#nah I’ll get over this. but it feels directed at me when it’s on my post ya know. and I haven’t been in a place recently to read this stuff

[bjlipss]

synopsis: satoru finds out you have a huge crush on suguru and is delightful because duh, it’s embarrassing! but whilst he teases you about it relentlessly, he doesn’t expect to develop a crush of his own.

miyan’s notes: yearning satoru? hell yea

it starts as a joke.

gojo notices immediately. how could he not? you’re not exactly subtle about it either— you light up the second suguru enters the room, like the world has finally started spinning properly again. it’s embarrassingly obvious, the way your eyes search for him first, the way your voice softens when you speak to him, the way you always, always find an excuse to be near suguru. he thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world, watching you get all flustered whenever suguru so much as looks in your direction.

and it’s cute, really. painfully obvious, but cute.

so, naturally, gojo teases you. mercilessly.

“aww, look at you, trying so hard for my best friend! so cute. tragic, but cute.”

your reaction never disappoints—flushed cheeks, flustered stammering, a scowl that doesn’t quite reach your eyes because no matter how annoying gojo is, you’d never actually fight him. well, you would if you thought you stood a chance, but you don’t, so all you can do is glare and hope he gets hit by a stray curse.

“shut up, gojo!”

but, of course, he doesn’t. he never does. if you try to sit next to suguru at lunch, gojo somehow beats you to it, throwing an arm around him like he’s marking his territory, all smug grins and winks as he says, “better luck next time.” if you bring suguru snacks, gojo snatches one before suguru can even react, popping it into his mouth and humming dramatically. “mmm, delicious. wow, you’re so thoughtful! i’m touched.”

if you’re staring at suguru a little too dreamily, gojo suddenly waves a hand in front of your face. “hellooo? earth to lovesick dummy? you’re drooling.”

you think he’s the most annoying person alive.

but what you don’t notice—what gojo himself doesn’t even realize at first—is that at some point, it stops being a joke.

it sneaks up on him, this stupid crush.

at first, he’s just having fun messing with you. watching you turn red and stammer whenever suguru so much as acknowledges your existence is peak entertainment. but then he starts noticing things he shouldn’t.

the smell of your shampoo mixed with a bit of sweet perfume. your habit of rolling your bottom lip between your index finger and thumb when you’re deep in thought. the lip balm that you always use and mindlessly offer to shoko before putting it back into your pocket. how pretty you look without the uniform’s jacket and your hair down.

how you push yourself during training, even when you’re exhausted, even when you’re falling behind. how you always make sure everyone else is okay before you worry about yourself. how your eyes sparkle when you talk about something you love, how your nose scrunches up when you’re frustrated, how you don’t treat him like the strongest, but just another annoying upperclassman.

and suddenly, teasing you doesn’t feel as fun anymore. because he’s the one getting all warm inside.

which is annoying.

so gojo does what gojo does best—he competes.

if you compliment suguru’s hair, gojo immediately smooths a hand over his own, tilting his head toward you with a smirk. “what about me? mine’s fluffier.” if you call suguru cool, gojo immediately pulls off some ridiculous stunt—flipping midair during training, casting an overly flashy cursed technique, or just dramatically sighing and saying, “well, I’m the strongest.” even if the situation doesn’t call for it. it never does.

suguru, long-suffering and tired, just pats your head. “ignore him.” too used to his best friend’s antics to pay attention to the way you stare up at him, starry eyed.

but gojo doesn’t stop. he starts pulling you away from suguru whenever he can, coming up with increasingly ridiculous reasons.

“nah, nah, i’ll train them today, suguru! you go take a nap or something. gotta make sure my favorite junior learns from the best.”

“come sit next to me for lunch, i have important second-year wisdom to share.”

“why would you need suguru when you have me? i’m taller.”

at first, you think he’s just being his usual obnoxious self, but then you start noticing things, although, subconsciously pushing them into the back of your mind in favour of thinking about suguru.

he always steps in when you’re struggling, offering help before you can even ask. he covers for you when yaga scolds you for slacking off. he drags you along on snack runs with him, calling it “first-year bonding time”, but he always pays for your food without a second thought. sometimes, when you train together, he goes easier on you than he should—not enough for you to notice, but enough for him to know.

and sometimes, when you’re too focused on suguru, gojo gets quiet.

when you rush to suguru’s side after a rough mission, eyes full of concern, gojo stands a few steps away, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his usual grin plastered on his face like he doesn’t have a care in the world. but his fingers twitch slightly, and his usual quips die in his throat. when you talk about suguru with that dreamy little look on your face, he just leans back, watching you with unreadable eyes, his head tilting just slightly—like he’s memorizing the way you look when you talk about someone else.

he never tells you.

gojo isn’t used to liking people like this—he’s used to attention, to people naturally gravitating toward him. he’s the strongest, after all. he doesn’t have to try.

but you? you don’t look at him the way you look at suguru.

and as much as he wants to be the one who makes you flustered, the one you look at with admiration, the one you chase after—he can’t bring himself to take that away from suguru. suguru is his best friend and even though he is pretty certain that suguru isn’t interested in you like that, he doesn’t get out of the boundaries of his usual behaviour.

so instead, he just hovers. grins too wide, ruffles your hair a little too often, and calls you “his favorite kohai” like it’s a joke, like it doesn’t mean anything.

and maybe, just maybe, he hopes that one day you’ll stop looking at suguru and look at him instead.

part 2

[verstappenverse]

Five More Minutes

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Max delays the day, wrapped up in you.

764 words / Masterlist

The morning light filters through the thin curtains of your bedroom, casting soft, golden beams across the bed. You shift slightly under the warmth of the covers, feeling the familiar weight of Max’s arm draped across your waist. You blink a few times trying to wake up, but Max’s hold tightens as you attempt to move.

“Where do you think you're going?” His voice is low and rough, clearly still groggy from sleep.

“I have to get up,” you mumble, your voice equally thick with sleep. You try to wriggle free, but Max pulls you even closer his breath warm against the back of your neck.

“Mmm, no you don’t.” His arm snakes around you even tighter pinning you to the bed as he nuzzles his face into your hair.

You let out a small laugh as your body sinks back into the comfort of the bed. “Max, seriously. I need to get up.”

“Not happening,” he replies, his voice filled with a mix of sleepiness and determination. “I’ve already decided you’re staying right here.”

“Decided?” you tease, turning your head slightly to glance at him over your shoulder. His eyes are half-closed, but there’s a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Yep. It’s a race. Me versus your alarm clock.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder, his scruffy morning stubble grazing your skin.

“Pretty sure my alarm already won,” you mutter, trying to sound stern but failing miserably as his warmth melts you back into the mattress.

Max chuckles, the sound deep and lazy and you feel the vibration of his laughter against your back. “Nope. False start. Disqualified. My win.”

You groan, half in frustration, half in amusement. “Max I really have to get up. Work remember?”

He lets out a dramatic sigh, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks. “Who needs work when you can just stay here with me? I mean really, what’s so great about getting up?”

You roll your eyes though he can’t see it. “I don’t know, maybe earning a living?”

Max hums thoughtfully. “Nah. Besides, I’m quite comfortable right now, and I’m pretty sure you are too.” His hand strokes your side, drawing small circles on your bare hip.

You bite your lip to keep from smiling too much. “You’re impossible you know that?”

“I’ve heard that once or twice,” he admits, leaning forward to press another kiss to the back of your neck.

You can’t help but laugh this time, shaking your head as you pretend to push him away, though your efforts are half-hearted at best.

“Just admit it. You don’t actually want to leave.” Max declares confidently.

“I didn’t actually say that,” you point out, though you don’t make another attempt to escape his grip.

Max raises an eyebrow. “Actions speak louder than words you know.”

You huff softly, turning in his arms so you can face him. His hair is a mess sticking out in every direction, and his blue eyes are still heavy with sleep, but there’s a mischievous glint in them that makes your heart flip. “You’re really not letting me go are you?”

He grins, the kind of boyish, cheeky smile that makes your stomach flutter. “Not a chance.”

You sigh dramatically, though the warmth of his body against yours is making it hard to pretend you’re actually bothered by this. “Max, I have to go to work.”

Max shrugs, his grip still firm but gentle as he pulls you even closer.

“You’re such a brat,” you tease, poking him lightly in the chest.

He catches your hand with his, intertwining your fingers. His thumb rubs circles over your knuckles as he watches you with those soft, adoring eyes. “So, can’t we just stay like this for a bit longer? I’ll make it worth your while. Maybe pancakes later?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “You? Making pancakes? Now that I’ve got to see.”

He grins wider. “I'm sure I can figure a pancake out, thank you very much.”

You snort, resting your head against his chest. “Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”

“Maybe,” Max admits, his voice vibrating against you. “But it can be our disaster.”

There’s a long comfortable silence as you let yourself relax in his arms, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful state. The outside world can wait just a little longer you reason.

“Okay” you hum eventually, closing your eyes as you snuggle deeper into him. “Five more minutes.”

Max chuckles softly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Five more minutes,” he agrees.

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 7

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: sexual content, mental abuse, toxic relationship, language Wordcount: 7.7K A/C: SHE'S BAACKKK!!! omg i missed you guys so much you don't even know! I AM BACK and i'm locked in and i finally got this chapter out for you, ty for being so so patient with me, i will have more time to write for everyone now!! ily guys and tysm for 1k followers, i have a little surprise to you to celebrate that soon :)) ILYM <33

italics are flashbacks

-

Before London

“You buckled up?”

“Yes,” I murmur, crossing my legs and looking out the window. It’s one of those days where it’s been grey and gloomy since the morning. The dark clouds billow in along the horizon, causing an unbearable humidity to fall over Dallas. The weather felt heavy, everyone hoping for a gentle May storm to bring some relief. I could feel sweat growing in my neck, the humidity causing my hair to turn unruly, impossible to manage, dark curls twisting every which way except the direction they were supposed to.

The heaviness was impossible to escape, even in Paige’s car - though I’m not exactly sure if it’s the weather or the tension between us having my stomach doing flips.

“Jesus…” The blonde mumbles to herself when a song by The Weeknd starts playing, nimble hands quickly skipping it.

Since our interrupted moment on my couch we hadn’t talked about it, neither of us wanting to be the first to bring it up. We left it at that, just a moment of weakness between us both, Paige avoiding my gaze whenever she could. The blonde, however, had been growing uncharacteristically more frustrated ever since. Whether because of what happened between us or the game tomorrow, I wasn’t sure.

“So… When’s your dad coming?” I ask carefully, knowing she has been irritated all day. Matter of fact Arike and Lou had warned me about it earlier.

“Tonight, I’ll pick him up from the airport,” she mumbles and then groans, hitting the steering wheel like remembering something. “I was gonna clean before but I forgot.”

“Do you need help?”

“Nah.”

“Paige, I really don’t mind,” I insist, watching the hooper driving with practiced ease in her Nike sweats and a black t-shirt. “I kind of owe it to you since you took care of me…”

Paige’s blue eyes flicker from the road to me, back to the road, face turning red at the memory of us on the couch. Just as she’s about to answer, another song by The Weeknd begins to play.

“This fuckin’ playlist,” Paige groans, quickly skipping every song with any type of sexual implications. It was almost funny, really, the way she was behaving. She’s huffing, fumbling with her phone to change songs before throwing the device to me. “Just put on sumn Iz, please, I’m getting pissed off.”

“I can see that,” I chuckle, picking another list which seemingly is more chill. “Nervous about the game huh?”

“I dunno man,” she mumbles, rubbing her face and leaning back against the seat, jaw clenching. Truthfully, I felt just as frustrated, my mind spinning around how the girl felt on top of me. Everything she did felt so effortless, yet had me probably wetter than I had ever been in my life with such ease. The mere memory had been driving me mad, my own hand trying to relieve the ache between my thighs but with no such luck. Honestly the tension was driving me just as frustrated as Paige is. And God this stupid, overbearing heat, the way it had turned my skin sticky, making it hard to breathe. Paige rubs her own chest, as if feeling the exact same.

Even now, watching the blonde, her veiny hands on the wheel, arms glistening with sweat from the humidity, neck bobbing as she swallows heavily, blonde hair down and straight. all of it had that familiar ache grow between my legs again. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone this much.

I lick my lips and move my eyes to the road, beginning to feel flustered. The temptation of toying with the idea of going to bed with the blonde had been growing stronger and stronger, driving me up the wall. Maybe it was time for me to try on someone else. But I felt afraid, it had been years since I slept with anyone else but Jasper. Maybe this could be a good chance to see how it might make me feel? But then again Paige would need to understand that it has to be just sex. Nothing more. No attachment. 

Memories of her filthy words repeat in my head. I swear no one’s ever spoken to me like that before. No one had ever told me such dirty things. It was exhilarating, it had me soaked. 

The drive is quiet, Paige letting out frustrated huffs now and then and chewing on her lower lip.

“Will we still do the pregame interview for socials tomorrow?” I ask.

“Course,” she huffs with annoyance.

“Okay no reason to have an attitude with me now,” I answer, growing a little annoyed or perhaps frustrated too.

She pulls up to our building’s parking lot, exhaling loudly. “You right,” she mumbles and turns to me, face softening exponentially. Paige reaches over, taking both my hands into hers. It’s enough to make my stomach flip. “You right Iz, I’m sorry. Ion wanna be like that with you I just… It’s this damn heat and everything.”

Our eyes lock, and I consider leaning over the center console and kissing her. But I wasn’t brave enough. Not yet, at least.

“It’s okay Paige,” I hum. Slightly hesitantly, the blonde brings my hands up to her mouth and presses a soft kiss to both of them, eyes fluttering shut. I feel the familiar blush build on my cheeks as I watch her, jolts running through my body. No, I’m done being scared. I need her now.

“Can I come over to yours please?” I ask as politely as I can, though the look in my eyes lets Paige know exactly what’s on my mind. I swear I’ve never seen her nod so quickly, barely letting my words sink in. She clumsily climbs out of the car, practically running to my side to open the door and helping me out. The blonde’s steps are hurried, long strides making it hard for me to keep up as we climb to her floor, a slight grin on my face as I watch the eagerness in which she was moving with. 

Paige’s hands scramble with the lock, the key shaking a little in her hand as she finally opens the door, allowing me in first. My stomach starts to twist, and there’s a burn spreading around my upper thighs as I take off my heels, suddenly significantly shorter than the blonde girl following on my tail.

I hear the door close and turn around, chest heaving much like Paige’s is as I watch her blue eyes roaming my body, the black pencil skirt and the body hugging maroon short-sleeved top, her gaze landing on my face, mouth already agape and breaths growing heavy. 

For a moment we just breathe, our eyes locked on each other, taking the moment in. The tension, the pent up frustration, the need we have for each other, until the blonde snaps and pushes me into the wall which feels cold against my warm back. Paige’s hands land on my waste as our lips crash into a messy, sloppy, needy kiss. A type of kiss I had never had before. It leaves me breathless, my arms wrapping around her shoulders, long fingers wrapping into her hair and pulling the girl closer. She moves her lips off mine, beginning to trail to my neck, hands on my waist travelling downwards to my ass, groaning as she feels it under her grip. 

“W-wait,” I gasp breathlessly, legs already beginning to shake. 

“Mhm,” Paige hums against my skin, lips never quitting working on my neck. 

“I- fuck,” I whimper. “I just need you to know that this has to be just sex.”

Without even thinking I feel the blonde nod, lips sucking right below my ear. “Okay, whatever you want Iz.”

I pull her away from my neck by her hair, meeting her eyes. “I’m serious. Just sex.”

Paige’s eyelids are heavy, the normally bright blue of her eyes turning dark with lust as she gazes down at me. “Izara, I mean it. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be okay?”

When those words leave the blonde’s mouth I nearly crumble to the ground. I can’t wait for a second longer, the wetness pooling between my legs enough proof of that.

“Take me to bed,” I tell the younger girl, who picks me up with ease as my legs wrap around her torso. She kisses me hungrily, our tongues meeting in a battle for dominance which the blonde soon wins as she places me down on her bed softly, my skirt now hiked up halfway up my thighs.

For a moment Paige stands above me, eyes roaming my body as she shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re so beautiful,” she mumbles, then climbs on top of me, her right hand hiking my skirt all the way up, revealing my lacy red panties. When Paige notices, she lets out a groan, practically drooling but working hard to pace herself.

“Take this off,” I murmur, yanking on Paige’s t-shirt.

“Yes ma’am,” she replies, pulling it over her head and onto the floor. I watch the way her muscles in her abdomen clench and I can’t help but drag my fingernails along it as she sits up on top of me, straddling me while I lie flat against the soft blanket.

“Fuck,” she moans hoarsely, throwing her head back, her hands inching underneath my top.

“Would you like it off?” I ask, chest heaving.

“Yes. Please.”

I pull the top off, the blonde’s fingertips leaving tingles as they drag over my ribs. Somehow I don’t feel nervous, all my anxious thoughts left the second I felt Paige on me again.

“Goddamn…” The girl sighs, her hand dragging to my matching lace bra and palming my round breast, making me whimper. I pull her down by the chain on her neck, kissing her feverishly, my underwear growing wetter with every passing moment, mind spinning with need. As I let out a whine, Paige gets the hint, her right hand dragging down my body to my bare thigh and squeezing. 

My back arches off the bed, another whine spilling from my lips but quickly silenced by the blonde’s kiss, her fingers trailing up my inner thigh torturously slowly.

“Paige,” I cry out.

“Tell me what you want?” Paige asks, her voice gravelly in a way I haven’t heard before.

“You to touch me,” I whimper, my brows furrowing with need. “Please.”

“So polite ma,” she grins, beginning to kiss my neck, inching downwards my body to my breasts. “I’mma take good care of you baby, don’ worry.”

My legs spread wider in anticipation as her lips trail downwards along my stomach. I can feel my head spinning, unable to accept that this is real and actually happening. That I would finally find relief to the awful ache inside me.

Faint giggles take me out of the moment, snapping me back to reality. I must’ve imagined - no wait, I can definitely hear giggles. “Paige,” I say.

“Mhm,” she hums, kissing along my inner thighs now.

“You hear that?”

“Hear what,” she mumbles against my skin, nuzzling it, her eyes finally opening when I sit up.

“Listen,” I complain, pushing her off by her forehead to make her pay attention.

“I hear nothin, just lie down and re-”

It’s clear. The sound coming from the front door. Paige’s front door, someone fumbling with the key in the keyhole, turning it and-

“What the fuck?” Paige asks, abruptly getting off me and hurrying to the door of her bedroom, peeking into the corridor in her sports bra and sweats. I get up too, pulling my skirt down, wanting to cry with frustration.

-

There they are. By my doorstep. KK, Ice, Azzi, Jana and Ash, holding balloons and banners and other decorations, giggling amongst each other.

“I- wh- KK? Ice? A- how did y’all get in?” I ask, eyes flickering between the girls and Izara in the bedroom, pulling her skirt down and throwing her top on frantically. 

“Why aren’t you at practice?”

“It ended early,” I say, my voice rising uncharacteristically as I attempt to steady my breathing from what almost just happened. How close I was to getting what I had been craving for weeks. I loved these girls but, God could I kill them right now. “How the hell do y’all got a key to my place??”

“Oh it’s your dad’s,” Azzi giggles. “We were gonna surprise you, he’s downstairs.”

Oh so not only my girls but my dad was gonna arrive at the scene. With a girl in my bedroom. I glance at Iz, who’s fixing her hair in the mirror, but she looks completely fucked out. And I bet I do too. I had no idea how to explain myself out of this one.

“Wh-” I start

“Yeah why aren’t you hugging us and shit? You forget all about us?” KK huffs.

I rub my face, letting out a heavy exhale when Izzie walks out of the bedroom into the eyeline of the group of girls. All their eyes widen, and I can’t ignore the shared looks between them. Quick, Paige, say something.

“Uhh, guys this is Iz- I mean, Zari, she uh, was over to uh…” I scratch the back of my neck, KK already covering her mouth trying not to laugh.

“I just needed to borrow…” Izzie’s eyes scan the room. “Paige’s lamp! Mine broke, so. Couldn’t see to read my book.” Her face is bright red, the usual composure with which she presented herself completely gone. I almost groan at the excuse but realise that would just make the situation seem a million times worse.

“Yes! She was! Uh let me get it for you,” I mumble, about to walk into the bedroom to actually grab a lamp for the girl.

“No no! You say hi to your friends, I can do it myself!”

I wanna bury my face into my hands and go back into the bedroom and lock the door and never come out. All the girls are staring with amused faces, hands holding balloons and flyers and little decorations in preparation for my first game tomorrow, clearly suspicious of us two. Just when I think it can’t get worse, my dad - yes my dad - walks in.

“Why are you girls all- Oh hi, don’t you have practice?” He asks, holding a cake.

I rub the bridge of my nose, not sure whether to laugh or cry at this point.

“Got home early,” I sigh, too flustered to even enjoy the fact that my best friends and my dad were here to see me.

“This girl here is borrowing a lamp,” KK mumbles under her breath to my dad, trying to hold in her snickers. What a stupid excuse. I thought Izzie was supposed to be smart. Borrowing a lamp, what kinda excuse was that?

My dad’s eyes land on Izzie, flickering between me and her and the awkwardly large distance between us as if that might help us look less suspicious. Though based on the small grin on my dad’s face, I can tell it’s doing the exact opposite.

“I’m Bob, Paige’s dad,” my dad slides inside through the girls who are eyeing the situation with amused expressions, shaking hands with Iz like I wasn’t just between her legs ready to do something unimaginable.

“Hey, I’m Izara. I’m a friend of your daughter’s.”

“Izara huh?” He turns to me with a sly grin, something I’d inherited. “You haven’t mentioned an Izara?”

“She prefers Zari,” I correct, trying to avoid his eye. “She does media for the Wings.”

For a moment everyone’s quiet, multiple pairs of eyes staring at me, then Zari, then me again. The silence lingers, bordering on uncomfortable when to everyone’s relief KK speaks.

“Bro we don’t even get a hug or nothing?”

-

She’s there, sitting on my couch, in between Ice and Azzi and laughing that sweet giggle of hers. She looks comfortable, already gaining the approval of my friends with ease. We’re sitting in a circle around the coffee table eating pizza, easy conversation flowing between everyone. But all I could pay attention to was the brunette girl, how easily she fit in, how she had already charmed the hell out of my dad. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, the way her eyes sparkle when she laughs at my friends’ stupid jokes, or the coy smile on her perfect lips when my dad asks her a question. I needed her, badly, even more than before if possible. 

“Excuse me, I need some water,” Izara catches my eye and excuses herself to the kitchen. Without a word I get up, following on her trail like a puppy. I know everyone notices us leaving, but I don’t care. I wanted to take every second to be with her, to touch her, to have her to myself.

“Hey,” I mumble, leaning against the doorframe and watching as she looks through my cupboards for glasses.

“Hey,” she hums with a smile. I walk to the girl, pressing my front into her back as I reach for a glass in the cupboard above us.

“Oh, thank you,” Izzie says, her voice shaky as my hand lands on her waist. The girls’ voices are loud but distant, echoing around the sparsely furnished living room. So in a moment of weakness I allow my head to tilt down into the crook of Izara’s neck, inhaling the fruity, gentle jasmine scent of her perfume, nuzzling my nose against her goosebump forming skin. I feel her shift, the curve of her ass pressing against me as I allow my lips to press soft kisses onto her golden skin.

The dark haired girl lets out a shaky breath and the sound drives me wild, it taking every drop of my self discipline not to make everyone leave just so I could have my way with her, just to make her feel good. Izzie’s head tilts back, resting against my chest as I bite on her shoulder, my lips gliding and leaving sloppy kisses on her neck.

“Paige,” she whispers chuckling, clearly torn between asking me to stop and asking for more.

“You’re fucking killing me,” I murmur into her ear, my voice hoarse and trembling with need. 

The girl turns around, her green, emerald eyes wider than usual looking up at me as her hand moves onto my chest. I let my fingertips slide underneath the hem of her shirt, feeling the soft skin there. “We’ll have time. Later,” she comforts me softly, but it’s not enough.

I throw my head back in frustration and groan, like a child not getting their way.

“Izzie I’m so forreal, I need to have you before the game tomorrow or I’mma be so out of it.”

The girl giggles, shaking her head, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Come over in the morning?”

“I gotta leave at 10. Needa take my time with you.”

Izzie chuckles. “Okay, 8:30?”

“8:00,” I argue, though no amount of time would be enough.

“Do you need two hours?” The girl laughs but I shake my head, trying to stifle the grin on my face.

“Ion need more than five minutes ma, trust,” my words make Izzie’s cheeks turn a shade of red. “But need to take my time. Wanna do it just right.”

Izara might be poised and have a great poker face, but I can tell she needs it as bad as I do. It’s in the way her chest is heaving, the way her pupils are wide and the way her mouth is parted. So I lean in, my lips hovering over her ear.

“Gonna eat that pussy so good ma, gonna have you crying-”

“Yooo…”

I pull away urgently, helped by the fact that Izzie practically pushes me off her, both our heads turning to KK standing in the doorway, trying not to laugh.

“Uhh, I’mma be back,” she says turning around but I grab the shorter girl by the arm and pull her back in.

“Whatchu need?”

Izzie is blushing, trying to hide the smile growing onto her face by holding her hand over her mouth and staring at the wall.

“A tissue, I dropped some food,” KK says.

I gasp. “Bro not on the rug right?”

KK scoffs, grabbing the tissue from me. “Dallas changed you already ‘cause why you care about a rug more than me?”

-

Paige

Yo I’m so sorry I gotta head in early

That’s okay Paige, good luck. I’ll see you before the game, yeah?

I reread the texts on my screen that I never got an answer to. I’m not worried, she’s probably nervous. Or busy. But it’s so… unlike her. Paige was usually the one to message me back the moment I texted her. I was probably overthinking. I hated how I got when I liked someone. Not that I liked Paige. I wanted her badly. But there were no feelings involved and there surely could never be. I wasn’t even close to being ready.

Despite all that I could feel an uncomfortable twist somewhere deep in my stomach watching the way the blonde girl had left me on read. Like I always did when I began to get feelings. I was painfully aware of how scary it was, those feelings stirring within me again. I just had to keep them in control. I know how these things end. I know Paige seems amazing right now - unreal almost. But it was just an illusion. Soon she’d be bored of me, leaving me in tears, crying myself to sleep at 3am. That’s how it always ended up. I promised myself I’d never be that girl again.

-

“Jasper, please, could we just sit down and communicate?”

My voice is steady, gentle, like it had to be when he was in one of these moods. I sit on the couch, watching as he paces around me, trying not to blow up. I try to make myself small, breathe quiet, not look him in the eye, anything that might set him off. Once Jasper was set off there was nothing to do. I knew that better than anyone.

“Here we go again,” he groans, throwing his head back in frustration. A bitter, sarcastic laugh escapes his mouth.

“No, not like that, please. I swear I just want to talk-”

“No Izara you want to bitch about my drinking again. You’re behaving like a controlling bitch-”

There’s a pang of pain in my chest, the tears I’ve been swallowing making themselves known as my eyes grow wet.

“Please, Jasper, I’ve asked you before not to call me that,” I plead, my voice still soft but growing weaker.

The man rolls his eyes at the sight of me. “Wow, here we go again. Poor Zari, always perfect, always the victim.”

“I never said I was perfect, far from it! I’m just asking you to not call me a bitch,” I debate, my voice rising in response to feeling defensive.

“I didn’t even say you were a bitch! I said you’re behaving like one!” His voice is harsh, cutting through the air and ringing my ear painfully. Familiarly. This was a discussion we’d had about 15 times before. And it always went the same. I don’t even know why I was still trying. 

“God, you’re so manipulative, trying to put words into my mouth,” he murmurs under his breath. He’d said those words so many times part of me had started to think he might be right. Maybe I am manipulative. Maybe I need to just let him be. I’m being dramatic and his drinking wasn’t an issue. Jasper never physically hurt me or hit me. It could be so much worse. Words can only do so much.

I feel the tears spill over finally, dripping down my cheeks. As Jasper notices he lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “What, you’re crying now? Like you’re the victim here?”

“Jasper, please, I’m tired,” I cry, my voice shaky as I bury my face into my hands. “Can we just forget this and go to sleep? I’ve got that important meeting tomorrow.”

“Well probably should’ve thought of that before, huh? Before starting all this drama for nothing!”

“I just wished you wouldn’t have been so drunk tonight! I was having a hard day, I needed you with me!” I finally snap, yelling back. I never yell, but sometimes with Jasper it felt like it was the only way for him to hear me. Even though I always hated myself afterwards.

“So what? I’m a bad boyfriend? Worst boyfriend in the world?”

“No, that’s not what I said-”

“Fine, if I’m so bad I’ll leave,” Jasper simply says. walking to the entryway, grabbing his coat off the coat rack. Urgently, I get up and run after him, panic spreading all over me. He knew this triggered me. He did this every time he was about to “lose” one of our fights. Because it hurt me the most.

“Wait, wait wait wait,” I cry, my voice weak and trembling as I grab his arm. “Please no, don’t go, please, Jasper, please.”

He ignores me, pulling his arm out of my reach and looking for his keys.

“Jasper,” I sob, legs too shaky to hold me up anymore. I fall to my knees, trying not to throw up all over the man. “Jasper, please. I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m too hard on you. You’re so wonderful to me. I love you okay, I love you. I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me.”

The man finally turns, looking down at me and shaking his head as my wide eyes blink up at him. With a deep sigh, he puts down his keys and lifts me up from the ground.

“Are you done?” He asks, voice frustrated and tired.

I nod, tears still spilling from my eyes. “I’m sorry, please don’t go. Please.”

“I won’t Izara, but these fits of yours need to end,” Jasper says as his comforting, familiar arms wrap around me.

“You’re right, Jasper. It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

-

My cab finally pulls up to College Park Center, and I quickly slide in through the side door, making my way through the confusing corridors with practiced ease now. I wanted to find the blonde girl, just to make sure she was okay. Just to see her before the game. I check the gym, the weight room, the dining hall but see no sign of her. Finally, as a last resort, I knock on the door of the dressing room, shifting on my feet and smoothing over my black mini skirt and the red sweater hanging off my right shoulder nervously. At last the door opens, Lou peeking her head out with a smile.

“Oh hey.”

“Hey Lou, happy game day!” I greet her, trying to not make it obvious I was looking for someone. Like I was just casually there to wish the girls good luck.

“Thanks Zari, big day,” the girl smiles, looking at me expectantly.

“Oh, uh, is um, is-”

“Paige is here, you need her?” I don’t miss the grin on the brunette’s face, the knowing look she has in her eyes. Thought I had been hiding it better with Paige, apparently not.

“Yes, actually I do,” I chuckle awkwardly, clasping my hands in front of me, acrylics scratching against my skin. My heart races as I wait, my stomach turning at the idea of seeing her. Seeing Paige.

Soon the blonde girl arrives at the door, but the familiar wide smile isn't there. Her eyes look red, tired, the skin darker than usual underneath, mouth in a straight line. 

“Paige, are you okay?” I ask, taken back by her appearance.

She looks at me for a while, blue eyes landing on mine, big hand rubbing her jaw. “I’m alright.”

I can tell that she’s not. 

“Paige,” I repeat, looking at her challengingly. The blond sighs and shrugs and it’s then I notice the shaking of her hands. Uncontrollable, clearly visible. “Whoa, what’s going on darling?”

She looks back into the changing room before stepping out, shaky hand rubbing her eyes. I don’t miss the slight tremble of her lower lip, the way her blue eyes grow glossy.

“Whoa, hold on love,” I coo, grabbing a hold of her hand and pulling her into a new corridor, opening the door to the often empty media team office to find it desolate of people once more. “Come on.”

I close the door behind us and watch closely as the blonde plots herself down on the couch, chest heaving fast. 

“Paige, talk to me,” I comfort her, following behind and sitting next to her. As the blonde lifts her blue eyes off the floor, I see she’s tearing up avoiding my gaze.

“I’m so fucking scared Iz,” she admits, lower lip quivering. My heart fills with affection, and instinctively I wrap my arms around her broad, bare shoulders in her sports bra. 

“Of what?”

“Of screwing up, everyone got crazy expectations. Everyone gonna be watching,” Paige sighs, sniffling weakly. I had never seen her like this, in my head she wasn’t afraid of anything. Guess I was wrong.

“Paige,” I begin, pulling back and grabbing hold of her warm hands. “It’s a big moment, it’s okay to be nervous, to be scared even. But you’re not gonna fail. The only expectations that matter are the ones you put on yourself.”

“I don’t know, I love my girls y’know but fuck I don’t need em here today,” she sighs, wiping a tear from her left cheek. I let my thumb help her a little, brushing against her soft skin. 

“They wanted to surprise you, they love you very much, you know?”

“I know,” Paige murmurs, her thumbs rubbing the skin of my palms. “But I just needed to focus on myself today. I dunno, just feel really fucking overwhelmed.”

“Hey,” I stop her, chasing her gaze. The blonde’s blue eyes meet mine, finally softening. “You’re going to go out there, and you’re going to pretend it’s just you and your team at practice. No audience today, no one you know watching. Just you. And whether you get none of your shots in or all of them, it’s okay. And you get to try again. You’re just dipping your toes in okay? This isn't the defining moment of your career. It’s just one of many.”

Paige listens and takes every word in, processing as her eyes remain locked in mine. Finally her brows soften and she lets out a final, relieved breath. 

“My dad really liked you, talked about you all night after you left.”

“Really?” I grin, making the blonde nod with a smile. 

“My friends too, they wanna get to know you better,” Paige adds. I feel a slight panic in my chest for a moment, the fear of what Paige might’ve said to her friends about us. After all, we had agreed to be just friends despite everything. I hope she didn’t have the wrong idea that I might change my mind.

“Wish I had time to come see you this morning.”

I feel my cheeks heat up immediately. “Yeah?”

She nods, a small grin growing on her face. “Yeah, wouldn’t be feeling so tense.”

I chuckle as her hands let go of mine, landing on the back of my head and pulling me into a sweet, caring kiss that takes me by surprise. But I can’t bear to pull away, nor do I want to. So for a moment we kiss, our lips moving together sending jolts all over my body as the blonde’s hand lowers to my waist and pulls me closer to her. Without a thought my body obeys, skirt hiking up as she pulls me on top of her to straddle her.

Both of our breathing grows heavier as the kiss turns more urgent, Paige exhaling loud through her nose as her hand finds the soft skin of my bare upper thigh, grabbing it needily making me wince. I could feel my arousal pooling between my legs once more, the blonde’s hand sliding upwards until her thumb meets the sheer fabric of my panties, pressing against my clit. We both let out a quiet, desperate whimper, me from the contact, her from how wet I already was. 

This wasn’t sensible, anyone could walk in. Paige’s first ever game in the league would start in only a few hours and she had just been crying from feeling so overwhelmed. But both of us had forgotten, too consumed by the lust that had been eating us alive. I needed her. She needed me.

Paige pulls away from the kiss, long eyelashes blinking at me and pink lips slightly parted. She looked beautiful, like she was already completely out of it. 

“Need to feel you ma, please let me,” she whines, looking for any sign of approval on my face. “Need to feel this pussy around my fingers.”

No one had ever spoken in such a filthy way to me before. And it drove me crazy. The sheer dirtiness of the things Paige said, the way her voice turned hoarse and whiny, the way she really, truly behaved like she would die unless she got to fuck me. I had never experienced it before. Everything about it intoxicated me, my soaked panties prove of how much so.

“Paige, are you sure this is smart?” I ask, my voice weak and shaky.

“Ion care about smart, need to fuck you before my big game,” the blonde murmurs, beginning to kiss my neck, fingertips rubbing gentle circles on my clit against the fabric. “Please mama, need to make you cum, that’s all I want.”

I let out another whimper, her words winning me over.

“C’mon ma, can feel how wet you are for me. Lemme help baby, lemme take care of you.”

Finally I snap, desperately nodding. Without missing a beat, Paige’s fingers hook around the edge of my panties, pulling them to the side as I stay straddling her, feeling the cool air on my dripping cunt.

“This ain’t right. I gotta see that shit,” Paige murmurs and before I understand what she means, she’s pushing me back, my spine hitting the couch as she remains still, my thighs spread wide for her as she sits in between.

Paige’s blue eyes are nearly blown out black with lust as her gaze travels slowly from my flushed face, to my heaving chest, down my stomach, all the way to the panties slid to the side, finally landing on my core. I swear I have never seen the girl so dazed, like everything around her disappeared, her lips parting further, tongue darting out to lick them.

“Fuck,” she whispers, fingers spreading my lips apart to see my wetness glistening in the lighting of the office. To see my folds and the way I was already throbbing for her. I had never been looked at like that before, yet didn’t feel shy or unsure. Because I could tell Paige was in absolute awe.

“So fucking pretty, huh?” The blonde asks, finger carefully brushing up and down against my folds and clit, making my whole body shiver. She was barely touching me yet I couldn’t fight the whine spilling from my lips. This was so unlike me, spread out in overhead lighting in a room anyone could walk into at any moment with a girl I hadn’t even been out on a date with. But it was the last thing I cared about. I needed Paige Bueckers to fuck me now.

“Paige, fuck me,” I demand, my voice breathy and brows furrowed as I watch her.

A sly grin forms on her lips as she gathers wetness through my folds with ease, beginning to circle my clit lazily. The sound is obscene, caused by how slick I had grown for her in the past few minutes. I moan softly, covering my own mouth and letting my eyes fall closed.

“What do you need? Tell me baby,” Paige coos, but she knows. She can see the way my pussy is clenching around nothing, crying for her, begging to be filled. 

“Baby,” I whimper, bucking my hips but the blonde’s free hand brings me down by my thigh.

“Use your words ma.”

“Inside,” I whisper, cheeks growing redder at having to tell the girl with words what I needed from her.

“Yeah? You need my fingers inside your pussy?”

I nod, the words making my arousal grow even more.

“Please,” I add, hoping to hurry the blonde along.

Suddenly, Paige’s fingers slide downwards towards my entrance, circling before two of them begin to break into me, painfully slowly. A loud gasp threatens to spill from my lips but the blonde covers my mouth quickly, her fingers sliding into me all the way. 

It’s impossible to describe how good it feels, to feel her touch me like this. The stretch of her fingers making my body tense and relax simultaneously. I was in heaven, surely sex never felt like this before. Only with her.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight,” Paige hisses, beginning to curl her fingers against me. The sound of squelching quickly takes over, only joined with both our moans. My back arches desperately, and I feel myself writhing for more, for the blonde to move faster.

It’s in the moment I’m about to start begging for more, the familiar sound of a keycard being slid against the reader takes over. Someone’s about to open the door. Both of us panic, Paige pulling her fingers away and quickly getting up from the couch as I struggle to get off my back, pulling my skirt down eagerly right as Trey walks in.

“Oh hey!” He smiles widely, oblivious to the heavy breathing me and Paige are both trying to get under control. “Oh Paige! Whatchu doing here?”

“Uh,” she murmurs, fingers still glistening with me before she wipes them on her thigh. “We uh,”

“We were planning that pregame interview! Should we film it soon?” I quickly interrupt, noticing Paige’s flustered expression. The shake in my legs is obvious, so I lean against the wall next to me.

“Yeah yeah, the interview,” the blonde murmurs which makes Trey’s brown eyes light up.

“Well great! Why don’t you go change and we film after.”

Paige glances at me as I do her, both of us trying to ignore the tension in the room that the man seemed to not recognise.

“Uhh yeah, lemme go do that,” the taller girl mumbles and leaves, my heart pounding faster than ever from earlier. As she closes the door, Trey turns to me.

“By the way Zari, we shouldn’t let anyone back here that isn’t part of the team, okay? Linda would freak.”

“Oh,” I say, brushing my hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Trey looks at me for a while, leaning back against the desk behind him.

“You know, it’s okay to be friends with players but I think it’s better to keep things at a professional distance. Don’t wanna be getting too close, you know what I mean?”

I can tell he’s digging for something, trying to get me to fess up. Instead I cross my arms over my chest and nod. “Agreed, shall we prepare the interview?”

-

“Okay, Paige, stand here.”

Trey is maneuvering the blonde around, trying to find the best lighting as I check my notes over and over, my mind still swirling with all the interrupted moments that are growing tiresome. Paige is fiddling with her hands, staring at anything but me feeling just as frustrated by the interruption.

“Ahh, got it. Zari, would you.”

“Yes,” I murmur and step next to the blonde, a slight awkward distance between us. Every cell in me was itching to get closer, to press into her. I was dying for her. But it wasn’t the time. I had to focus on work. It was just hard to look away from her. That’s it.

“Closer Zari,” Trey chuckles, reaching for my shoulder and pushing me closer to Paige. We exchange an awkward, slightly giddy smile and I can tell the girl is beginning to blush, our shoulders pressing together. The blonde gazes upwards towards the low ceilings of the corridor, trying to kill the smile growing on her face.

“Okay, we good?” Trey asks, and I let out a soft giggle. Paige looks at me and giggles too, confusing the man behind the camera. “Something wrong?”

“No, no, we’re good,” I giggle, looking to the floor. The blonde nods in agreement, licking her lips to stifle the grin.

“Whenever you’re ready ladies,” Trey says, pressing record.

I take a deep breath, turning my eyes to the blue ones beside me. The ones I could get lost in forever. But now wasn’t the time. Not the time Izara. Work.

“I am here with our dear rookie, Paige,” I smile, licking my lower lip and looking away from the blonde, her intense gaze becoming too much. “First game today, how are we feeling?”

Paige kisses her teeth and sighs. “Oh man,” she starts, blue eyes boring into the side of my face. “It feels surreal, I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life and now it’s finally here. Feelin’ really blessed and fortunate for sure. Playing my first against the Lynx just feels right, you know.”

I watch as her lips move, the way the edges of them curve when she speaks, barely registering the words coming out from how badly I needed her. 

“Favourite thing about Dallas so far?” I ask, crossing my arms and smiling up at the blonde. Her blue eyes are sparkling, a slight glimmer in them as she watches me with a smirk. As if the camera wasn’t filming every moment.

“Oh definitely the ribs,” Paige grins, suddenly interrupted by Arike standing at the other end of the corridor.

“Yooo, bro what?!” 

Me and Paige both begin to laugh, leaning into each other as we do. My hand instinctively graces her forearm as Trey pangs the camera to Arike.

“Alright, alright. And Arike,” Paige chuckles, making me scoff.

“Oy!” I shout, slapping her arm playfully.

“And you!” She grins, raising her hands in defeat. I can’t help the blush covering my face or the stupid smile stretching across.

“As I should be,” I joke, taking a deep breath and trying to remind myself of the planned questions and of Trey’s watchful eyes. It felt impossible under Paige’s gaze so intensely roaming my face, eye fucking me.

“You’ve got some friends and family in the audience tonight, who are you most excited to see you play tonight?”

The blonde looks at me for a meaningful moment, and I don’t miss what she wants to say. What she’s trying to express with her eyes. What she can’t admit in front of Trey.

“Uhh,” she blinks stupidly, finally breaking eye contact. “Probably my dad, yeah. But I’m excited to play for all the Wings fans too, needa impress them.”

“I’m sure you will,” I smile, my tone clearly flirty yet I don’t even recognise the fact. “Happy game day!!”

“Happy game day,” Paige echoes my words, wrapping an arm around my shoulder just as Trey puts the camera down. Yet the man keeps staring over at the two of us, studying every move, every exchanged look.

“Paige! Go change and let’s start warming up, c’mon!” Chris nods the blonde towards the lockers. I see her eyes turn to me once more, softening. 

“Wish me luck ma,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a hug. I let her.

“Good luck Paige,” I mumble into her eyes, letting go and watching as she walks into the dressing room, leaving me alone with Trey. I could feel nerves bubbling in my stomach, heart beginning to pound in anticipation for the game. The man watches me for a while, deep in thought.

“Zari…. I gotta ask you something,” the man starts, his voice echoing in the corridor. He walks us to our office letting me know this wasn’t going to be a light subject, which made me nervous.

I sit on the desk, my legs hanging off as I cross them and watch the brunette pace around the room for a moment before turning to me. 

“Is there something going on with you and Paige?”

Fuck.

I think about lying, looking through my brain for any cover up story. There isn’t one. I was a horrible liar anyway. So I just sigh, looking down before nodding.

“Yeah, I didn’t mean for there to be but I like her. She likes me,” I admit, carefully looking at the man. “Look, it’s nothing though. Nothing serious, just fun.”

“For fucks sake Zari,” Trey sighs, rubbing his forehead.

“Excuse me?” I ask offended. Sure, it wasn’t great, but he was hugely overreacting.

Trey walks over to me and grabs a hold of my hands, stopping much too close to my liking.

“Zari, Linda is very… strict. You know this. But she does not allow anything like this, she must’ve told you? She gave me this big speech too when I came in.”

I blink at him, my lips parting a little. It wasn’t allowed. That’s it. That simple.

“Wh- no she never said,” I murmur. Trey nods, letting out a sigh.

“Zari you have to end it. You could get fired.”

My heart drops, mind starts spinning. I could get fired. Have to go back to the UK. Just like that. Fired. Just because I didn’t have the self-discipline to resist Paige.

“Trey, you’re not going to-”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not. Linda won’t know. But only if you end it now, okay? If she finds out I know I could get in trouble too.”

I look at the walls, covered in pictures of the entire Dallas Wings overtime, faces changing and some persisting year after year. I finally land on this year’s picture, on the blonde standing on the right side, smiling that familiar, wide, charming smile. It didn’t matter how much I liked her, how badly I needed her on me. None of it would matter if I got fired, if I got my visa revoked. I couldn’t do this dance we’d been playing the past month anymore. I had to end it.

-

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[tongue-like-a-razor]

Brother's Best Friend - Part 13

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: mild angst, swearing, fluff

WC: 2800+

Part 1 | Masterlist

It’s nearly midnight on a Friday and Jake has already stated that he needs to leave at least six times. Bradley is due back any minute and if he finds Jake at the house with you, he’ll undoubtedly ask questions.

But, between his goodbyes, Jake continues to kiss you. On your lips, along your jawline, down your neck.

“I have to go,” he declares firmly, as though you’re keeping him hostage.

He proceeds to graze his teeth over your collarbone and flick his tongue at the base of your neck. You giggle. “No one is stopping you.”

Jake drops his head and nestles it under your chin with a groan. “Could you?” he asks, making you chuckle again.

His hand hovers uncertainly below your shoulder blades, over the clasp of your bra, while the other slips past the curve of your waist to your leg, noticeably avoiding your ass. Jake has done a remarkable job of keeping things PG since the two of you got together. This suits you just fine because, as much as you want him to touch you all over, you’re not overly keen on having to live up to every other girl Jake has ever been with.

You comb your fingers through his hair and he sighs blissfully into your chest. “Stay,” you say quietly, knowing full well what that would entail.

Jake lets out another groan and leans his weight into you, pushing you over onto your back on the couch. “Maybe I will,” he mutters defiantly, as though your offer had been a challenge.

You let out a soft laugh, certain that he’s bluffing. After all, staying would mean having to explain to your brother what he’s doing at your house past midnight while Bradley isn't home. “Do you really think he’s going to make you choose?” you ask as Jake settles himself behind you on the couch and drapes an arm over your shoulder.

He sighs and you feel his breath warm the back of your ear. “I wouldn’t blame him,” he replies.

You bite your lip anxiously. “We still have to tell him.”

Jake presses his mouth to the back of your head and mumbles, “I know,” into your hair.

You feel him shift behind you as he struggles to fit himself on the couch. He kicks the armrest by accident. “You want me to move?” you ask.

At these words, his hold on you tightens and he mutters, “Don’t you dare.”

You giggle. “You’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Jake moans into the throw pillow under your head and then reluctantly sits up. “I just want to spend the night with my girl!” he whines, repositioning himself so that he can rest his head on your chest when he lies back down.

You smile at him and pat his head sympathetically.

…

“I’ll be home late again tonight,” Bradley says, finally sitting down to eat his lunch after spending over half an hour building the perfect sandwich.

Jake, who’s just finished eating a second bowl of cereal, shoots a brief glance in your direction.

“Cool,” you say, ignoring Jake’s foot that’s currently creeping into your territory under the table. You kick him before he tries anything untoward and he winces in silence. “Have fun.”

Bradley looks at you suspiciously. “I haven’t even told you what I’m doing.”

You lift your eyebrows at him guiltily. “Well, I’m sure you wouldn’t be doing it if it weren’t fun.”

Bradley shrugs and goes back to his sandwich. You look over at Jake, who’s chuckling lightly into his bowl, and glide your bare foot up his calf. He freezes, blinking pointedly at the milk in his bowl. With a straight face, he lowers his hand and curls his fingers around your ankle. You panic, trying to yank it out of his grasp, but his grip is too strong. He eyes you mischievously, knowing he’s won this round. Meanwhile, Bradley bites into his sandwich, blissfully unaware.

“You should come, Seresin,” you brother suggests. “One of the bartenders told me she thinks you’re cute.”

Jake leans back in his seat and makes a face. “Nah.” You feel his thumb begin to stroke the top of your foot.

“Why not?” you ask him innocently. “Don’t you want to get laid?”

Jake throws you a smirk and squeezes your foot under the table. “Always,” he responds with a wink.

“Yes, dude!” Bradley exclaims happily, slamming the table. “Trust me, if you’re coming, you’re gonna get laid.”

Jake looks back over at Bradley uncomfortably. “Not tonight, man,” he says.

“Why?” Bradley slumps back in his seat, clearly disappointed. You can tell that he misses his days of debauchery with his best friend.

“You should go,” you tell Jake. “Maybe you’ll get lucky,” you add, shrugging, when Jake looks back at you, unamused.

“It’s got nothing to do with luck, little girl,” he says, leaning into the table to get closer to you.

You roll your eyes at him and finally pull your foot out of his grasp. “Please,” you say.

“Please, what?” Jake mutters, raising his eyebrows at you suggestively.

The insinuation makes your stomach leap into your throat.

Meanwhile, Bradley seems to miss the entire exchange. “Oh my good god, this is so fucking good!” he exclaims as he continues to devour his artisan creation of a sandwich. “What are you up to tonight?” he asks you between bites.

You gulp, suddenly unable to look Jake in the eye. “I kind of just want to make out with somebody.”

“Woah.” Bradley holds up a hand. “We did not need to know that.”

But Jake is staring at you unblinkingly. “Just with anybody?” he asks boldly as Bradley rises from the table.

You eye your brother as he makes his way to the kitchen sink, completely oblivious. You shake your head at your boyfriend's audacity. “Yes, Jake,” you retort. “Just with whoever walks into my face first.”

Jake snorts. “Good to know.”

…

That evening, about an hour after your brother leaves the house, there’s a knock on your front door.

“Since when do you not just barge in?” you ask, opening the door.

Jake, who’s got his hand behind his back, brings out a bouquet of flowers and holds it out for you. “Since I’m trying to make a good impression now.”

You snicker, taking the flowers from his hand and admiring the arrangement. “Well, so far so good, Seresin.”

“Good,” he says, stepping inside and putting his arm around your waist. “Because I’m here to walk into your face.”

You let out a laugh, letting him capture your lips in a kiss.

“So, listen,” he says. “I know you had your heart set on making out. But I thought that we could go somewhere first.”

“Go where?”

“It’s a surprise,” he says, winking at you.

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. “If you say haunted house…”

He chuckles. “Good times.”

“For whom?” you exclaim as he ushers you out the door.

“For me, obviously. I got to hold your hand and everything.”

“Aww, you wanted to hold my hand?” You take his hand in yours as the two of you walk to his car.

“I wanted to do more than hold your hand,” he admits, bringing your hand to his lips and giving it a kiss as he opens the door for you.

“Like?” you ask playfully as you climb into the passenger seat.

Jake watches you with a smile as you buckle your seat belt. “Like walk into your face,” he says, kissing you on the mouth again.

…

“Uhh,” you utter, staring at the laundromat sign above the dingy door without stepping out of the car even as Jake pulls open your door. “So, when you said surprise… I didn’t realize we’d need to bring fabric softener.”

“Get out of the car, smartass,” he says, gesturing for you impatiently.

You climb out warily as Jake ducks into his backseat to grab a leather jacket and a pair of sunglasses.

“C’mon,” he says, ushering you toward the door.

“Seresin, what the fuck,” you say, eyeing the homeless encampment at the corner of the establishment.

He pulls open the door and a bell rings as you enter. There are several rows of washing machines and dryers inside and the fluorescent lights overhead flicker every few seconds like you’re in a post-apocalyptic movie. The laundromat is deserted.

Jake approaches the third machine on the far left and opens the top. Then he proceeds to dump in his jacket.

“Jake, you can’t wash leather in a machine!” you hiss, still rooted to the spot by the front door as you take in your surroundings.

“Relax,” he says, and then he tosses in his sunglasses and drops the door.

You eye him skeptically as he beckons you to follow him. “Jake, we said no more haunted houses,” you remind him, slipping your hand in his when he starts toward the back. The flickering of the lights seems to intensify.

Jake glances down at you with a smirk but doesn’t respond. He stops at a vending machine that’s stationed against the back wall. “Twizzlers?” he asks.

“No way!” you say. “Nerds, please.”

“You're so polite today,” Jake notes and you glance at his face just in time to catch a cheeky smirk.

The throwback to your conversation in the kitchen makes your heart convulse for a moment, but you decide to ignore his comment.

Jake slips a bill into the slot of the vending machine. He gets both Nerds and Twizzlers and then starts entering a third letter-number combination.

“What else are you getting?” you ask, scanning the offers for the code he’s entered, which, you quickly realize, doesn’t exist. “That’s not an option.”

But before Jake can respond, the entire vending machine starts to slide to the side, exposing a dimly lit staircase in behind, leading down to a metal door.

“Jake,” you croak, clutching his hand again. “I’m going to murder you. Assuming you don’t murder me first.”

Jake laughs. “Don’t worry, darlin’. If I was gonna murder you, I’d have done it already.” He leads the way down the stairs, although you hang onto his arm so tightly, he might as well be giving you a piggyback ride. When you get to the door, he pushes it open, revealing beyond it a scene unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed in your life.

You walk inside first, captivated by the warmth of the place; by the beauty. Jake follows, confirming his reservation with the host. The bar is like something out of a fairytale – if fairytales had bars. Low lights, glowing candles, a fireplace blazing in the middle of the room. You look up, wondering how you missed the chimney on your way in. Small tables with marble tops dot the floor. Elaborate sconces adorn the walls, and framed, faded photographs compliment the elegant wallpaper. “A speakeasy,” you breathe excitedly as Jake places a hand on your back and leads you to one of the tables.

“Thought we needed a place that was out of the way,” he said, pulling a velvety armchair out for you to sit on.

You give him a look as he walks around the table to sit across from you. “Well, it’s definitely out of the way.”

Jake grins. “It’s got darts,” he says, pointing at the corner to your right.

You give him a smile. “Of course it does.”

He chuckles. “It’s also got a bar that serves vintage cocktails. And their sliders are incredible.”

“How did you find this place?” you ask, perusing the extensive drink menu.

“I’ve uh, been here a few times,” he says vaguely, raising a couple of fingers to alert the server that the two of you were ready to order.

You look up at him questioningly as the waiter arrives. “I’ll have the Old Mule,” you say. Jake orders a whiskey sour and some sliders for the table. “Been here with whom?” you ask the moment the server departs.

Jake throws you a sheepish look. “Well, not with Bradley.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’ve taken another girl here?”

Jake scoffs. “I’ve never taken anybody anywhere.”

You nod, unsurprised. “Except to bed.”

He shakes his head at you with a smirk. “Wasn’t always in a bed.”

“Ew!” You cringe. “I don’t want to know that!”

“You started it.”

“You elaborated,” you retort. Then, after a moment, you press. “Come on, tell me. How did you know about this place?”

Jake sighs. “There was a girl –”

“I fucking knew it!” You shake your head.

“Just let me finish, woman!”

You raise your eyebrows cynically but allow him to continue.

“There was a girl in my squadron –”

“Whom you fucked,” you say nonchalantly, unable to contain yourself.

“No, I did not fuck her,” Jake says under his breath just as the server arrives with your drinks.

You and Jake each give him a polite – albeit uncomfortable – smile. “You didn’t?” you ask skeptically.

“No,” Jake restates. Then, he adds, “Her grandmother –”

“You didn’t,” you croak, horrified.

Jake fixes you with a glare. “I can wait,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Fine.” You sigh. “Go on and tell me how you fucked her grandmother.”

Jake presses his lips together to hold back a laugh. “Her grandmother was a phenomenal baker. She’d always send us pastries and desserts and, let me tell you, an éclair tastes a hundred times better after a long day of flying. Anyway, I ran into her one day at a farmer’s market. She had about a million bags, so I helped her get to her car. She asked me to join her for a luncheon she was dreading. It was with her old classmates from college. Apparently, this joint’s been their hangout for over half a century.”

You watch Jake with knotted eyebrows and a small smile. “You were her date?”

Jake shrugged. “Not officially. I think she just needed some support because those little old ladies were ruthless. Asking her all kinds of questions she didn’t seem very eager to answer.”

“I wonder why she went at all.”

“They were the only friends she had left, she told me.”

“That’s sad,” you say.

Jake purses his lips. “Anyway, I figured she needs a new friend. So, I’ve been seeing Margaret for close to two years now. This is where we come.”

You blink at Jake in awe. “You’re cheating on me with a grandma?”

Jake laughs. “She knows all about you, actually.”

Your jaw drops. “She does not!”

“It was her idea to bring you here.”

You feel as though you could cry, inexplicably touched that Jake has told somebody about your relationship. “I love her,” you say.

Jake chuckles. “You should come out with us next time.”

You smile at him, relieved that this place wasn’t the setting of yet another one of his hookups. “I’m surprised you never showed Bradley this place.”

Jake shrugs. “Almost took you here a couple times,” he says, taking a sip of his drink.

“Really? Like, before we started dating?”

He nods, smiling sheepishly. “Before I realized why I wanted to take you here.”

You drink for a moment, then say, “I have to ask: what was with the machine upstairs? Your jacket?”

“It’s a donation. Kind of like a ‘pay what you can’ cover,” he responds, rubbing his hands together excitedly when the server arrives with the sliders.

“I love that,” you muse, picking up one of the little burgers and devouring half of it in one bite. “I love everything about this,” you add, covering your mouth as you chew on the most delicious slider you’ve ever tasted.

Jake grins at you proudly. “Now,” he says, changing the subject. “Why are you trying to pimp me out to your brother’s bartender friends?”

You meet his gaze with a smirk. “You know,” you respond casually. “Just trying to keep up the charade.”

Jake narrows his eyes. “I never asked you to do that,” he says.

You shrug. “Couldn’t hurt, right?”

Jake purses his lips in thought, studying you at length. You’re surprised that this doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable like it would have a few months ago. Now, you’re confident enough to maintain eye contact indefinitely if he so chooses. Unless, of course, he makes another suggestive remark.

He doesn't however, and you can't be sure whether you're relieved or disappointed by this. You spend the rest of the evening trying various cocktails and getting your ass handed to you at darts and, before you know it, the two of you are pulling up to your house at the end of the night, deciding which drinks you liked best, because neither of you wants to address the very real possibility that this might have been not only your very first but also your very last date ever.

“Bradley’s home,” you mutter, as though Jake can’t see Bradley’s Bronco in the driveway for himself.

Jake sighs heavily, pulling on the handbrake a little more aggressively than usual.

“You should go,” you say, because your brother would certainly be surprised to see you walk in past midnight with Jake, considering your original plans entailed walking into somebody’s face.

But Jake is already opening his door and stepping out of the car.

“Jake,” you begin, also climbing out of your seat and shutting your door.

But Jake doesn’t wait for you to finish. He walks around the front of the car determinedly and holds out his hand for you to take. “Let’s go,” he says.

You gape at him in alarm. “W-what?”

Jake takes your hand in his and starts for the front door.

“What are you doing?” you ask anxiously, running to keep up with his long strides.

“What I should’ve done in the very beginning,” he responds firmly. He reaches out to turn the doorknob, but the door opens before he even makes contact.

Read Part 14

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[lieslab]

Shadows and silhouettes

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Summary: You admit when you stress out, your brain causes you to imagine things out of the ordinary.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: This was a request from what feels like ages ago. The request was so vague, so I made this more on the light-hearted side of things. Although it's shorter, I hope you enjoy <3

_ _ _

Chan:

“Hey, Chan?” 

“Huh?” Chan glanced up from his desk. His laptop sat open as he saved a file. “What’s up?” 

“How big are the spiders in Australia?” 

“Um…” He grimaced and sucked in a deep breath. “They’re pretty big, why? Did you see a big spider? I can happily reassure you that the spiders here are nowhere near the same size.” 

You didn’t take your eyes off a certain spot on the wall. When Chan noticed, he pushed himself from his seat and stood up. “Is it over there? I can get my shoe and take care of it.” He stepped over behind you. The scent of his spicy cologne filled your nostrils. 

You blinked and shook your head. “Nah, never mind. I must have imagined it. I’m really stressed and it went away when I blinked. Thanks anyway, it’s good to know that I can count on you.” You smiled and patted his shoulder. “Anyway, I’ll be back later, I’ve gotta go grocery shopping. I’ll see you soon!” 

His mouth opened to say something, but words didn’t come out. You leaned over, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and left the room. Your words echoed in his head. He glanced around the area, still worried about a nearby spider. 

Australian or not, it still didn’t mean he liked spiders. 

_ _ _ 

Minho: 

“What did you say?” Your head jerked over your shoulder at the sound of a whispered voice. 

Minho stared at you with a raised eyebrow. “What? Nothing. I haven’t said anything.” The two of you were standing in line at a cafe. Soft murmurs filled the air, but you swore he said something behind you. 

“Are you sure?” Your eyes narrowed. “If you have a problem with my drink of choice-” 

“Woah,” his hands went up, “I didn’t say anything, yet. Since you want to start, I can say something now. Your drink of choice is pure shit. How much sugar and caffeine does a single person need? You’re going to cause your heart to explode.” 

“Untwist your dick and get off your high horse! Want to complain about me and my order? At least, I don’t drink Americanos. No flavor. Nothing, but diluted bean juice. Disgusting.” 

He reached up and pressed a finger to the center of your forehead. “Ding, dong, your opinion is wrong.” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“You’re hearing the voice of God. He’s saying make better coffee choices. If you don’t, the devil is going to get you.” 

“It’s actually probably psychosis or something.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Nothing.” You spun back around, leaving him in disbelief. He blinked rapidly, looking around and wondering if anyone else heard your words. When you didn’t say anything else, he shook his head. 

“I knew you were a nut case, but I didn’t think it was that bad.” 

“Hey, I heard that. I’m going to poison your coffee.” 

“Spare me empty threats and just put me out of my misery.” 

_ _ _ 

Changbin: 

“Do you ever see or hear things when you’re stressed?” The words came out of your mouth without a single stutter or call of alarm. You uttered the words with your head against the arm of the couch, as if they really didn’t matter much. 

“What?” 

“I asked if you see or hear things when you’re stressed. Like you know, shadows and faint whispers and whatnot.” 

Changbin stared at you with wide eyes. “I-I um… no?” He frowned and shook his head. “I don’t believe that I ever have. Do you do that?” 

“Yeah, sometimes.” 

“I think we should get you seen by a doctor. That doesn’t seem normal or okay. Does your head hurt? Are you having vision issues? Quick, how many fingers am I holding up?” 

He held up three fingers and it caused you to laugh. Your head shook and your hair flew in multiple different directions. “No, it’s not like that. My head is fine and I can see perfectly fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m positive,” you insisted. 

“You worry me sometimes.” 

You squirmed over to his side of the couch and laid your head on his thigh. “I’m okay, I swear. I think I just worry too much and my anxiety causes issues.” 

“And you’re sure it’s manageable and under control?” His hand reached down to play with your hair.

“Absolutely.” 

“Good.” 

You smiled as he kissed the top of your head. 

_ _ _ 

Hyunjin: 

“Stay put! Stay there! Don’t move!” Hyunjin held a hand up to you. Worried dark eyes were wide. “Just don’t move and I’ll help you. I can go get Felix, he has that big ass bible. Channie, hyung can help us too.” 

You stared at him with a raised eyebrow. “For what?” 

“You just said you hear things that aren’t there! That’s like the first sign of demonic possession. Felix knows his bible! I’m sure we can get Changbin involved to hold you down. The devil can’t fight off all of us.” 

“Hyunjin, I don’t need an exorcism!” 

“Demonic possession!” 

“I’m not possessed!” 

“You are!” He screamed when you stood up from the kitchen table. His fingers went up in a small cross. “Stay back, demon! Stay back! In the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit, I command you to-” 

He cut off when your lips met his. You cupped his cheeks and gently patted them. “Would a demonically possessed person do that?” 

“No, but a succubus and an incubus would. This doesn’t make me feel better. I need Felix to conjure up some holy water. My spirit is in danger.” His hand went to his chest and he shook his head frantically. “I can feel it.”

_ _ _ 

Han: 

“And you’ve just dealt with this for how long?” Han’s head tipped to the side. “These um… things?” 

You chuckled, trying not to fall victim to his cuteness. “A long time. It’s just become a part of my life. I don’t fear it and it only happens when I’m really stressed.” 

“So if you see a shadow figure, I won’t see the shadow figure?” 

“You shouldn’t. It’s just me and my brain that’s causing the issue, not yours.” 

His water bottle crinkled in his hand and his entire body shook with a brief shiver. “I don’t know how you put up with that. Why don’t you freak out? If that was me, I’d need to be put out of my misery or put on medicine or something.” 

“It’s not that bad.” 

“Bro, I think seeing Casper the friendly ghost floating above your head is pretty bad.” Han frowned and lowered his voice. “What if he tries to seduce you? You’re mine.” 

“Babe, Casper is a ghost child and it’s not like that.” 

“Oh! Thank God!” He slumped over in his chair relieved. “I’m safe for another day. I can’t lose you to a hot ghost.” 

“You’re such a loser.” 

“Put some respect on my brand, a hot loser.” 

_ _ _ 

Felix: 

The first time you told Felix about your experiences with stress, he frowned. His hand reached out and he pressed the back of his palm against the back of your head. Your eyebrows furrowed, “what are you doing?” 

“I’m checking to see if you have a fever because that sounded like a delusion. You can’t possibly be serious, but I don’t think you’re burning up either. Sweetheart, are you having a mental health crisis? I have an advocate on speed dial and-” 

You laughed and shook your head. “No, Felix, I’ve made my peace with this a long time ago. It’s just random stuff and it means nothing.” 

“Can I still take you to the doctor? It’d make me feel a lot better about this. I just want to make sure you’re not overlooking something, I don’t mean to overstep, really.” 

“You’re sure it’d make you feel better?” 

He nodded. 

“Then I suppose I’ll make an appointment for next week. Just try not to worry too much until then, okay?” 

His arms wrapped around your waist tighter. “I’ll try, but you make these things so difficult sometimes. I love you an awful lot and want the best for you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“I love you more.” 

“And I love you most.” 

_ _ _ 

Seungmin: 

“Okay, what the fuck?” 

“What?” You blinked innocently, wondering why he seemed so stunned. “It’s a harmless and simple thing.” 

“Uh, yeah,” he scoffed. “Sure. Because normal people see bugs, blink, and they disappear. Abracadabra or whatever. Uh-huh. Sure.” 

You groaned and threw yourself back into your chair. ��Why do you have to be like that? It’s not that big of a deal. It’s only once in a while, anyway. You’re making something so serious out of nothing.” 

“If you admit this to a doctor, they’re going to throw your ass in the mental ward.” 

“Now you’re being silly.” 

“Straight jacket and all.” 

You rolled your eyes, trying to focus on the food on your plate. “You’re ruining my dinner.” 

“ME?” His jaw dropped and he pointed the fork to his chest. “You just told me you see flies in this house when they don’t exist! You’re the one watching the spiders of smashings past, web up my fine china! I told you that this is why you take the bugs outside and stop killing them. Now you’ve got their ghosts haunting your dumbass.” 

You grumbled and rolled your eyes. 

“Keep up that attitude and next thing you know, they’re going to haunt your hole.” 

“Up yours, Kim Seungmin.” 

_ _ _ 

Jeongin: 

Jeongin’s eyes widened after your announcement. He collapsed his hands together, pulled them apart, and threw them up in the air. You shrugged and pulled the barren blankets over your body. “I told you it was weird.” 

“I’m truly speechless. I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m like…” 

“Like what?” You rolled over to face him. 

“Ten seconds away from losing it. How are you so calm about this?” 

“The first time it happened I wasn’t. Do you know how haunting it was? I looked out the back door and there was a vampire.” 

His nose scrunched up and his lips parted. His head tipped in a look of disgust. “What the fuck does that mean?” 

“He waved at me and flashed his fangs.” 

“And you didn’t think to call the cops or something?” 

“For what? I blinked and he disappeared.” 

“You would not survive a home invasion. I love you so much and you know that, but oh my god. If you see a person lingering and peering into your back door, you should call the cops for someone trespassing.” 

“And tell them what? A vampire was at my back door? He gave me a drive by flashing?” You rolled your eyes, rolled further into the pillow, and shut your eyes. “They’d think I was high on crack.” 

“Sometimes, I really think you are.” 

“Harsh.” 

“I really don’t know what to say.” 

“Just go to sleep.” 

He sighed and pulled the covers up to his chin. “Great. Now I’m going to be afraid that we have a vampire of interest lurking around outside.” 

“We do. You live with Chan. I’m pretty sure he’s raiding the kitchen for garlic, so he can make spaghetti and garlic bread.” 

“It’s three in the morning!” 

“And vampire producers have to eat a fulfilling meal too.”

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[fear-is-truth]

༉‧₊˚. j’s note. for @redskies-7. turned out a bit longer than i expected but only because i adored your request … warnings: mature content. 18+. mastūrbation. fingēring

peter had been on high alert ever since the mission that left you with nasty gashes across your abdomen. the memory of you collapsing, blood soaking through your suit, haunted him, and he’d been an absolute wreck ever since. even now, with bandages wrapped snug around your waist and most of the pain fading to a dull ache, he still treated you like you were on death’s doorstep. “okay, careful, careful,” he’d mutter every time you so much as shifted on the bed. peter would zip over in a blur, fluffing pillows and checking the bandages even when you insisted you were fine.

you had tried to hint that you wanted his attention for something other than fussing over you. but to your disappointment, he’d just shake his head, “uh, no can do, babe,” he’d say, practically vibrating with nervous energy. “you need rest, and i’m, like, a terrible influence when it comes to resting. last thing i wanna do is, y’know, make things worse.”

but you were feeling better. really. and you were tired of the distance he was forcing between you, however well-intentioned it was. late one night, you woke up feeling restless, perhaps a little too desperate. the ache of your injuries having dulled considerably, transferring to a different kind of ache, slow and burning between your thighs. peter was sprawled next to you, completely conked out and snoring softly. wincing, you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position before slipping your fingers under the waistline of your panties.

you squirmed at the much-needed contact, hoping it would be enough to take the edge off. you bit your lip, trying to stifle any moans… but your small fingers were far from enough to ease some of the pent-up frustration from two long weeks of forced rest. but then, just as you finally felt the tickle of a weak orgasm, you heard your boyfriend let out a low, sleepy groan.

“hey… what’s goin’ on?” you turned your head to see him blinking himself awake, silver hair sticking up in all directions. as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, they landed on the guilty look on your face, how your hands were conveniently under the covers. a slow, lazy grin spread across his face as he put two and two together.

“wait a sec…” he raised an eyebrow, looking far too pleased with himself. “are you…?” heat flooded your cheeks, and you froze, pulling the blanket up over your face in embarrassment. “peter, it’s nothing. just… go back to sleep,” you mumbled, but he only chuckled, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“wait, are you…?” he asked, a hint of poorly concealed amusement in his voice. “no way.” he stretched out his arms and looked at you, that amused smirk making your face go even hotter. “you couldn’t just ask me for help?”“peter,” you whispered, mortified, pulling the blanket up in an attempt to hide your face.

“just—g-go back to sleep.”

“nah, can’t do that now,” he gently tugged the blanket back down to see your face. his smile turned downright devious. “you’re over here trying to go solo when i’m literally right here?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “babe, i’m almost offended. i thought we were supposed to be a team.”

you buried your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed. but, to your surprise, the teasing stopped immediately; off like a switch. peter nudged your hands away gently, looking at you with earnest concern.

“look,” he began, softer this time, “i know you’re still healing, but—i’ll get back in the groove real quick. don’t want you wearing yourself out, right?” peter flexed his fingers, stretching them out with a flourish, and then, his whole hand started to tremble, no that wasn’t the right word — his hand was vibrating. there was a slight blur to it, as his fingers quivered like a hummingbird’s wings, the movement almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

“…or did you forget my specialty?” he wiggled his eyebrows. you giggled despite yourself, embarrassment starting to melt away as peter braced himself with one forearm planted carefully by your side, making sure not to press into your bandaged torso. “so… what do you say?” he whispered into your ear, “let me take care of you?”

and just like that, you were granted something you’d been denied for weeks. peter had always prided himself on his unique style of “multitasking”. thanks to his ADHD, focusing on one thing wasn’t exactly his strong suit, but with you, he was hell-bent on trying. besides, he was pretty sure he could handle it—especially since you’d made it clear you really needed him right now.

“mghm ohmygod yes, right there, right there–”

he let out a little chuckle at your enthusiasm, lips brushing along your jawline as his vibrating fingers plunged in and out of you. “you know i kept telling myself, ‘peter, you gotta be responsible, let her heal,’” his voice dropped, almost like he was letting you in on some big secret.

“but… c’mon, you’re you. how was i supposed to stay away?” he moved to press a kiss just below your ear, letting out a little dramatic sigh. normally, you would’ve been slightly annoyed with peter’s chattiness, but his voice now possessed a soothing quality that served the purpose to ground you… and distract you from the lewd squelches that reached your ears.

“fuck, you’re, like, my kryptonite. i missed you like this,” your fingers were tangled in his hair, threading through the soft, messy silver strands, and as you gave a gentle tug, peter let out a low hum of contentment. his eyelids fluttered for a second, the corners of his mouth tugging up into a lazy grin as his lips continued their slow, lazy journey from your collarbone down to the soft curve of your breast.

“mhm, keep doin’ that baby. you’re so good fer me.”

he mumbled against your skin, swirling his tongue around your rock-hard nipple while sinking in knuckle-deep. reduced to nothing but a writhing mess in the sheets, the only response that sounded from you was a strained whimper, the moment you felt his fingers curl against your sweet spot. the glorious stretch made you realise just how much you were missing out in this two weeks of abstinence, and how hard it must’ve been for peter as well—judging by the way his hips were rocking against the mattress.

“should’ve woken me up sooner—would’ve saved you a whole lotta trouble.” another moan slipped past your lips as peter began to thrust his fingers with more vigour, reaching deeper than you never thought possible while simultaneously maintaining that delicious vibration in his fingertips. the heat that had been building in the pit of your stomach was fuelled with each stroke of his thumb on your on your clit, and within seconds, a mind-numbing pleasure set your entire bloodstream ablaze. as you rode out your orgasm, peter’s other hand slid over yours, lacing your fingers together.

as your breathing finally started to even out, you glanced over at your boyfriend, who was watching you with that soft, starry-eyed look, his teeth catching on his bottom lip. he caught you staring and gave you a small, lopsided smile, reaching over to brush a few stray hairs from your face. “feelin’ better?” you nodded yes, still catching your breath, and leaned forward to press a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, feeling the heat of his erection poke against your abdomen.

when you pulled back, you whispered, “i wanna do something for you, too. with you, to be exact.”

his eyes widened, that hint of pink deepening in his cheeks. for a second, he just stared, looking torn, like he was debating with himself. you could practically see the gears turning in his head, weighing his worry against his own need for you. then peter sighed deeply, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to muster his usual bravado.“okay, fine,” he finally relented, shifting to move on top of you carefully, his hand bracing by your side to avoid putting any pressure on your bandaged torso. “but if i hurt you—or if you start bleeding again—i’m… i’m wrapping you up in so much gauze you won’t be able to move,”

a/n: sorry if this sounded ooc… it’s been a while since i’ve written for peter </3

 fear-is-truth

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Fifteen

Steve’s left bloody smears on the tiles, but the bleeding does seem to have turned a little more sluggish; he’s too frightened now to pull his sock away, he’s pretty sure it’s stuck to the wounds where the blood has started to crust over.

From the floor, Steve manages to reach up for the phone, it rings nearly a dozen times, but Steve persists. He knows Hopper will assume it’s an emergency.

Steve hates doing this, but he definitely can’t drive. Just the thought of making it to the car on his own makes him cringe, and the dull, thudding pain is radiating out to the rest of his foot.

“Hopper.”

“Hop. Sorry. I think I need some help.”

“On my way.”

The doctor frowns at Steve spectacularly, “a raccoon?”

“I know, wild right?”

“So that means he definitely needs a tetanus,” Hopper says unhelpfully from where he’s perched on the other side of the treatment room. He’s got a coffee in a Styrofoam cup and an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

Steve hisses as the doctor uses some saline to loosen the sock, peeling it away from the wound, “I’ll give you something to numb the area, and then it will need some stitches. An x-ray might-”

“Nah,” Steve interjects, “stitch me up, I need to get home.”

The doctor has that look on her face again. From the other side of the room, Hopper sighs, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

Steve can hear El and Eddie from where he’s standing in the kitchen. El’s been teaching him stuff again; today she’s taught him the ABC song. They rush through when they get to the ‘LMNOP’ part, making Steve smile.

“Okay Steve, we’re ready!” El shouts for him from the next room, and Steve goes in.

The furniture's been moved out of the way, Eddie lying on his back in the middle of the room. He’s laying on a white sheet, the long point of his tale stark black against the material. Next to his hip, there’s a pair of legs. They stand perfectly fine on their own, disembodied, rounds of flat pale skin on top, where they end at the thighs.

Eddie looks over smiling, “oh good, you’ve brought it.”

Steve looks down. In his hand he’s holding a saw.

Steve wakes, flailing. He’s gasping for air, trying to orientate himself. Panicking.

He’s sitting. It takes him a few confused seconds, but it all comes flooding back. Fuck, his neck hurts, and his back.

Just a dream he thinks on repeat to himself. Just a dream just a dream just a dream.

His foot. His foot is still up on the coffee table, “Steve, come on, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

“What,” he manages to croak out.

“Here, drink this,” Robin hands him a half glass of tepid water, Steve downs it, “you had a nightmare.”

There’s a towel and a bag of peas draped over Steve’s ankle; trying to cool the area. Keep the swelling down, or whatever. The peas are melted now, the bag sagging in either direction with the weight of the mush inside.

The sight of it makes a sob catch in Steve’s chest, it comes out in a huge shudder, and Steve’s only vaguely worried he’ll never be able to walk the frozen isle in the store again. That he will cry spontaneously every time someone offers him a pear.

“When did you get here?”

“Mom dropped me off, Hopper wanted someone to watch you. He’s going to go check on El.”

Steve’s head feels muzzy. Too much has happened. They didn’t get home until the early hours, and Steve’s blinking in the full light of day that’s streaming into the lounge. “Where is he now?”

“Back yard.”

That takes a second to process, “no.”

Steve pulls his foot down, wobbling as he stands, leaving the towel and peas abandoned, “Steve, hang on.”

The dressing and stitches feel like they’re pulling as Steve takes a few tentative steps, the whole end of his foot feels like it’s burning, Steve moves until he can see Hopper; he can see him from the back, he’s smoking and looking down into the pool.

“Robs, get him away from there, please. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” she says, holding her hands out like she’s dealing with a skittish animal, she goes to the door, opening it and calling, “Hopper, he’s up!”

Hopper comes back in, dropping the end of his cigarette and stamping it out with his boot on his way in, “kid, are you sure he went into the pool?”

The implication of Hopper's question has Steve’s moving before he can really think about it, Robin calling after him that he’s got nothing on his feet, that it’s cold out. Steve ignores her. He has to walk funny, keeping all his weight on his heel on the left foot, but he makes it work. He sees why Hoppers asking; the water of the pool is opaque white.

It looks like the whole thing is filled with milk.

Hopper leaves to go and check on El. Steve’s glad, he did cause Hopper to have to leave her in the middle of the night, and that’s not fair on El, she might be worried.

Steve’s had maybe a couple of hours sleep on the couch, passing out when they got back from hospital. “You don’t have to do that,” he tells Robin; she’s scrubbing at the bloody smears Steve’s left on the kitchen tile.

“It’s fine, and it’s not like you’re in any condition to do it. What the fuck Steve, Hopper said he bit off two toes??”

Steve looks down at where the dressing’s covering his foot, “yeah.” Robin sits back on her haunches, bloody rag in hand, glaring. “He said that...if he eats Demogorgon, then that’s what he becomes. And if he eats Demodog, he becomes one of those so…”

“So you let him eat some of you instead? Because that’s the sane response-”

“I love him, Robs.”

She sighs, “I figured.”

Robin spends most of the day. She talks him into eating some toast; he balks at the thought of soup. Steve takes his pain killers and his antibiotics under Robins close supervision. They have the TV on, and Steve sleeps more.

She tells him to come away when he spends too much time staring out of the window.

Robin has to go that evening; she only does because Steve swears on everything she can think of that he will be fine. He will eat some eggs. He will take his pills. He’s not a complete invalid.

Robin leaves him after what is probably a ten minute hug, and a promise that she will sell Keith on Steve’s 'family emergency.'

The eggs are sitting heavy in Steve’s stomach when he hobbles outside. He managed to get a sock on over his dressing, but couldn’t bare the thought of anything else pressing on his wound, so he goes out like that. Just in socks.

He has a coat on at least, and takes the blanket, knocking snow off a pool lounger and moving it to the edge of the pool so he can sit with his feet up, wrapped in the blanket. The water still hasn’t frozen; but it is darker than it was. It’s turned a sort of pale mucky brown, like someone's mixed some dirt in.

Or chocolate milk.

Steve sits, and he waits, and he cries quietly.

Eventually the cold gets too much, and he heads back inside to try and sleep on the couch.

Steve stares blankly at the unlit Christmas tree, and considers dragging the thing outside and setting fucking fire to it.

He hasn’t cried since he woke up, which is a new current record, and he doesn’t understand where the anger has come from...but he thinks he might prefer it. It’s not fair. Nothing about this is fair, and it fills Steve with a rage he doesn’t think he’s ever experienced before.

Hopper sits opposite Steve, leaning forward, his hands dangling loose between his knees, and Steve knows that this is Hoppers ‘I’m trying to be kind, or sympathetic, or understanding face,’ Steve also knows he’s not going to like whatever is about to come out of Hopper's mouth and he’s already angry about it.

“Kid, I really think we should drain the pool.”

“No.”

Hopper takes a deep breath, “son,” and that one word fills Steve with a rage so complete he feels utterly still. Utterly calm. He’s completely empty, in that moment, except for the rage, “if we don’t, his body will rot into the water, and if you want to be able to bury him? Then-”

“Out.”

“-what?”

“Out,” Steve stands, and he speaks calmly and levelly, “get out of my house. Right now.”

Hopper doesn’t stand, he spreads his hands in a non threatening gesture, “El says she’s can’t feel him, kid, he’s gone-”

“Get the fuck out of my house!” Steve screams at him, suddenly full to brimming, his hears his pounding, breaths sharp, “I said get out!”

Hopper sighs. He looks at Steve with...pity on his face, but he gets up, and he leaves.

The water is so dark now it looks nearly black. Murky and shitty. There are black, choking vines growing up the inside of the tiles; clinging to the sides of the pool. Some of them are long enough to creep up over the edge, like The Upside Down is bleeding into Hawkins again. Steve is reminded viscerally of Barb Holland, and he hates it.

The phone is ringing. Steve ignores it until it stops.

It makes him itchy, ignoring the phone. It’s too ingrained in him that something could be wrong. It’s an emergency. The kids might need him.

It starts ringing again; Steve answers it this time, but only as a preventative measure. If he doesn’t answer it, whoever it is might show up, and Steve would really rather not right now.

“Hey, Steve.” Robs is uncharacteristically quiet. Reserved. “So...it’s Christmas tomorrow and, I know you said you didn’t want to come for the day but...what about in the evening? Just for a little bit?” She asks, hopefully. “Mom says we can save you some leftovers, you know.”

“Yeah...yeah, that’s really kind and everything Rob...” Steve trails off scrubbing at his face. He’s got a fair bit of stubble going on, and he only showered this morning because even he could pick up on the fact that he stank.

She sighs quietly, “have you been eating? Taking your meds?”

“I...yeah. Some. And finished the antibiotics.”

“Good. That’s good. You want me to come over then?”

“Uhm. No. No that’s fine you, you should have a nice Christmas with your family, okay? We can talk after.”

“Steve…”

“I know, Robs, I know, but I’ll be fine,” Steve tells her with a confidence he doesn’t feel.

“Okay, well, I’ll call tomorrow. Love you, Dingus.”

“Love you too Birdie.”

There are thick black vines growing up the legs of Steve’s pool chair; he ignores them. He climbs into position, wrapping himself in his blanket. He has a beer, his pills are finished now, so he can’t see the harm.

“I had a shower Eds, sure you’re pleased to hear that. Took the dressing off my foot, and it looks fine, you didn’t hurt me, not really.” Steve tacks on, “not ow,” out of habit.

Steve sips his beer, pulling the blanket tighter around his legs, and not thinking about Eddie's tail doing the same, “I’m supposed to have an appointment to get the stitches out, but it’s not until like the twenty seventh, or something, you know, everything being shut for Christmas. Which is tomorrow, by the way.”

Steve sighs, “anyway, I probably won’t go, it really doesn’t look so bad now, I think I could get them out with nail scissors and some tweezers, so I might just do that.”

Steve sips his beer, watching the laden pale clouds scud along overhead, “I think it might snow again, that’d be nice, right? White Christmas and all that stuff.”

Steve sighs again, and quietly admits, “I think you would have really liked Christmas. You get like, gifts and stuff-”

There’s a frantic splash in the pool, Steve’s up as quick as he can, fighting with his blanket, his beer bottle falling, forgotten, and rolling away on the tiles, getting caught on a vine.

Steve’s flooded with adrenaline, heart beating so fast, he doesn't register the chill as he scrambles up, stepping to the edge of the pool.

Eddie’s on the steps, he’s covered in so much slime and shit from the pool it's hard to see him, but Steve doesn’t care how dirty it is, he’s knee deep and helping to haul Eddie out the rest of the way.

He has no hair; but he does have legs, and he takes a stumbled step with Steve before collapsing to the ground. He can’t breathe, he’s bent over, on his hands and knees, choking. Steve’s lifeguard first aid training kicks in before he can really think about it; fueled by adrenaline, he braces Eddie with an arm about his middle, then using the palm of his hand he delivers one hard upward blow between Eddie’s shoulder blades.

Eddie splutters, but there’s nothing, so Steve does it again. Suddenly, like a seal has been broken, Eddie coughs up what might be nearly a pint of fluid, yellow and green and streaked with pink blood, it splatters loudly on the ground.

Eddie drags in a huge breath; it might be the most beautiful sound Steve’s ever heard.

They collapse down again, Eddie shivering like crazy, his teeth chattering; Steve grabs his blanket, covering Eddie. He’s naked and covered in gross shit, completely hairless, and has long gangly legs. Steve doesn’t pay attention to any of it really. Just Eddie. Eddie’s here.

He smells fucking awful, but Steve doesn’t care, Steve bundles him up and pulls him close, “Eddie, are you okay?”

Eddie blinks, his eyes crusted with gack from the pool, pink and puffy and sore looking around the lids, the whites bloodshot to fuck, his voice a raspy mess, the words broken by how violently his teeth are chattering, “Eddidie good bad.”

Steve bursts into tears.

Part Seventeen

[oofmybad]

Reader is an extra in the Guess music video and doesn’t tell Billie. When Billie sees her on set, she’s both horny and jealous as she watches reader dance and grind on another woman while in a tiny mini skirt and bralette.

I think she’s with it

hi lovey! thank you for the request, this one was so so fun to write :)

warnings: billiexfem!reader, fluff, slightly suggestive towards the end

~~~~~~~~

stood in front of the vanity mirrow in the bathroom, you take a bunch of selfies with billie’s twin, aidan.

“you actually look like my girl, it’s a little scary” you tell him as you both scroll through the photos you just took, “i’m gonna post one of these, is that cool?”

“nah, man! i haven’t told billie that you’re here yet” aidan stops you by putting his hand over the screen of your phone.

“oh shit, okay.”

“i wanna get you to do some fuck shit on set while we’re filming, surprise her that way” aidan explains his plan.

“fuck shit? like what?” you question.

“well the whole set is gonna be really horny and sweaty, so maybe we’ll get you dancing on someone. are you cool with that?”

“yeah, of course! she’s gonna hate it” you giggle mischeviously.

***

extras, mostly just a bunch of you and charli’s mutual friends, spill into the room. the humidifier begins to works it’s magic, causing droplets of dew to emerge on everyones skin. that, combined with the hours you spent in hair and makeup, has got you looking exactly how aidan envisioned: really, really sweaty.

you had changed into your outfit before hair and makeup - with some help of the girls you decided on a tiny true religion denim mini skirt and a white lacy bralette, your nipple piercings peeking through when the light hits just right. in typical you fashion, you completed the 2000’s grunge look with a whale tail, showing off your tramp stamp.

aidan walks up to you lot, explaining the premise of the video and what he expects of y’all.

“y/n, if you could pair up with tara, that would be great” he encourages you two to dance with eachother. before the next take, you two make small talk, having already met a few times through claudia.

suddenly, guess begins to blare through the speakers of the set. the bass is amplified so the fog in the air reverbarates with every beat. the atmosphere transports you to a late night party with your girlfriends. immediately, you and tara begin to dance together.

as the verse progresses, tara puts her hands on your waist - coaxing your body towards hers. your legs interlock and the two of you begin to grind into each other. after a moment or so, you turn around and begin to push your ass into her hips, swaying your own as you do so.

you turn your head around, and caress tara’s head with your hand, feeling her hands travel to your lower belly.

the song comes to an end, and aidan yells out, “cut!”

you and tara seperate, giggling with each other, “i feel like we’ve gotten real close today” you joke with her.

“i’m not sure i’ll make it out alive” tara mumbles through a laugh.

“how do you mean?” you ask her, confused to what she’s refferring to.

“billie has been staring daggers at me the whole time. she looks pissed” tara lifts her hand to point you in her direction.

you follow the direction her hand is pointing in and catch eyes with billie. she practically has steam coming out of her ears. you roll your eyes with a laugh as you turn back to tara.

“don’t worry about her, she’ll get over it. you’re only doing your job” you reassure her.

placing a hand on tara’s shoulder in comfort, “lemme go talk her down. hold on” you tell her.

walking over to billie, as she’s sat in a chair off the side of the set, you greet her.

“hi, baby” you coo.

“hey” billie says. she gives you a small, forced smile that hasn’t quite reached her eyes.

“you ok?” you ask her, going to sit on her lap.

“i don’t like the way she’s touching you” billie mumbles.

“baby, come on. she’s only doing what aidan asked her to do” you try to reason with her.

“ok, well then i have a problem with aidan” billie huffs, pouting like a five year old.

“no you don’t. you’re just being silly” you say, fidgeting in billie’s lap, trying to exude a ‘happy-go-lucky’ attitude to get billie out of her’s.

suddenly, her fingers sharply dig into your hip - where your thong meets your skirt - “stop moving around” billie commands.

your body tenses briefly from the firm touch, but relaxes again once you realize what’s going on. “why, bil?” you ask her, teasing in your voice.

she simply shoots you a death stare - if looks could kill…

“take two, everybody!” you hear the director call out into the room.

“bye, baby” you peck billie’s cheek before jumping off her lap and walking off. “oh, and…” you turn your head to glare at billie as you yell back to her, “chill out!”

you join tara once again in the corner of the set, “she should be good now” you tell her, “sorry ‘bout that”.

“it’s all good, queen. it’s kinda sweet” tara sympathizes.

“yeah, it’s sweet until you have to deal with the consequences” you laugh with her. tara cackles at your innuendo.

soon enough, the music is playing again, and you and tara are repeating your earlier actions. this time, you two turn up the heat; with your back to her front, tara begins to caress your chest as grind on her. you let your head lull back onto her shoulder, feeling the music in your body.

this continues for a few more takes until y’all have a food break while they change the set for charli and billie’s solo shots.

you crane your head around like a meerkat looking for billie but unable to find her, you decide to look elsewhere. maybe she’s in her dressing room getting ready?

you walk down a hallway to her room and open the door to reveal billie sat on the couch, her body leant forward with her head in her left hand, her elbow leaning on her wide-spread legs, as she scrolls on her phone with her right hand.

“hey, sexy” you greet her but she doesn’t look up.

“…what’s wrong?” you question her when she doesn’t reply and sit next to her on the couch.

“nothing, mama. just needed a break” billie quitely says as she chucks her phone to the other side of the couch, finally making eye contact with you.

“a break from what, bil?” you ask her, moving down to your knees and perching in between billie’s legs.

“from watching another girl all over MY girl” billie huffs angrily. but her gentle fingers contradict her fiery demeanour by softly caressing your cheek.

“i thought we talked about it, already?” you pout.

“we did” billie says curtly.

“so what’s the problem then?”

“i just miss my baby” billie says, her tone shifting. her hand, once on your cheek, slips down to your chin to roughly pull your face towards hers.

you let out a quiet gasp at her actions, before letting out a small chuckle. “wait… are you horny, bil?” you ask her, almost making fun of this discovery.

billie says nothing but wordlessly leans in to kiss you. you quickly pull back with an amused smile, unable to ignore the fact that anyone could walk in at any second.

“later baby” you try to coax billie off of you to no avail. her grip on you just gets stronger and soon she’s pulling you up to be straddling her lap.

“you can’t expect me not to want you when you’re waring that slutty little skirt with your ass hanging out” billie mumbles into your neck as she leaves open mouthed kisses on your collar bone.

“bil” you moan her name. half telling her to stop, half telling her to go on.

“what, mama?” billie pulls back to look at you.

“please” you simply whimper.

“please what?” billie questions again, a mischevious smirk adorning her lips.

before you get a chance to answer her, someone knocks on the door and calls out, “billie, you’re on!”.

“i’m not done with you yet” billie whispers, “you’re paying for your behavior tonight.” she throws you off of her body, leaving you gobsmacked and lightly panting on the couch as she walks back to set.

“you fucker!” you call out behind her.

“you wish!” billie laughs down the hall.

[tqlepatia]

─ Headcanons young ambessa

Certified big spoon

Ambessa was always the big spoon, no negotiations. She loved wrapping herself around you, making you feel safe and snug. It wasn’t just a comfort thing; it was her way of saying, “I’ve got you, don’t worry about a thing.” If you ever tried to switch it up and be the big spoon? She’d just laugh and drag you right back into her arms like, “Nah, nice try, but this is my job.”

Cigarette Hater with her soul

Smoking? no. She hated the smell with a burning passion. If someone lit up near her, she’d literally wave the smoke away and hit them with a “Do you have to do that right now?” If you smoked, she’d pull some petty drama like refusing to kiss you until you brushed your teeth or popped a mint. “Kiss me when you don’t smell like an ashtray, babe.”

if mess w/you, is messing with her

She was ride or die for the people she cared about. If someone even looked at you funny or the wrong way, Ambessa was already cracking her knuckles, ready to throw hands. She wouldn’t always make a scene (unless it was deserved), but trust, she’d have a very direct convo with anyone who crossed the line. Messing with her loved ones = bad life choice.

Morning mushball

She acted all tough, but mornings were her soft hours. She’d stay in bed, groaning about “five more minutes” while pulling you into a bear hug. Honestly, it was the only time you’d catch her all cuddly and vulnerable without her usual walls up. Nights? Whole different story—she’d be all business and focus, but you could still sneak in and bug her for affection if you were bold.

Lowkey Sentimental

Ambessa had a secret stash of sentimental stuff she’d never admit to keeping. That random flower you gave her one time? Pressed in a book. A doodle you left on her notes? Saved. She wasn’t gonna talk about it, but if you ever found the stash, she’d play it off like, “What? It’s nothing. Don’t make it weird.”

Goofy, but only in private

Around other people, she was all stoic and intimidating, but when it was just you? Full clown behavior. She loved teasing you, throwing sarcastic one-liners, or doing dumb stuff like dramatically mimicking your expressions just to make you laugh. Catch her laughing at her own jokes? All bets are off.

Stubborn af

If Ambessa thought she was right about something, good luck changing her mind. She’d dig her heels in and argue for hours. The only way to win? Either outsmart her with some clever logic or just kiss her mid-rant. She’d roll her eyes and be like, “Fine, you win—for now.”

Thrived on chaos

She had this wild side where she’d do things just for the adrenaline rush. Climbing something dangerous? Breaking a rule just because she could? All in a day’s work. If you hesitated, she’d smirk and say, “What’s life without a little chaos, babe?” Then drag you into whatever nonsense she had planned.

Affection

Once Ambessa decided you were her person, that was it. She’d back you up no matter what and stand by you through thick and thin. But if you betrayed her? Game over. She wasn’t about giving second chances easily—she’d cut you off so fast your head would spin.

Loyal to the bone

Young Ambessa was basically a mix of “don’t mess with me” energy and “I’ll secretly spoil the people I love.” She’d act tough, but if you were lucky enough to get close, you’d see that big ol’ heart under all the sharp edges.

[lily221118]

•⭐• Sevika x Younger, mean, femme girlfriend.

part 2 -> part 1

So the next night, you’re walking into the pub, looking very different from what all these guys are used to seeing you in. Everyone around here sees you in the bland clothes you bartend in so seeing you dolled up is like a treat for the whole place. You’ve put on something sexier than usual. Nothing too scandalous, but you’d at least taken this opportunity to show off. Your hair is flowing and your makeup is done and you’re feeling fantastic, you’re feeling especially fantastic when you see sevika catch sight of you and let her eyes trail over your whole body, her eyes blown wide as if you can’t see her. When you reach her in a booth (Not at the bar, you notice), you slide in opposite her and grin. “Hey.”

Her eyes drop once more to catch any piece of skin she can behind the table, “Who’re you trying to impress?”

You roll your eyes at her and she comments on it before you can respond with something snarky, “Someday you’ll go blind, the way you’re always rolling your eyes.” 

This gets your eyes rolling again, “Don’t give me any reason to roll my eyes and I’ll be fine.”

She laughs at this with a dismissive shake of her head, you lean back against the booth seat, “Get me a drink, would you?”

She raises an eyebrow, the laugh lingering on her lips, “Bossy tonight.”, she states like it's obvious. Which it is.”I’m always bossy. Go.” I nod in the direction of the bar. She begins to stand up and looks back down at you. “What do girls like you even drink?”

“What do you mean girls like me?”

She gestures towards the length of your body, obviously referring to the way you present yourself, “You know, like, pretty… girly.” You give her a smirk and bring your hand to your hair to brush through it, “You think I’m pretty?” When she only shakes her head with another laugh rather than answering, you move on. “Just get me whatever you think suits me.”

She comes back 5 minutes later with her signature glass of whiskey and a purple drink with salt around the rim, setting it in front of you with a grunt. Working in this pub, you know this drink, it's probably the closest available thing to a cocktail with the limited resources of the undercity. 

“Aw, did you get me this because it's pretty and I'm pretty.”

“No. It’s got salt on it. You said to get something that suited you.”

The look on your face is one of fake offense and it makes her laugh again as she takes a sip from her own glass. You do the same and lick some salt off the edge before setting it back down. That catches her attention. 

“What made you ask me out for a drink?” You ask her straight up.

“I suppose you’ve become more tolerable over time, and-”

“You haven’t.” You interrupt her and it makes her smile in amusement, “You and that smart mouth. One day you’ll say the wrong thing to the wrong person. You gotta be careful with an attitude like that down here.”

You lean over the table, tilting your head and resting it on your hands, forcing an air of innocence, “Oh but you’d protect me, wouldn’t you?” You bat your eyelashes to really seal the deal.

“As if you’d let me.”

The night goes on, the drinks go down with ease, and the conversation flows. Sevika’s been invited to a round of cards and you tell her you don’t mind losing her attention for a while. Though, that is actually an absolute lie. So you’re sitting next to her at the table, surrounded by a huddle of men. Sevika’s got a hand of cards, who knows if they're good or bad and she’s playing with such precision and ease that you can’t help but feel impressed.

“You wanna join the next round?” She asks you casually after her turn. You shake your head in response, “I’m okay just watching.”

That’s when one of the men pipes up, some buff guy with copious amounts of facial hair, probably the result of regular shimmer use. Or just really unstable hormones. “Nah, she knows her place, sitting there and looking pretty like some lap dog.” 

A few of the other guys laugh along, one slapping him on the back in agreement. Your eyebrows furrow in defense and you begin to speak but Sevika gets out of her seat abruptly and it stops you in your tracks. You look up at her in confusion and you hear the gears in her arm warming up.

“You wanna repeat that?” She spits out in a deep voice. The guys instinctually withdraw, obviously taken aback. You grab her wrist, “Sevika, sit down”, and attempt to pull her back into her seat. She looks down at you, annoyed, and splutters, “but- th-” And motions towards the guys.

 “Sit down.” You repeat, authority in your voice. And she actually does. She slumps back into her seat with a huff and the same gnarly guy chuckles. “What, you got this little lass given you orders now, eh boss?” 

Sevika almost jolts out of her seat again but you shoot her a stern look before returning your attention to this goon.

“You wanna start? I pour your drinks every night and unless you wanna know what my spit tastes like, you should shut that busted mouth.”

He stares at you, completely unsure of what to say and in the corner of your eye, you see a smirk on Sevika’s face. The guy grumbles but backs off, along with his friends who continue to scowl but don’t say anything else. They all look back to their cards and you feel Sevika rustle beside you and then a breath on your ear, “Anyone ever told you how hot you are when you’re mean?” 

The sensation of her breath on your skin along with her words sends a shooting thrill straight to your stomach and you have to cross your legs to compose yourself before your words are able to come out clear. “A couple times.” You suck on your lip as the edges of your closed mouth flick up and she licks her lips as she adjusts her position to refocus on the game, obviously pleased with your reaction. 

[sleepyjuice]

protective jj protextiive jj protecitice jj ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

yup yup yup say no more ‼️

one thing about jj is that when he loved someone, he was also fully committed to protecting them at all costs. his circle was small, so when he cared about someone, he would do everything in his power to keep them safe.

but with you, he fully knew he would die before letting anything happen to you. and it sure was a task having a beautiful girlfriend, because to strangers eyes, you were just a pretty face and a pretty body, and that was just a blessing and a curse to jj.

keggers always brought out the creeps, and jj’s blood pressure was always just a bit high every time the two of you went. he would still enjoy himself, but he didn’t miss the way guys would stare at you, eyeing your body as if you were just anyones to have. you weren’t naive about it, you knew people stared, but as long as no one tried to touch you or talk to you, you didn’t let it bother you.

but of course, you didn’t live in a perfect world so trouble was bound to find you every now and then. you had a few drinks and you were feeling good. you had spent the day with jj and this was a great way to end the night together.

“yo jj, I can’t get this keg to tap, can you help me real quick?” john b approached you and jj, gently squeezing the blonde boy’s shoulder.

“yeah I got you,” jj answered, turning to you once he spoke, “c’mon, let’s go baby.” he nudged your waist, nodding towards the direction of where john b had ventured back off to.

you shook your head, “nah it’s okay, kie’s gonna be here any minute and I told her I would wait for her here. you go, I’ll be okay.” you assured him with a smile, not missing the hesitation clear on his face. he didn’t want to leave you alone, but he also didn’t want to make you feel like you couldn’t be independent and handle yourself alone for a minute.

he inhaled sharply before responding, “alright, alright, yeah. I’ll be right back.” he told you, giving you a quick kiss before going off to help john b. you took another sip from your cup, pulling out your phone to check if kiara had texted you.

“no way a pretty girl like you is here by herself.” a man’s voice startled you as you looked up from your phone, a touron, presumably had wasted no time invading your space as soon as you were alone, great.

“yeah, no, I’m not. but I’m not interested. so thanks but no thanks.” you told the man, looking back at your phone, hoping that for once, a man could have the ability to read the room.

“jesus, entitled aren’t you? can’t even let me say more than one sentence to you before being a bitch?” the man snapped, his ego obviously bruised. you did feel a little nervous now, uncomfortable with how quick his demeanor had shifted. instead of responding, you turned to walk away but were stopped when his hand grabbed your shoulder harshly, yanking you around to face him again.

he had opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by a fist to his jaw, and you jumped back in surprise at the sudden violence unfolding before you. you weren’t shocked to see that it was jj who had punched him and you set your cup down as jj kept going at him, reaching from behind your boyfriend to grab onto the fabric of his tank top, trying to pull him off of the guy.

“you think you can just touch girls, bro? when her back is turned to you?” he spat, tensing when he felt someone touch his shirt, glancing back for a moment to see that it was you.

“jj stop, stop, it’s not worth it, please.” you pleaded with him to stop, grateful that he had stepped in to help, but it wasn’t worth him getting potentially hurt over or in trouble.

“you’re a fragile ass bitch, dude. fuckin- apologize to my girl and then fuck off. I’m so serious right now.” jj eventually stopped his punches, but kept a grip on the guys shirt as he forced him to face you. he was indeed a bitch, because he barely muttered out a little ‘I’m sorry’ before stumbling back and hurrying away from the two of you.

“jesus, I leave ya alone for not even two minutes and these douchebags think they can try some shit,” jj rubbed at his now bleeding knuckles before pulling you into his chest, his hands rubbing at your sides, “you okay, pretty girl? you’re not hurt are ya?” you shook your head in response, relaxing into his touch. you hated when he had to resort to violence, but you did understand it in this situation. you were just proud of him for not losing control this time.

“I’m okay, thank you for saving me. that was lowkey hot as fuck.”

(not me getting carried away ummmm oops thank you anon <3)

[rafes-slut]

Irresistible

Summary: rafe cameron for first time spots you in the crowd. Thinking he is winning you over but your boyfriend ruins plans

Pairing: Cocky rafe cameron x reader

Warnings: cocky rafe, flirting

----

The party was packed. The kind where bodies pressed together in a haze of sweat, alcohol, and bass-heavy music, drowning out any coherent conversation. It was exactly the type of scene Rafe Cameron thrived in—except tonight, nothing held his attention. Not the bottle of beer in his hand, not the familiar faces trying to pull him into some half-assed conversation.

And then he saw you.

It was almost too cliché—how his eyes found you in the crowd like some kind of gravitational force had yanked him in your direction. But he didn’t care. You were laughing, head tilted back slightly, your eyes shining under the dim, shifting lights. Everything about you was effortless, and it was enough to make Rafe forget whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing.

You weren’t trying to get attention. You already had it.

And now you had his.

Rafe didn’t think twice. He never did. His feet carried him toward you before his brain could catch up, pushing past clusters of people until he was close enough to catch the faint scent of whatever perfume you were wearing. Close enough to notice the way your lips curved slightly at the sight of him.

Hook, line, and sinker.

“Let me guess,” Rafe started, his signature smirk already in place. “You just got here. Because there’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed you before now.”

Your eyes flickered to his, clearly amused. “That was smooth. Is that your go-to line?”

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Nah, you just bring out my best work.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t walk away. If anything, you leaned in slightly, and Rafe took that as an invitation. He reached for the drink in your hand—without asking—bringing it to his lips before taking a slow sip, his gaze locked onto yours the entire time.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re that guy?”

“What guy?” he asked, still holding your drink hostage.

“The one who takes girls’ drinks without asking. Do you steal hearts the same way?”

Rafe grinned. “I don’t have to steal them. They usually just hand them over.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head like you couldn’t believe his audacity. But you still let him keep the drink.

“Cocky,” you mused. “I’ll give you that.”

He leaned in, just enough to make it feel like the two of you were in your own little world. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You studied him for a moment, tilting your head slightly like you were sizing him up. “You don’t take rejection well, do you?”

“Wouldn’t know,” Rafe shot back smoothly. “Never had to deal with it.”

You let out a small hum, like you were considering whether or not you wanted to challenge that. He could see the flicker of amusement in your eyes, the way you let him have his fun without fully giving in. It only made him want you more.

“Let me guess something about you now,” he continued, stepping even closer. “You like the chase.”

You exhaled a small laugh. “What makes you think that?”

“Because if you didn’t, you would’ve walked away already.”

You tapped a finger against your chin, pretending to think. “Or maybe I just find you entertaining.”

Rafe smirked. “That’s just a nice way of saying you like me.”

“You’re really full of yourself, huh?”

“Only when I’m right.”

Your lips parted slightly, like you had a quick-witted response ready, but before you could say anything, someone behind you called your name.

Rafe barely noticed them. He was too busy watching your expression shift slightly, like you’d just remembered something important.

You glanced back at him, your smile never faltering. “This was fun,” you said lightly. “But I should probably get back to my boyfriend.”

Rafe’s smirk froze.

His grip on your drink tightened slightly before he quickly placed it back in your hand, his expression unreadable.

“What?” he said, blinking as if he hadn’t heard you right.

You patted his chest lightly, your fingers lingering for just a second before pulling away. “Don’t look so surprised, Rafe. You didn’t really think it’d be that easy, did you?”

And just like that, you were gone.

Rafe stood there for a moment, watching as you disappeared into the crowd like some kind of fever dream. His jaw clenched, his ego bruised, but instead of frustration, all he felt was intrigue.

Oh, this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning

Trigger Warning: Homophobic Insult ('lesbo' used as an insult) / Virginity-shaming / Transcript / AN under the cut

Record player plays Donna Summer's Try Me, I Know We Can Make It - On The Radio: Greatest Hits Volumes I & II /

AN: I made a personal edit of this Playboy magazine stack for the magazine used in this scene.

Transcript:

[Just like that, Vanessa had become the brightest star in my universe]

[She was warm, vibrant and intense, like the sun.]

[and I was a withered sunflower]

[like a sunflower, I craved the feel of her heat on my skin]

[I’d turn to face her in any direction]

[ and I bloomed when she looked at me]

[If only her gaze was mine alone to keep]

[jovial chatter]

[Vanessa squeals]

Nina: Gee, save some boys for the rest of us, right Nance?

Dina: Where did you get nudie mags from, VV?!

Vanessa: Hush! Don’t get us caught, dumb-dumb. I have my ways. Look, check this out.

Nina: [whistles] Meeoow. Where’s the beef.

Vanessa: Yeah, where is the beef? Kinda small...

Dina: That’s small? What are you, a fucking cavern? He’s packing!

Vanessa: [cackling] Ha! No way! This is big? I knew Don was a shrimp boy!

Dina: You did NOT just say that! Don is not a shrimp boy! Stop laughing!

Nina: Sometimes the bush makes it look smaller, right VV?

Vanessa: Nancy, get over here! What do you think? Packin‘ or lackin’?

Nancy: O-oh..um...I don’t know. I’ve never really seen one before.

Dina: Oh, brother. We got a cherry girl over here.

Nina: [snorts] No wonder she’s so stiff. Anyway, next page, VV.

Vanessa: Hmm. Nah. Think I’ll keep them all to myself. Come on, Nancy.

Dina: [scoffs] There she goes, picking her side again. She’s not a baby, VV! We were just joking!

[Still, at the end of the day, she chose me over all of them]

Record player plays Donna Summer's On The Radio: Greatest Hits Volumes I & II

I just wanna feel your body close to mine I just wanna share your loving, baby All the time, ooh Oh try me, try me, try me, try me just one time

Nina: God forbid I want to actually study tonight.

Vanessa: Go study in Nancy’s room!

Nina: What the fuck! This is my room too!

Vanessa: And I’m hanging out with Nancy before lights out.

Nina: You don’t own this school! I can be in my own damn room. Tell Nancy to leave!

Vanessa: I do, actually and I don’t want her to leave.

Nancy: I-I’ll just go-

Vanessa: No, Nina can go to her sister’s room if she wants peace and quiet. I’m sure she’s not in there. We all know she sneaks over to Don’s to blow his little shrimp.

Nina: Oh, whatever! You two can be gross lesbos all you want.

Vanessa: Yeah, the only lesbo in here is you!

[door slam]

Nancy: ...I feel like Dina and Nina hates me.

Vanessa: Screw them. They’re just jealous.The only reason they can afford to go here is because my father gave their father a job. Come on, I want to do your makeup.

Vanessa: Why do let them talk shit to you? I feel like if you really wanted to, you could put them in their place.

Nancy: I just want to do my time so I can get out of here. I don’t want trouble.

Vanessa: [hums] You make this place sound like a prison.

Nancy: No, not just here. I mean...from everything. From my parents. From my life. I guess I’m just scared if I go too far...I’d end up like my brother.

Vanessa: Hey. You’re going to go far and you’re going to be great. And if you still want to be my friend when we’re old, then we can laugh at all the miserable losers who wanted to see us fail from our million dollar yacht.

Nancy: I’ll always want to be your friend, Vanessa.

Vanessa: [squeals] You’re sooo stinkin’ cute, Nance!

Nancy: [giggles]

[soft snoring]

[riordanness]

slow motion, double vision - [w.scobell]

wordcount: 0.8K

warnings: self harm (reader)

requested: yes!

a/n: please do not read this if you struggle with self harm and won’t feel comfortable reading about it (it’s not described at all and reader doesn’t do it in this but it’s said that she has and a brief description of her wrist is also in this. don’t read this if you aren’t going to cope with that. and if you are struggling w self harm, reach out to me, please!! <3)

Another day on the Percy Jackson set. Today, we are filming a scene between Percy and Annabeth, an argument.

Walker gives me a grin once he’s finished up with the makeup crew. “Hey, you,” he says with an easy smile.

I try to replicate it. Walker has this gift. He’s so good at it. At everything. Life, acting, smiling.

All the things I struggle with.

“Hey,” I say back. “Looking good.”

“Says you.” He gives me an appreciative look. “My girlfriend looks adorable.”

I immediately get flustered. No matter how many days I’m dating Walker for, I think him calling me his girlfriend will always make me flutter inside.

“I'm not your girlfriend anymore,” I joke. “I’m Annabeth Chase, Seaweed Brain.”

He grins. “See you out there.”

As soon as he’s gone, my heart sinks again. It’s like he’s the only thing in the world that brings any kind of light to my darkness. The only smile on my sad face. The only sweet words I can say.

“The chair is the bargain,” Walker, as Percy, says. “One of us goes in, the other gets the shield.”

“I’ll do it,” I say, stepping forward, a determined look on my face.

“What? What a minute!” Walker reaches over and grabs my wrist. A flicker of pain crosses my features, but quick as lighting, I go back into character, hoping he didn’t notice.

“Whoever goes in isn’t coming out!” I say, my voice rising a little at the end.

“I know, that’s why I said wait.”

“This isn’t the arch, Seaweed Brain,” I snap in response.

“Cut!” someone yells, and I instantly break character, as does Walker.

The directing team is talking amongst themselves, which is usually a sign for us to just chat and wait for them to be ready to film again.

“Hey,” Walker comes close to me, his voice quiet. “Are you okay?”

I look at him, feigning a frown. “Course I’m okay. Why?”

He looks concerned, his blue eyes staring deep into mine. “You flinched just now. When I grabbed you.”

“Oh,” I laugh, which comes out so brittle I almost wince. “Nah, it’s all good. Just acting.” I’m brushing him off, and he knows that.

“I’m gonna grab a drink,” I tell him, and disappear before he can argue with me about it.

He finds me in the bathrooms. I’m standing over a sink, gripping the sides like a dramatic Draco Malfoy-wannabe. I have tears in my eyes, but the second I hear someone behind me, I brush them away.

“Y/n?” Walker asks quietly. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

I can’t answer, his sweet words just making me want to cry harder. I can only shake my head.

He buries me in a hug, his chin on top of my head, and his arms encircling me tightly. “Love,” he says again, speaking softly into my hair, “tell me what’s wrong.”

“Walker, I—“ I cannot bring myself to say the words, so I pull back from the hug, and pull up the sleeve of my Annabeth jacket. Across the inside of my left wrist are stripes of harsh red, jagged and fresh.

Walker’s eyes shatter, a million emotions and words and thoughts all inside their clear blue at once. His mouth opens a little.

“Y/n—“

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I’m so so sorry.”

He immediately folds me back into his arms. “You have no reason to be sorry,” he says roughly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry you feel this awful about yourself. I’m so sorry you felt like you had no other choice. But please—“ I can tell by his voice that he’s upset. Somehow, that makes me feel even worse.

“Please come talk to me before you do something like that,” he whispers.

“Okay,” I manage.

“Do you promise?” he asks, his voice ragged.

“I promise on the River Styx.”

I feel his smile through my hair. “I love you.”

I smile too, his warmth and love spreading through me like an antidote. “I love you too, Walk.”

He pulls away from the hug, his fingertips brushing the broken skin of my wrist as lightly as he can. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s get this cleaned and dressed properly, okay?”

I let him take me by the hand, and for the first time in my life, I feel completely and totally safe and understood.

With him.

[misc-obeyme]

prompt: Mammon

a/n: I know, I'm late. I had... a lot going on yesterday. So you get Mammon late. I was going to do Levi today too but I can't find the notes I wrote for his anywhere. So you'll get Levi at some point, maybe tomorrow? I dunno, I might just be a day late forever now, too lol. Anyway, I'm sorry for the low quality of this, like I said there were extenuating circumstances. @om-adventcalendar

Mammon x GN!MC

Warnings: more fluff~

It was the end of a lovely night out, courtesy of Mammon winning big at the casino for once. He insisted on spending it all on a date and who were you to refuse him?

You followed him out into the parking lot after finishing a delicious meal at Ristorante Six. When you reached his Demonio, Mammon put a hand in his pocket for his keys. You watched him as he frowned and checked the other pocket. Then he looked at you in confusion as he began patting down the pockets of his jacket, clearly checking for keys that he couldn't find.

Finally, he peered into the driver's side window, his hands on either side of his face to block any glare.

"Let me guess," you said, after watching this play out. "The keys are locked inside?"

Mammon pulled his head away and looked at you forlornly. You pressed your shoulder against his so you could put your face where his had been between his hands. Sure enough, the keys sat alone and discarded on the driver's seat.

"How did you lock the car without the keys?" you asked.

"This car is top of the line, MC," Mammon said. "It locks automatically."

You moved away from the car and saw Mammon rubbing at his face beneath his sunglasses for a moment. When he looked at you again, it was with the most defeated expression you had ever seen. It was so cute, you couldn't help but laugh.

“Oi!” he protested immediately. “It ain’t funny!”

You tried to suppress your laughter, but it it was difficult. "Don't you have a spare key somewhere?"

"Nah, this is the only key," Mammon said, folding his arms and pouting at your poorly concealed amusement.

You laughed again and took his arm. "Come on, don't look like that. You have to admit it's a little funny."

“I don’t gotta admit anythin’,” he grumbled.

You pulled out your D.D.D. "All right, let's call a locksmith."

Mammon didn’t say anything as you found a number for a locksmith and called. You gave them your location and told them your predicament. You had to wait only a short time before the demon showed up.

The demon gave Mammon a slight bow, clearly recognizing him as the Avatar of Greed.

Then he saw you and smirked. “This human causing you problems, huh?” he asked. “Coulda told you humans are dumb.”

The air around Mammon began to crackle, making you suck in a breath. He took a few steps, getting real close to the demon. He looked him dead in the eyes and said, "I'm the one who locked the keys in the car. Are ya callin' me dumb?"

The demon back pedaled immediately. “N-no, of course not!”

“Good,” Mammon said. “Now apologize to my human.”

The demon looked like he was about to shit himself. “S-sorry,” he stuttered in your direction, unable to meet your eyes.

Mammon backed off, returning to your side. He grinned and it was a little bit unhinged. “Now can ya unlock the door or not?”

The demon quickly unlocked the door, handing Mammon the keys and insisting there was no charge for the service. He got into his own vehicle and drove off so fast you thought he might take flight.

You turned to Mammon. “Was that really necessary? You scared that guy half to death.”

Mammon grinned at you, escorting you to the passenger side and opening the door for you. “Nobody insults my human.”

You rolled your eyes, but got into the car. Mammon closed your door then went around and got into the driver’s seat. He leaned over the center console toward you. “Ain’t it my duty to defend your honor?”

You snorted. “Pretty sure I’m the one defending your honor all the time. But I’ll let you see how it feels, just this once.”

You met him over the console with a gentle kiss, teasing his bottom lip with your tongue before pulling away.

Mammon's eyes were glazed over for a moment before he cleared his throat and started the car. You noted how he took the quickest way back to the House of Lamentation with almost no regard for speed limits. He parked the Demonio in its usual spot in his room, but it was a long time before either of you got out.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[min-imum]

hello, can i ask to write mingyu!fireman? This came to my imagination and how his muscular body would look beautiful with the uniform.

I appreciate it if you do, and have a great day 🫂💕

i’ve been dying to write this but every time i try start my motivation fizzles out. anyway…

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: gn!reader, the smallest possible mention of blood, shower sex?, oral sex (m. receiving), i think that’s it possibly hopefully

you grip your phone tightly, panic setting in. mingyu hasn’t replied to any of your messages or calls, not since he left in the middle of the night to tend to an emergency — it’s the morning now, it’s been hours, and you’re not seeing a single blue tick.

“come on, pick up,” you mutter, hitting the call button again. it rings for a minute, and then you hear the robotic female voice — the number you’re trying to contact is not responding, try again later — and worry bubbles in your chest.

it’s completely unlike mingyu to be ignoring your calls. what if something happened to him? what if—

you’re choking back a sob when your doorknob jiggles, and you spin around to see your boyfriend standing in the doorway.

he’s covered in soot and blood.

“oh god,” you gasp, running to him. “are you okay? what— whose blood is this?”

he sets his helmet down and gives you a tired smile. “nah. not mine. i’m okay. sorry for worrying you, baby.”

he leans down to give you a sweet kiss, and you throw your arms around him, hugging him tightly. “i’m just glad you’re okay.”

when you pull away, he grimaces down at your shirt, now also stained with grime. “let’s go take a shower, baby. you’re all dirty now.”

“together?” you ask, shy.

he grins.

—

in the bathroom, he strips you down first, tossing your dirtied clothes into a separate pile next to your laundry basket. you watch, perched on the counter butt-naked as your firefighter boyfriend removes his gear. he shrugs off his heavy jacket to reveal big arms, and then he pulls his t-shirt over his head to reveal bigger pecs and toned abs. he catches you appreciating him and smirks playfully, and you blush, but your eyes stay firmly on him and his body.

the way he unbuckles his belt makes you squeeze your thighs together, and the thick thighs that fill your vision when he slides his pants down his legs make you feel weak in the knees.

you finally look away, face flaming, when he hooks his thumbs into his briefs with a wink in your direction. you hear him chuckle and your ears warm up, too.

soon, your boyfriend’s handsome face appears in front of you. “it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he teases, and you whine, pressing your face into his neck.

“but still,” you mumble. he laughs and wraps his arms around you.

“adorable,” he murmurs, fond. he lifts you up, much too effortlessly for you and your weak heart, and carries you into the shower. all you can do is keep your face hidden in his neck as your cheeks redden even more. he sets you down in the shower and adjusts the water temperature.

“wanna wash your hair for you, gyu,” you tell him.

he smiles, adoration clear in his eyes. “thank you, baby.”

you lather up his shampoo in your hands, and once you hold out foamy, bubbled-up hands, he bends down so you can reach his head. you massage the lather into his scalp gently and you make sure to get to all of his hair, knowing he always comes home sweaty and dirty after a call like this.

after a minute, you help him rinse it off. he sputters when he accidentally inhales while water is running down his face and you giggle brightly.

“don’t laugh at me,” your boyfriend sulks. you grin at him and brush his wet bangs away from his eyes. your big, tall, beefy boyfriend frowns down at you, adorable little pout on his lips.

you pat his chest twice. “turn around. i’ll wash your back.”

“you’re spoiling me today,” he murmurs. “all of a sudden?”

“you worried me. i called you but you didn’t pick up,” you explain. “so now i need to make sure you’re okay.”

“oh,” he says. you can’t see his face while he’s turned around, but he sounds sheepish enough for you to be able to imagine the expression he’s making right now. “‘m sorry. dropped my phone by accident. not sure if it’s broken or dead, but that’s probably why i didn’t answer your calls.”

oh.

of course.

you laugh loudly, suddenly realising that you were so worried about him when in actual fact, your clumsy boyfriend had just dropped his phone — again. “i should’ve known.”

you can hear the pout in his voice. “it’s not on purpose.”

you finish soaping up his back, running your palms over the expanse of golden skin. wordlessly, he turns to face you. you start washing his front, too, taking your time as you run your hands over his shoulders, his chest, his biceps, his abs.

and, in predictable mingyu fashion, his cock is rock hard, long and girthy and drooling at the tip. you drop to your knees and place your hands on his thighs, and his breath hitches.

“baby?”

you look up at him through your lashes, then sink your mouth down over his cock as far as you can go in one stroke.

“f-fuck!”

his abs clench wildly, and his knees buckle for a second. his fingers tangle into your wet hair. he curses loudly as you swallow around him, determined to take in more of him. the sight of you, pretty lips stretched around his cock, eyes staring up at him seductively, makes him clench his muscles to stop himself from bucking into your mouth.

using your hold on his thighs for leverage, you sink your mouth down onto his cock as far as you can go and nearly choke yourself — and the spasm of your throat is absolute heaven for mingyu. he whines and his grip on your hair tightens. you tongue at his cock and hollow your cheeks and bob your head on his cock, making sure to swallow around him whenever he’s deep in your throat.

it doesn’t take long. “fuck, baby, ‘m gonna come,” he gasps. “where—”

you slam down onto mingyu’s cock, choking yourself again, and he comes with a yelp. his cum floods into your mouth and throat, and you swallow most of it.

letting the remaining bit of his come pool on your tongue, you open your mouth wide for him to see, and then you swallow that too. he stares with wide eyes, and his cock twitches valiantly.

he drops to his knees too, settling himself next to you, and he pulls you into his lap and holds you tightly. he kisses you frantically and moans when he tastes himself in your mouth. “fuck, baby,” he mutters when you pull away. “that might have been the best head of my life. your knees must hurt. c’mon, let’s wash up quickly so i can take you to bed.”

as soon as his soapy hands find their way to your body, you both know you’re not making it to bed anytime soon.