could at least enjoy it while he had it. He snuggled further into her embrace and left his eyes shut, more than happy to let Nesta block out the world for as long as he could stand to let her. 

Eventually Cassian felt less like he was floating through reality and more like he was standing on solid ground, so he turned his face to try and look at Nesta properly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Nesta replied casually, like she hadn’t just turned his world upside down, dick first. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered after a moment. He still felt amazing, but things had faded down to a pleasurable buzz and he could actually string more than a few words together. “I’m feeling pretty good, actually.”

“Glad to hear it,” she replied. This close, her eyes looked incredibly blue, and he had to force himself to stay focused despite how pretty they were. “Me too.”

“But you didn’t…?” he asked, trailing off as he realized she hadn’t finished. At least, not that he’d noticed, and he tended to notice those kinds of things when he wasn’t experiencing one of the best orgasms of his life. 

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time,” she told him. Her pleasant expression turned decidedly more wicked as she added, “Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance.”

Cassian’s brain couldn’t keep up with all the possibilities suddenly unfolding before him. “Yeah?”

“Down, boy,” Nesta replied with a fond roll of her eyes. Cassian just grinned up at her, far too excited about the prospect of making her come to be embarrassed. “We’ll talk about it.”

“Okay,” he responded, still smiling. He probably looked a little insane, but if he could give her even a drop of what she’d given him tonight, he was allowed to be a little insane about it. “I’ll be patient.”

“Of course you will,” she told him. She patted his head like he was her pet, and hey, that was… a thought. “For now, let’s get you dressed.”

Cassian recognized the beginnings of a dismissal when he heard one, and even though he knew all good things had to come to an end, that didn’t stop him from holding back a pout as he slowly rolled off Nesta and collected his bearings. His clothes were easy enough to find and put back on, and he’d left his keys, phone, and wallet inside his coat pocket. 

He hated how easy it was to leave, but that was part of the game, too. 

“Let me know when you get home,” Nesta said once they’d left her apartment and started walking to the elevator. She’d put her slippers back on and he thought it was the most adorable thing in the world to watch her pad down the hallway in them, but he valued his dick way too much to say that kind of thing out loud. 

“I know the drill,” Cassian eventually said back. If he was dragging his feet just a little bit to extend his time in her presence, that was between him and the hallway carpet. “I guess I’ll see you in two weeks?”

“You will,” she confirmed. They reached the end of the hallway despite his best efforts, and she reached out to press the elevator button when they were close enough. “I’ll call you on Wednesday, too.”

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling. He just couldn’t help it as far as she was concerned.

“Yes, Cassian,” she answered. The sound of his name on her mouth was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard, and judging by the knowing look on her face, she knew it. “You can just assume we have a standing phone call on Wednesdays.”

“Does it come with an itinerary?” he joked, pleased as hell to pull a soft chuckle out of her. She had such a pretty laugh that he wanted to hear it all the time. 

He wanted to do a lot of things with her all the time. It was starting to become a serious problem. 

“You can pick the icebreaker,” she told him dryly. 

“Nah, that’s all you,” he responded, laughing quietly. It felt good to go back and forth with her, but he knew his place here. “You’re the boss.”

The look she gave him right as the elevator doors opened damn near made his toes curl, and his lips parted in slight surprise as she reached up to tug a loose curl back into place. “Smart man. Have a good night.”

Cassian’s scalp tingled pleasantly his entire ride home. 

tag list: @c-e-d-dreamer | @jsmelodies | @queercontrarian | @nativeswfl | @that-little-red-head | @dustjacketmusings | @fieldofdaisiies | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @kale-theteaqueen | @goddess-aelin | @livinforthetea | @valkyrie-archeron | @agents-assemble | @sweet-pea1 | @lilah-asteria | @brieq | @mydnights | @jmoonjones | @readskk | @fwiggle | @bookstantrash | @climbthemountain2020 | @underneath-the-sidras | @illyrianshadowhunter | @sublimecoffeefestival | @superspiritfestival | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @burningsnowleopard | @bri-loves-sunflowers | @itsinherited

[nerdsnuff]

hello!! not sure if you're taking requests but if you are could we possibly get mark boyfriend headcanons?

🐊 MARK BERSKII BOYFRIEND HC’S

MY FIRST REQUEST OHMY GOD GUYYYSSSSS YHANK YOU SO MUCH OFC ILL TAKE IT HERE U GO I HOPE I DID HIM JUSTICE I LOVE MARK MY INDONESIAN KING anyway diana/mark friendship mentionedddd :P sorry took long </3

cw for descriptions of smoking.

𓆊 before dating and before getting close, you bet he was shy as as fuck. probably ran away from you a lot (not too literally, but would shy away from long conversations) and always be visibly red with how pale he is

𓆊 during the confession, he was so nervous that you got nervous too. he was a stuttering mess

“i uh—okay…” he mumbles something you can’t hear. you attempt to listen closely as he mumbles something. “look… i like you alright… it’s fine if you don’t like me back i just thought it’d be a good time to tell you…”

𓆊 anyway, with a lot of convincing you two date. THUMBS UP. HOORAY. he was super shy in the beginning it took awhile for him to comfortably do a lot. but he always tried to be affectionate. imagine shy hand holding! where he starts off by slowly intertwining your fingers before fully wrapping around yours.

𓆊 if you smoke, oh you KNOW he’d do it with you. he’ll share his cigarettes with you (only a few though) and do that romantic thing where he lights your cig with his.

he leans leans closer to you, cigarettes being the only thing keeping your faces apart. without a word he puts his cigarette against yours. you inhale, the sound of burning paper crackling very lowly between the two of you. once lit, he pulls away, swiping the cigarette off his mouth as he blows out smoke. the exchange was silent, and you simply admire your boyfriend with a slight blush on your cheeks, noticing how nice he looks. though you got so distracted that you almost forget to exhale too.

𓆊 if you don’t smoke that’s fine, but he’ll still smoke in front of you so you’ll smell like cigs after every hangout with him lol! just so you know, he would NOT smoke around you if you’re uncomfortable or can’t handle it. he may have an addiction but he is respectful!!!! either way yes you should bring perfume btw especially if you live with people who wouldn’t be cool with the smell of smoke.

you grimace as he blows smoke onto your face, giggling afterwards despite your sour face. “hahah, sorry. you bought perfume right?” you let him know you did, and he smiles. “okay, good”

𓆊 he loves sharing things… he’ll share his beanie, he’ll share his jackets, he’ll share his cigs and lighters, he’ll share his ear/headphones. you could say it’s a love language.

“don’t listen to diana. i don’t have lice, she’s lying!” you couldn’t help but laugh as he grumbles and protests, trying to get you to wear his beloved gator beanie. of course you don’t believe her, it’s just fun to mess with him. you then mention his oily hair, backing up your excuse as to why you still don’t wanna wear it. he rolls his eyes. “come on, if you have such a problem with it then maybe you should just… wash it for me or something” he suggests bashfully.

𓆊 won’t ask, but he needs reassurance once awhile. you’ll notice him looking down sometimes, drooped eyes more droopier and sadder than usual; that’s when you know you’ll need to say some sweet words to him. it helps, even if he doesn’t show it. it’s nice to know you’re there for him when he needs a shoulder.

𓆊 he has the sweetest cat, who loves you too. you always come home from his house littered in white cat fur even if you dust yourself off before leaving, haha. it’s suggested to not wear black when coming over.

𓆊 sometimes (a lot of times) gets jealous of his cat LOLLLL but only when you give her more attention than him

mark breaks the silence between the two of you with a grumble, snapping your attention away from his cat. politely, he pulls his cat away from your grasp and set her on the floor. once she walks away mark turns back to face you with full attention, the same amount you’re now giving him instead of his furry companion. he doesn’t spare a moment to speak before burying his face in the crook of your neck. his hot breath tickles you as he mumbles, “you’ve been paying more attention to my cat than me. so now that she moved it’s my turn. unless you only came over to see her…”

𓆊 absolutely yes to cat cafe dates. DUH! he likes how peaceful they are, and he’s surrounded by some of the things he loves most, you and cats.

𓆊 after dating long enough, he gifted you a gag gift of those rollers used to remove animal fur from your clothes. you always bring it when you come over and you never forget cause he’s always there to remind you to bring it.

𓆊 has tried to make some beats for you once and you loved it obviously. he tried to match it to your music taste so you’d like it more.

𓆊 you guys would absolutely share songs and he’ll absolutely judge you (LIGHTHEARTEDLY AND JOKINGLY) if he thinks something you shared is bad.

[arwensarboretum]

I think another thing to consider with regards to grief, especially in the case of Alan and Gordon is the loss of their mother. Obviously Jeff's death took a big toll on everyone and it results in some really unhealthy coping as the boys persist in eternal optimism that maybe they'll find him one day, which is contrasted with the harsh and completely certain death of their mother. There is no "maybe" there. No matter what iteration of Thunderbirds we're viewing, Lucille Tracy is gone. Alan and Gordon would have complicated relationships with that as they were undoubtably young when it happened - Alan noted he was even starting to forget Jeff so there is definitely memory gaps in regards to Lucille there, but it means that the boys have two very different takes on death - one where it is final and over and nothing can be done, and the other where there's still some hope. And I think that contrast propels them into the infinite optimism, not only BECAUSE Jeff started IR as a result of Lucille's death and literally taught the boys how to have radical hope in the face of death and that they should never stop fighting for life until it's too late because they know concretely what too late looks like, but also because it's a way of keeping Jeff alive, and honouring his beliefs, carrying forward his legacy. I think Jeff, in many ways, seeded the radical hope in them - that there's always something they can keep trying to do until it's too late, and unless they see a body, it's hard to accept that it is too late. I think the persistent blind hope isn't a coping mechanism formed out of just grief, I think it's also there because Jeff taught them that response.

This kinda got off track, so circling back to Lucille: the boys also know how to grieve someone who's gone permanently. Scott, John and Virgil are all (at least headcanoned as being) old enough to remember Lucille and have her be an important impact in their lives and losing her did teach them more about proper and healthy grief in regards to how they coped with her death. No one was trying to bring her back and nothing would have. And I think that reality stays with the boys and sits with them too and to some degree there is healthy grieving that happens and the younger boys aren't only learning unhealthy coping mechanisms from their older siblings.

Of course, this is mostly head canon as the show really doesn't delve in Lucille basically at all (TOS literally doesn't mention her and in the movie we have a conversation and a picture), but the implication of her presence and loss is always there and I think if the shows had decided to delve into Lucille more we could have gotten a more balanced or healthier view of grief and coping with the loss of a loved one. Admittedly, the creators never focused on it, but I think it's there.

P.S. Grandma and Kyrano (mentioned but never shown) also display more healthy expressions of grief. Grandma is clearly sad whenever she talks about Jeff but she's also so proud of him. She loves telling stories about him and telling the boys how much like their dad they are and how he'd be proud of them. She remembers him well and uses him as a way to support the boys, but she never desperately clings to his memory or tries to bring him back. She doesn't discourage the search for Jeff but she doesn't go out of her way to push it forward either, except when they have reasonable proof that he at least could be alive. Lee Taylor has a similar take. They miss Jeff and they love Jeff but they can accept his absence.

Grandma even enjoys telling stories about the boys' mother in Home on the Range. She has a level head about grief and is modelling healthy coping to the boys.

Kyrano isn't seen at all and we know he's absent from the Island and has been since Jeff's disappearance, so we can't know how well he's doing or not, but we know that he left. Sometimes, in the face of grief, change is helpful. While we don't know the nature of the change, it's at least demonstrating to the boys that sometimes when things go wrong, you need to do something different to help you grow in new ways to gain perspective, and while I can't make this claim with certainty because of the lack of information, I think the lessons at least COULD be there. And I think that's worthwhile too.

Now that I think about it...

In TAG the fact all of the Tracy family still believed that Jeff could be alive is really unhealthy. Like if we are being realistic, they watched their dad get blown up. They searched for ages, and they did everything they could for years. But getting to the 8 year mark and still not having closure, must have wrecked them. I know it sounds bad, but it would have been far more rational if they just grieved his death like it was a real death and gave up looking for what only could have been a body. I know it's not necessarily a choice to just let someone go, but the fact the Tracy Brothers (specifically Scott and Virgil) were saying they were going to find him, is just wow. Obviously, it's great they didn't give up because well, you know. But still...I think about that a lot.

[cherryhazee]

Lines That Blur | Luke Hughes

Warnings: Mature language and sexual references or implications.

wc: 3.1k

Part 7 of The Art of Loving series

Avery hadn’t thought this through. Kissing Luke had been one of the best moments of her life, she could still feel the warmth of his hand resting lightly on her back, the way he’d looked at her like the rest of the world had disappeared. It had felt perfect in the moment, but now? Now, it felt like she’d taken a step too far.

The bathroom mirror reflected her restless expression as she brushed her teeth. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun, a few strands had fallen free framing her face. She stared at her reflection trying to figure out how to act normal when she saw him again. Luke hadn’t talked about it yet, and she didn’t have the nerve to bring it up. Maybe he wanted to forget it happened. Maybe it was just a New Year’s kiss for him.

She set the toothbrush down with a sigh, gripping the edge of the sink. Her thoughts swirled like a storm, one crashing into the next. It wasn’t like Luke to avoid things, he was steady, straightforward, and always tackled things directly. But since the party, he’d been... distant. Or was she imagining that?

Her phone buzzed on the counter, snapping her out of her spiral. Avery glanced at the screen and froze. Luke.

You free later? Thinking coffee or something.

Her heart thudded against her ribs. Coffee or something. Casual. Totally normal. Like nothing had happened. She chewed her lip, staring at the message until the words blurred together. Did he just want to hang out? Did he want to talk about the kiss? She typed out three different replies before finally settling on, Sure, what time?

His reply came quickly. Maybe 6? Same place as last time?

Avery’s mind flashed to the cozy coffee shop near her building, where they’d started meeting after she moved to the city. It had become their unofficial spot, a midpoint between the gallery in Manhattan and his rink in New Jersey. Back then, their conversations had been easy, free of the tension that now hung between them. Back before they kissed.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Sounds good. She hit send before she could overthink it once again.

By the time she arrived at the café, Avery’s nerves were even stronger. The place was comfortably crowded, the hum of conversations and the clinking of mugs filling the space. She spotted Luke in a table at the corner, his long frame sprawled in the chair, a baseball cap pulled low over his curly hair. His hoodie looked soft and familiar, one she was pretty sure she’d borrowed once or twice.

He looked up as she approached, a flicker of something, nerves? Relief? crossing his face before it smoothed into his usual easy lopsided grin.

“Hey,” he said, as she slid into the chair across from him. He nudged a coffee mug across the table toward her. “Got this for you. Figured you could use it.”

“Thanks,” she said, surprised, wrapping her fingers around the warm mug. She didn’t check what it was until she took a sip and paused. Her exact order down to the last detail.

Her stomach fluttered. “You remembered,” she said, glancing up at him.

Luke shrugged, a faint hint of color rising to his cheeks. “It’s not that hard. You always order the same thing.”

“Of course.” She tried to sound breezy like her stomach wasn’t in knots. “What’s up?”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just... I wanted to check in. We haven’t seen each other since the party.”

Avery’s pulse quickened. So he’d noticed. “Oh,” she said lightly, reaching for her coffee as if it could shield her. “I guess I’ve just been busy.”

Luke gave her a look. The kind of look that said he wasn’t buying it. “Busy, huh?”

She shrugged, taking a sip to avoid meeting his eyes. “Yeah. You know how it is. Also, I’ve been in talks with the gallery owner.”

Luke raised his brows in surprise. “Really? About what?”

Avery exhaled, setting her coffee down. “A promotion.”

Luke’s brows lifted slightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Avery let out a small breath, her words finally catching up with the weight of reality. “I mean, it’s not official or anything, but she’s been hinting at it for a while now. More responsibility, curating my own exhibits, getting to work with bigger artists.” She shrugged, but she couldn’t quite keep the flicker of excitement out of her voice. “It’s a big deal.”

Luke’s expression shifted, something warm and unreadable settling behind his eyes. “That’s huge, Avery.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “It could be huge,” she corrected. “But it’s still up in the air.”

He didn’t push, just took another sip of his coffee, the warmth between them settling into something quieter. Avery exhaled, running a hand over her face.

“You know,” Luke said, breaking the silence, “if you take it, I’ll have to start calling you ‘curator Avery.’”

She huffed out a laugh. “Please don’t.”

“Or, better idea, I could just start introducing you that way to people. ‘This is Avery, she’s kind of a big deal at the gallery.’”

“Oh my God.” She shot him a look. “That’s actually the worst thing you could do.”

Luke grinned, unbothered. “I don’t know. Feels like I should be celebrating your almost-promotion.”

She rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest didn’t fade. “Let’s hold off on the celebration until it’s real, okay?”

“Fine.” He lifted his mug in mock surrender. “But when it happens, we’re celebrating.”

–

Avery shoved her hands deep into her pockets as they walked toward her apartment, the crisp winter air biting at her cheeks. The streets were quieter now, the bustle of the café fading into the distance, leaving only the muffled sound of their footsteps on the pavement. Luke walked beside her, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his broad shoulders slightly hunched against the cold.

She stole a glance at him, the sharp line of his jaw illuminated briefly by the glow of the afternoon sun. It wasn’t fair how effortlessly he looked put together even in a hoodie and a baseball cap. And it definitely wasn’t fair how her chest tightened every time his arm brushed against hers.

“Cold?” he asked, catching her glance.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, though the shiver that followed gave her away.

Without a word, Luke stopped, shrugging off his hoodie. As he pulled it over his head, the hem of his shirt lifted slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin just above his waistband. Avery’s eyes flicked to his stomach before she could stop herself, heat rising to her cheeks. Luke caught her gaze, his brows lifting slightly in realization. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but he didn’t say a word.

“Here,” he said, putting it over her body before she could protest. It was warm, the fabric carrying the faint scent of his cologne, clean, woodsy, and familiar.

“Thanks,” Avery murmured, clutching the hoodie around her shoulders. She wasn’t about to admit how much she liked the warmth, or the scent, but the slight upward curve of Luke’s lips suggested he already knew.

They walked in silence for a few moments, the quiet between them more comfortable than she’d expected. The chill nipped at her nose, but the hoodie shielded her from the worst of it, and somehow, she felt more aware of Luke than of the cold.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said eventually, her voice softer now.

Luke glanced at her, his expression unreadable. “Didn’t seem like you were gonna ask.”

Avery let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “What, and let you hold it over me forever? Please.”

“You think I’m that petty?” His tone was playful, but the way his lips twitched betrayed his amusement.

“I know you are,” she teased, nudging his arm lightly with her elbow.

He grinned, a boyish expression that made her stomach do that annoying flip again. “Fair point.”

They reached her building before she realized it, the familiar exterior coming into view as they rounded the corner. Avery slowed her pace, pulling the hoodie tighter around her as they approached the steps leading to the front door.

“This is me,” she said, pausing to dig her keys out of her bag. Her fingers fumbled in the cold, and Luke stepped closer, his body radiating warmth. She finally managed to pull the keys free, but she hesitated, glancing up at him.

“You want to come up?” The words left her mouth before she could think better of them.

Luke blinked, caught off guard, but he recovered quickly. “Yeah, sure. If you don’t mind.”

Avery shrugged, playing it cool despite the sudden rush of nerves. “I mean, you did loan me your hoodie. Feels like I owe you at least an invitation or something.”

“Or something,” he echoed, a trace of a smile on his lips.

“After you,” she motioned for him to enter her place.

Luke stepped inside, taking in the space as Avery locked the door behind them. It wasn’t his first time here, but it still felt like stepping into a world that was distinctly her.

“Make yourself at home,” Avery said, toeing off her shoes and tossing her keys onto the counter.

Luke did, sinking onto the couch and stretching an arm over the back of it. She pulled off his hoodie, debating whether to return it but ultimately tossing it over a chair instead. “Want something to drink?”

“I’m good,” he said, watching as she grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV.

Avery scrolled through the options, glancing at him. “You up for a movie?”

Luke smirked. “Depends. Are we talking something decent or another one of your rom-coms where everyone meets in an adorably unrealistic way and magically falls in love in ninety minutes?”

She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense. “Excuse you, rom-coms are a cinematic treasure.”

Luke huffed a laugh. “A treasure,” he repeated, unimpressed.

“Yep.” She clicked through the options. “You just don’t appreciate the genre.”

“I appreciate movies that don’t have the same five plot lines recycled over and over.”

Avery shot him a look. “First of all, that’s completely false. There are at least seven plot lines.”

Luke shook his head, fighting a smile. “Of course.”

“And second, what’s wrong with a little romance? Some of us enjoy seeing people end up happy instead of, I don’t know, brooding in a storm or dying tragically.”

Luke sighed dramatically. “Fine. Pick your treasure of the night.”

Avery grinned in triumph and selected one of her favorites. How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. As the opening credits rolled, she curled up on her side of the couch, sneaking a glance at Luke. He had that reluctant, I’m-too-cool-for-this expression, but she knew him well enough to catch the way his jaw twitched like he was already invested.

She smirked. “You’re gonna love this one.”

Luke groaned. “Doubt it.”

But when he didn’t protest any further she just smiled to herself and focused her attention to the TV.

They watched in easy silence, the glow from the screen casting soft light over the room. At some point, Avery stretched out her legs, resting them across his lap without thinking. He didn’t pull away. Didn’t move at all, actually.

She stole a glance at him, taking in the sharp angles of his face, the way his lashes cast faint shadows against his cheekbones, the slow, steady rise and fall of his breathing, the warmth radiating off him.

Avery exhaled slowly, forcing herself to focus on the screen, but the movie might as well have been background noise now. Every nerve in her body was attuned to Luke, how close he was, how easily she could reach out and touch him if she wanted to.

And then, without fully realizing what she was doing, she shifted. Just slightly.

Luke’s gaze flicked to her, as if he’d been waiting for her to move. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to.

Avery swallowed, pulse thrumming in her throat.

The space between them felt smaller now.

Tentative.

Waiting.

A beat passed, then another, before he finally spoke, voice lower than before. “You’re not even watching, are you?”

Avery’s lips parted, but no excuse came to mind. He wasn’t wrong.

Instead of answering, she tilted her head toward him, arching a brow. “And you are?”

Luke’s mouth curved, just barely. “Maybe.”

Avery hummed, not believing him for a second. The tension stretched between them, thick and unspoken, the kind that made her chest feel too tight, like she was on the edge of something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

Then Luke moved slow, deliberate. He reached up, brushing his fingers lightly against her temple, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

Avery barely breathed.

His hand lingered for half a second longer than necessary before he let it drop.

Her skin burned where he’d touched her.

“Your hair was in your face,” he murmured.

Avery swallowed, heart hammering in her throat. “Right.”

Before either of them could speak, Avery’s phone buzzed on the coffee table, the sudden vibration slicing through the quiet.

She startled, exhaling a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, before glancing at the screen. Her boss’s name flashed across it.

Luke’s gaze flicked to her. “Might wanna get that.”

Avery hesitated, pulse still erratic from whatever that just was, but she reached for her phone and swiped to answer. “Hello?”

“Avery! I hope I’m not interrupting your evening,” her boss said, voice bright and warm. “I just wanted to give you a call personally to say congratulations. The promotion is yours!”

Avery sat up straighter. “Wait- seriously?”

Luke perked up at that, brow lifting in question.

“Seriously,” her boss confirmed. “We’ll go over everything officially tomorrow, but I wanted you to know tonight. You earned this.”

Avery barely heard the rest of the conversation, barely managed to say thank you and confirm she’d be in tomorrow before hanging up. When she turned to Luke, her heart was still hammering, but now for an entirely different reason.

“I got it,” she said, almost breathless, barely believing it herself. “The promotion.”

Luke grinned, full and genuine, his entire face lighting up. “Hell yeah, you did.”

And before she could process it, he was pulling her into a hug—solid, warm, completely engulfing. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck, her heart still racing, but this time it wasn’t just from nerves.

His hands settled against her back, firm and steady, like he belonged there. Like this belonged.

When they pulled back, neither of them let go.

Avery’s breath caught. Luke’s hands still rested on her waist, his thumbs brushing lightly against the fabric of her shirt.

His gaze dropped to her lips.

Avery didn’t think. Didn’t overanalyze.

She just moved. So did he.

The moment their lips met, it was warm and certain, a quiet unraveling of everything they’d been holding back since New Years.

Luke exhaled against her mouth, deepening the kiss like he’d been waiting for this, like he wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon.

And Avery?

She wasn’t planning on stopping either.

Avery found herself in his lap, her knees pressing into the couch on either side of him. They barely registered the shift as they moved, lost in the heat of it.

Luke’s hands settled on her hips, firm but hesitant, like he was waiting for her to set the pace.

Avery’s heart pounded as she looked at him, really looked at him. His flushed cheeks, the way his lips parted slightly like he was still catching up to what was happening.

She could end this right now. Pull back, laugh it off, pretend like this was just some adrenaline-fueled moment.

But she didn’t want to.

Not when his fingers flexed against her waist. Not when his chest rose and fell beneath her, each breath syncing with hers.

Not when he was looking at her like that.

She reached up, threading her fingers into his hair, and his grip on her tightened just slightly in response.

“Still with me?” she murmured.

Luke exhaled a short laugh, his hands sliding up her back, warm and steady. “Not going anywhere.”

Something about the certainty in his voice made Avery’s stomach flip.

So she kissed him again.

This time, there was no hesitation. No second-guessing.

Luke responded instantly, his hands skimming up her spine, pulling her closer, as if he’d been holding himself back and finally let go.

He murmured a soft fuck as he lifted her shirt. His breath stilled, like the world had pressed pause, the air had thinned around him, leaving only her. His gaze traced her slowly, committing her to memory, afraid to blink and miss the way she unfolded before him, breathtaking.

Goosebumps trailed all over her body as he lowered his mouth and began kissing every inch of her soft skin, gentle hums of approval coming out of her mouth.

Their breathing was unsteady as they finally broke apart, foreheads resting against each other, the warmth between them lingering. Avery let out a breathless laugh, still reeling, still trying to process the shift between them.

Luke didn’t go far.

Instead, he pressed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth, then another to her cheek, then one just below her jaw.

Avery giggled, her hands still tangled in his hair. “What are you doing?”

“Being proud of you,” he murmured, dropping another kiss to her temple, then her nose, each one soft and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. “You worked your ass off for this, and now it’s yours.”

Avery felt warmth spread through her chest, a different kind than before.

Luke pulled back just enough to look at her, his expression full of something quiet and sure. “Can’t wait for the party. We’re gonna celebrate you properly.”

Avery arched a brow. “Properly?”

“Yeah.” His lips quirked. “You know, drinks, dancing, embarrassing speeches about how amazing you are…”

Avery groaned, dropping her head onto his shoulder. “No speeches.”

Luke just laughed, his arms tightening around her. “No promises.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her lips. Because beneath all the teasing, there was something real in his voice, something steady and certain.

Avery melted into him, the world outside this couch, this moment, fading into nothing.

For once, she didn’t think about what came next.

She just let herself feel.