#no. i can’t laugh yet. I’ve gotta hold it in.

[shelf-of-knicknacks]

First Meeting

[zombiecowboy65]

*rubbing my hands together like a villain* what does Jeremy Knox’s heart long for and which of those traits is Jean gonna have?

[luffysprincess]

Giggling and blushing while I draw myself in capitano’s arms (it’s where I belong) ᰔ

[nateezfics]

Their reaction to you asking to cockwarm for the first time 😩

COCKWARMING ATEEZ

PAIRING — ateez x reader

GENRE — smut, romance, established relationship, boyfriend!ateez, fem bodied!reader, sub!reader, soft dom!ateez

WARNINGS — smut, unprotected sex, cockwarming, semi public sex (hong’s studio), dirty talk//sexual language, intentional lower case and small font, intentional word abbreviations

WORD COUNT — 2.3k

SUMMARY — cockwarming ateez for the first time.

HONGJOONG

“so…just sit on it?”

hongjoong closed his eyes and inhaled. he was obviously growing impatient, what with his work needing to be done and his cock resting between your thighs, throbbing with need to get inside you. he held his cock and rubbed its head against your slick folds. “yes, baby. sit on it.”

the fabric of his t shirt crumpled in your fists as you braced yourself against him. you slipped down his length, sheathing it in your warmth. you both sighed, him at your tightness, and you at the stretch. instinctually your hips began to move, but a hand at your thigh quickly halted you.

“f-fuck,” he groaned, glaring down at his hand on your thigh like he wanted to do anything than keep you from bouncing on him. hongjoong swallowed while his thumb rubbed circles into your skin. “just sit. you gotta warm it. stay still while i work, okay?”

you huffed and leaned into his chest petulantly. two seconds into trying cockwarming for the first time and you already hated it. you wanted to move, needed to. his cock, nestled so deep inside, was brushing against that gummy spot; if you could just move, it’d feel so good. by this time he’d normally be pounding into you with reckless abandon, giving into what you both craved. right now, he was still, his arms around you as he busied himself with whatever it was he was working on. despite his cock being buried to the hilt in your cunt, he paid you no mind.

it wasn’t long before you were unable to withstand it any longer. you rocked your hips over his lap, whimpered into his ear that wasn’t covered with his headphones, and moaned his name weakly. and just when you thought he had a resolve of steel, his hips rutted upwards. “fuck it,” hongjoong cursed under his breath just as his hands found purchase on your hips, holding you still while his hips snapped into you repeatedly. “we’ll try again next time.”

SEONGHWA

“this piece, and t-this piece…” seonghwa’s deep voice was hoarse with need. and even as he thought aloud, trying to keep his mind together, he just couldn’t focus on the task at hand. he cursed, dropping the lego pieces onto the table. “fuck, baby, can’t i just –” he bucked his hips in a wordless plea.

you bit your lip to stifle a moan. you picked up the pieces again, offering them to him. “no, gotta stay still. it’s the whole point of cockwarming. now, finish building your set. you’re almost done.” you were sat atop him with your back to him. you watched his hands from each side of your form take the lego pieces again and resume what he had been doing.

seonghwa rested his chin on your shoulder. “this would be so much easier if i could focus, you know.” his fingers skillfully put the set together, the sight almost hypnotic to you.

“you don’t look like you’re having a hard time,” you replied, but were quickly reminded of the very hard cock nestled inside you.

he laughed and groaned at the same time, his breath fanning across your cheek. goosebumps scattered on your skin. seonghwa’s lips were against your ear then. “maybe…maybe i could take a little break, come back to this when i’ve cleared my head a little…” a hand slid down to where you were joined, his thumb pressing into your clit.

the clench around him was immediate, and you both almost lost all resolve right then and there. it was so tempting to just let him fuck you, even bend you over this table. but you weren’t going to back down, not yet. “keep working, just a little more. i promise you’ll get to fuck me. soon.”

the lego set was soon forgotten…

YUNHO

“yunho, please…” your cry fell on deaf ears, or rather, your cry simply did not penetrate the large headphones atop his head. you whimpered, cheek smooshed into his chest as you straddled him. he remained oblivious to you, too caught up in his video game. even with you wrapped around his thick cock, he was much more concerned with defeating his on screen opponents than fucking you. cockwarm me, he said. it’ll be fun, he said. you cursed him in your head.

you sat up straight, your face to his, effectively blocking his view of the computer screen. yunho was able to look over your shoulder with ease thanks to his larger frame, and this only fueled your annoyance more. you opted to trail kisses down his jaw, thinking that surely this would grab his attention. but no, it didn’t. the only sign he was even remotely affected was the slow bob of his adam’s apple. you groaned, and with no other option coming to mind, you took matter into your own hands and began bouncing on his lap, fucking yourself on his cock.

god, it felt good. so good. and you savored the sweet torture of his cock stretching your walls over and over, at least that was until one of his long arms wrapped around your frame to still you. you looked up at him to find that he was looking down at you, finally giving you attention for the first time since you’d been on him.

“what do you think you’re doing?” yunho had now paused his game, your bounces on his cock too much of a distraction. “I thought i told you to warm my cock while I played, not fuck yourself on it.”

“your game was taking too long, and –”

“and what? is my poor baby getting needy, huh?” yunho put his controller aside to hold your waist with both hands. with his full attention now on you, and that familiar dark look in his eyes, you didn’t feel as brazen as before. he chuckled, grinding his hips into yours in a way that had you melting in his arms. “well, if you wanted my attention so bad, now you have it. just remember you asked for this, baby.”

YEOSANG

“so…we just lay here?” yeosang’s voice was low in your ear, barely a whisper as you both payed attention to the movie. you were both on the couch, with him behind you and you settled comfortably in front of him. and his cock stuffed fully inside your cunt.

“yeah,” you said, and when you readjusted yourself, you pressed him further inside, making the poor man behind you groan.

“okay,” he started, strong arm tightening around you. he sounded winded, like he was struggling not to fuck you. which he definitely was, your tight walls tempting him to move. “but if we’re gonna do this, try not to move. please.”

the need in his velvety voice went straight to your core, and god, you almost caved at the sound. you weren’t fairing much better than him, but you at least wanted to give this a try. “okay, i’ll try.”

you managed to get through most of the movie with neither of you moving. his cock was still rock hard, and you were still so wet. your mind began to go numb, only occupied with thoughts of him, the movie a mere blur to you. it was getting closer to the end, and the end meant that finally he could move, could fuck you.

you intended to make it, to wait until you saw the credits that signaled the close of the movie, but yeosang’s hand pressing against your tummy showed that he had other plans. his hips moved tentatively back and forth; it was enough to make you both sigh out in pleasure. “i think,” he spoke between small ruts, “we’re close enough to the end.”

you nodded. “i think so too…” you rolled your rear against him for more friction.

“fucking finally.” there was a symphony of relieved moans at that first deep thrust of his hips.

SAN

san landed on top of you in a heap, panting heavily while he kissed your temple. your arms remained around his neck while you both came down from the high, your sweaty skin sticking together. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.” you kissed his shoulder. moments later he made to get off you, but you cried aloud, limbs wrapping around his body to keep him close. “stay inside of me.”

san laughed as his forehead rested against yours. “stay inside? but why? i’m all…soft now.”

“wanna cockwarm you. just for a little while.”

san was already inclined to do as you asked, but your pretty eyes looking up at him so cutely did him in. “okay. i’ll stay inside, baby.” san remained within you, but moved you both to lay on your sides for more comfort. his arms wrapped around you protectively.

you were content to pass the time listening to his heartbeat and revel in the intimacy of the moment. there was the occasional pillow talk over the most random things, soft giggles, and sweet kisses. sweet kisses that began to linger, grow deeper, and hands tangling in hair and soft sighs filling the air. the heated energy from before returned, and you felt the way san’s cock began to grow inside your walls.

you moaned, and san laughed, throwing your leg over his hip and thrusting. “i think i see why you wanted me to stay inside.”

you smiled as he began to fuck you, fully hard cock pushing you further towards your second orgasm of the night.

MINGI

“baby, i can’t sleep like this…”

“mingi, please,” you whined. “do it for me.” your boyfriend shifted behind you, large hands gripping your hips tightly. his cock was deep, already positioned to hit that sweet spot inside you if he only moved.

“how can i sleep when you’re so tight around me?” mingi was restless, your tight cunt the only thing occupying his mind. he was much too aroused to even attempt to find sleep. he was throbbing, the need to fuck you so intense it was unbearable. “I don’t even know why you wanted to do this in the first place.”

“mingi…” you huffed and fixed the pillow under your head, trying to not move your lower half at all. “just be still then if you can’t sleep.”

“you’re acting like you don’t inwardly want me to fuck you right now.”

“this isn’t about fucking.”

“like hell it isn’t,” mingi grumbled, starting to pull his hips back to thrust into you, but stopping himself. you didn’t make a sound, but the way you clenched around him told him everything. “your pussy is fluttering around me, begging to be fucked.”

when he pushed into your backside, you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped you. you heard him laugh behind you.

he kissed your neck. “what was that?”

you rolled your eyes though he couldn’t see. “okay, stop the teasing and just fuck me, will you?”

mingi thrusted into you forcefully. you cried out, barely catching your breath before he was moving again. “gladly.”

WOOYOUNG

“oh my god, wooyoung!” you cried into his neck, fists balling his shirt.

“feels good, yeah?” wooyoung kissed the top of your head while his thumb busied itself with your clit, rubbing smooth circles against the sensitive bud. you were spasming around his cock, so obviously close to cumming.

“this isn’t how it’s done,” you whined. “i’m just – fuck – supposed to warm your cock.”

“you are baby, but you never said i couldn’t rub your clit.” wooyoung was smug, staying completely still just like you asked him to despite him currently working you towards the edge. “you don’t want me to stop, do you?”

your head shook vigorously. “no! m’so close! so close!”

wooyoung smirked. “that’s what i thought.” his thumb was constant, steady rhythm on your bundle of nerves making you spiral in his lap.

“w-wooyoung, fuck!” your orgasm rushed through you, and you came hard around his still cock. you barely heard his low groan through the haze of your high.

“god, so tight, baby.” wooyoung gripped your hips, slamming you down onto him. “now it’s my turn to cum.”

JONGHO

“you’re so pretty when you’re full of my cock.”

jongho’s nasty words were punctuated by the sight of you in the mirror, splayed between his legs, your thighs open, and cunt stuffed full of his thick cock. you moaned, back arching and hips moving in search of friction. “jongho, please. fuck me.”

“not yet, i wanna admire you warming my cock some more.” his eyes found yours in the mirror, and he chuckled at the neediness in your gaze. “you can wait just a little while longer, can’t you?”

that was a stupid question only meant to tease you. he knew you couldn’t. he knew how desperate you were. you were leaking all around him, pussy begging for him to move. “i’ve already been waiting so long…”

“and you’ve been doing so good,” jongho praised with a kiss to your temple. “please just let me keep you like this for a little bit more. you’re just so pretty like this. i think we need to do this more often, baby. don’t you think so?”

you only whined in desperation. “I don’t wanna cockwarm you anymore, just want you to fuck me.”

jongho pinched your nipple, making you cry out. “so demanding,” he grunted. “if you want to cum at all tonight, you’ll stop whining, okay?”

you whimpered, but nodded anyway.

another kiss to your temple. “good, baby.”

AUTHOR’S NOTES — sooooo excited to finally have this posted 😩🙌🏻

TAG LIST — @abiaswreck @hongthoven @httpseungmxn @itza-meee @jungkookieprincess @jaerisdiction @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @svintsandghosts @thesafecafe @wolfgurl2600-blog @5starduca

NETWORKS — @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

could u pls write a fic about a plus sized reader noticing Spencer doesnt look at her alot so one morning she wears lingerie and a see through robe and she teases him until he just takes her on the couch?

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: listen, it wasn't that you didn't love the domestic life with spencer, but god, you just really missed being touched (and penelope has a solution).

— warnings: uhh this is almost 3k of pwp firstly, penelope being the best wingwoman to ever exist, lingerie, teasing, unprotected sex, couch sex, vaginal sex, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, kind of switch spencer and reader at the end, riding, heavy petting, subspace if you squint, mentions of oral sex (m and f rec), the reader is lowkey a freak (and penelope instigates it), clothed sex, the reader is dressed and spencer isn't, i held myself back from including a mommy kink, but that's the best you're getting from me, a lack of foreplay (be considerate folks), consent kink, praise kink.

— wc: 2817

⋆ a/n: HEY SO i really let this get away from me in the sense of this was meant to kind of be dom!spencer but i blinked and all of a 2k was written of sub!spencer so yikes!! but i really enjoyed writing this, it's been literally forever since i've written pwp so... here ya go!! i'm trying to be more organized with uploading because i really want to clear out my drafts before starting any new projects.

masterlist | AO3

“Pen, have you ever seen those TikToks where it’s like ‘he has a whole woman in his bed yet he’s playing World of Warcraft’ or some shit like that?” You ask the phone that’s tucked under your chin.

You’re in the middle of putting up laundry, but a feeling of unrest bubbled beneath your skin.

Penelope laughs, “And let me guess, that’s how you feel right now?” 

You sigh, looking down at the shirt that refuses to turn inside out. You throw it back in the hamper with a huff before grabbing a pair of – Spencer’s – jeans.

“I just – I’m not with Spencer for just sex, you know that, but it’s been like… forever since I’ve gotten any.” You can’t even listen to yourself talk.

“We’ve been in this like… domestic bliss stage, and while I love waking up to breakfast in bed and giggly showers, I’m horny and every time he does something so normal – something that shouldn’t even be considered sexy – I have to hold myself back from jumping his bones.” 

Penelope lets out a rather unattractive chortle, but she continues. “Listen sister, while I love the Boy Genius as much as the next person, he’s kinda dense. With all those brains, he’s rather hard-headed when it comes to romance.”

“I know, I know, and those are one of the reasons why I love him! The denseness is cute, but I’m starting to think I sabotaged myself.” You look down longingly at the MIT t-shirt. Spencer was away at the office right now, so that means whatever conversation you were having with the colorful woman on the other end was completely inappropriate.

“You know what I think?” She starts. “Oh God.” You sigh fondly. “Oh, hush! Don’t even act like my ideas aren’t good! Anyway… If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being quite the seductress myself, is that at the end of the day a man is a man, and they can be reduced down to their most primal instincts.”

“What are you saying?” You inquire curiously with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m saying that you gotta work with what ya mama gave ya! Men are dumb, they see a tit or a nice ass and they lose all cognitive function. So what I’m saying is to put on some lingerie and act like a little minx! Guys love it when you tease them and act like you don’t know what you’re doing! It’s about the chase, my fellow curvaceous protege.”

“So you’re saying to… seduce him?”  

“That’s exactly what I’m saying – Oh! Good morning sir! Yes, sorry, I’ll call you back when I’ve got the answer to what you need… yes okay bye-bye!” And with that, you’re left listening to the silence. 

You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation before taking a seat on the bed.

Seduce him, huh? The notion almost seems ridiculous, but it really isn’t that far fetched. You’ve had sex with Spencer before, you know how his brain works, what gets him needy and what parts of you turn him on. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

You don’t really own any lingerie, because for one, the material that’s supposedly the back of your underwear gets swallowed by your ass, and two, Spencer’s never complained about your granny panties. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to look right?

Okay, seduce Spencer Reid is a go.

Taking one last scrutinizing look in the bathroom mirror, you leave quietly, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of coffee. Liquid courage as they say.

The light pink sheer robe hangs off of your ample form, the fuzz on the edge of your sleeves getting in your way and irritating you. God, if this doesn’t work, a woman by the name of Penelope Garcia is going to find herself six feet underground.

Spencer sat on the couch slipping his feet into a pair of mismatched socks – you’ve stopped trying to organize them a while ago – tucking them into his converse. He’s off today, probably having plans with the bookstore and the park before offering to make the both of you dinner. It’s endearing to say the least, but food is not something you're hungry for.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” You ask before taking a sip of your coffee. He hasn’t looked up, but you’re facing him now, your scantily clad body exposed by the thin satin of your white bra and underwear. A devil in disguise (you hope).

“Hmm, I was thinking about playing chess in the park for an hour or two before going to the bookstore. A new novel about quantum physics just came out, and even though it’ll probably be about stuff I already know, I’m always willing to look at it from a different perspec…” Spencer finally looked up, his sentence slurring a bit. “...tive.”

“Ah! That sounds exciting! I’ll text you what I want for dinner later if that’s okay? Or would you rather I go shopping with you?”

He blinks, his mouth hanging open intelligently, as though he’s still trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. “Yes. I mean no - I mean… I… what are you wearing?”

You spare a lazy look down, as though you had forgotten you even had the thing on.

“Oh this? It’s just really hot in the apartment today. So make sure you bring some sunscreen and a fan, yeah? Don’t want you getting a sunburn or having a heat stroke.”

“I - I’ve never seen that set before, is it new?” He stammers. You click your tongue as if you genuinely had to date the outfit back, when in reality the tags to the set itself sits pretty in the bathroom trash can. “I have no idea honestly, it looked comfortable though, so I just slipped it on. You don’t mind, right?”

“I… no. I don’t.”

You beam at him, “Perfect. Oh! Let me make you some coffee before you go, I know how hard it is for you to start your day without it.” 

You turn back around, and you could hear Spencer fruitlessly swallow a gasp. The back of your underwear might as well have been a piece of string, because your ass cheeks were basically eating the material. It was uncomfortable, but oh well, beauty is pain.

You smirk in victory, pulling out a medium sized thermos and pouring the rest of the liquid in it.

You didn’t hear him move, let alone walk behind you, but two large hands placed themselves respectively on your hips, the man tucking his face in the side of your neck. You shiver at the hot blow of air that escapes through his nose, and his grip on your skin turns a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” The question is mumbled, but you don’t miss it. “What does it look like? I’m making you coffee, silly.” He huffs. “No. I mean what are you doing to me?”

He presses forward, pushing his half hard cock between your cheeks. It was your turn to gasp, and you couldn’t help but put down the pot of coffee, pushing the now full thermos away to avoid any future hazards. 

You hold on to the edge of the counter, tilting your head further to the side to give the needy man more access. He takes the hint, peppering sweet, heated kisses on the sensitive skin of your throat. You shiver once more, sighing out a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know lying is useless, especially with the way your voice sounded so breathless. “You know you’re a terrible liar.” It was a playful dig, and his palms had begun to move, pushing on your full stomach to put more of your weight on him.

“Hm, but you don’t know every single thing I have in the closet, now do you?” You remark, yelping when he nipped at your earlobe. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong and you know it.” You do. “Do I?”

“This is terrible foreplay.” He jokes and you giggle. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?” You push your hips back and add a bit of friction onto his cock. He groans and you feel your pussy pulse.

“You always do a good job.” Spencer murmurs.

You’re turned around so you can face him, and you wish you could take a picture to savor the look on his face. He’s beet red, cheeks and ears flushed a beautiful hue that leaves a twinge of pride pooling in your stomach.

He cups your face, drawing you in for a long awaited kiss. 

You sigh into him, hands twisting at the sleeves of his cardigan to pull him closer. He lets you in exchange of pushing you against the counter until your lower back is digging uncomfortably into the marble.

“Where do you wanna go?” He finally breathes. You stare at him as if you were in a daze before processing his question with a blink. “Couch?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He says before joining your lips together once more.

He walks the both of you backwards slowly, and he takes advantage of when your mouth parts in a moan as he flicks his tongue against the top of your lip. He tastes like toothpaste and you might be a little crazy to think that it makes him way sexier than it should.

Your eyes flutter open and you push him away with hands on his chest gently.

“Do you trust me?” You gasp.

“Of course.”

“Good.” You say with a smirk.

You make sure he’s close enough to the edge of the couch when you push him on it, quickly clambering onto his lap and settling your hands on his shoulders; his fall naturally to your waist and you grin.

“Hi.” You whisper quietly. “Hey.” He responds back just as hushed. “You can grab my ass, you know.” You tease and his eyes widen just slightly. “I…” You guide his palms to hold the meat of your ass and he grips.

“God.” It tumbles from his lips in a whimper and you fucking melt. 

“Sorry I’ve been such a tease today, Spencie.” You say sweetly with a fake pout. “I just needed you so bad and you’ve been so, so sweet to me, my sweet boy. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking you to fuck me stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined it.” He corrects with a whine. You had begun to grind down on him and he gripped you tightly, helping you rut against him. “No?” You question. He shakes his head quickly, his hair bouncing along with the swings.

“No. ‘Would’ve done anything you asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So, if I asked you to let me suck your dick until I’ve sucked the soul out of you, would you have let me? How about if I asked you to eat my pussy for breakfast, huh? Would you have done it?”

“Yes, yes, God yes! I want to… I wanna do all those things so badly.” He groans, all but pawing at you now. 

“I bet you do,” You coo. “I guess I haven’t been the only one pent up. But that’s okay, because I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss before traveling downwards to his belt and wrangling it open. You popped open the buttons of his jeans, sliding back so you can tug them down his legs. 

“Up.” You command softly and he obliges. 

You’re faced with his hardened cock bulging from under his black underwear.

“Oh… is this for me?” You know you’re being mean when you drag your fingertips over the spot where precum has begun to pool, only putting slight pressure on it just to hear that sweet sound of his breath hitching.

“Yes – it’s all for you.” Spencer whines and throws his head back against the couch. “All for me? My goodness…” You trail off as you drag his underwear down his thighs. His cock springs up and bobbles against his clothed stomach.

“Can I –” He licks his lips, “Can I take my shirt off?”

“Of course, my love.” You were just about to ask him anyway.

As he rids himself of his top you get up for a split second to take his pants and underwear off fully. As you go to undress yourself, he stops you.

“W— wait… keep it on please.” 

“Oh? You wanna be nasty and pull my panties to the side, huh? Dirty dirty boy.” You tisk, but in reality you feel like you’re about to explode. “Is that okay?” You smile at his question. “More than okay.”

You climb back on top of him, doing exactly what you said and pulling the white satin to the side before gripping his dick, lining it up to your entrance. He holds you steady looking up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes as you sink down.

The stretch stings because of the lack of foreplay, but you can’t find it within yourself to care as the pain shoots up your lower back and is already fraying at your pleasure filled nerves. 

“So… so good. God.” Spencer chokes. 

Your lips are rolled between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You heave out a breath when he sinks down to the hilt, and he just rubs soothing circles on your hips. The feeling helps to guide you as you loosen up, and when you do, you give him an experimental clench.

He groans of course and you smirk lazily.

“‘Gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” You murmur as you lift your hips up before slamming down. Spencer practically shouts when he re-enters you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He’s a whimpering, cursing mess. “That feels good, baby?” You ask as you bounce. Spencer nods and fondness twists in your chest.

“You’re so tight. I think ‘m gonna pass out.” He says dramatically. You laugh, grabbing his hands and slipping them under your bra so they can cover your breasts. “Well, don’t pass out until we’ve cum, alright?”

He gives your breasts a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.” He huffs and you giggle again. The giggles die out though when you shift and his tip prods just right.

“Oh shit.” You curse but remain in the same place.

You ride him in abandon, the sound of skin meeting skin radiating out into the early morning air of the apartment. The sound is nasty and wet and it causes your head to swim. The buzz of mind numbing pleasure swims around in your gut, and you can almost grasp it.

“Spence I – I need more, can you…?” You moan out, your head tilting back. “Yeah, yeah, I got you, sweetheart.”

One hand leaves to rub furiously at your clit and your hips cant forward, sending you landing on his naked, sweat slicked chest. Your thighs burn and you rest for a moment, but Spencer doesn’t seem to match the same sentiment, because the other hand holds you by your hip in a grip that’s almost bruising. 

The fat is spilling through his fingers but he uses it as leverage as he now fucks up into you. You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and tucking his face into yours. You mark him mindlessly, body trembling as you near your orgasm.

You can feel him twitch inside of you when he sets a pace, bringing you up and down in a way that indicates he’s nearing an end of his own.

“Together, okay?” You cry out, “‘Wanna cum together.”

“Okay, honey, okay.” 

He sets his feet on the floor and rubs harder at your sensitive bud, and the arousal that implodes inside of you is so blinding that you white out for a minute. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed, and you can hear him mewling into your ear before warmth paints your womb.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment before you speak.

“I have to tell you a secret.” You whisper mindlessly, laying your cheek on a bony shoulder. “And what’s that?” He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“This set is new.”

“I know honey, I saw the charge on my card.”

“What?!” You exclaim, pulling away from his body to search his hazy eyes with your wide ones.

“You forget I can see the bank statements.” Spencer says with a smile. “No, no. I – I didn’t mean to use your card.”

“You didn’t have to… I may have uh… may have slipped one into your wallet when you weren’t looking.” He admits sheepishly. You stare at a moment and then smile incredulously. “Did you… secretly sugar daddy me?”

“Oh God, please don’t call it that.” He says with a groan, leaning forward to bury his face in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever sugar daddy.” You tease, running your fingers through his sweaty locks.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SIXTEEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch @ryywyd @lupinqs

warnings long chapter (9.3k words), sexual content (fucking filth, you’re welcome!)

kalena speakss 🪽! i’m so so sorry for the wait, i’ve been lazy and also interrupted multiple times while writing. anyways, there’s nothing i’ve enjoyed writing, more than paige and maraye’s story. so, i thank you guys for all the support since it’s dropped and all the interactions and comments and anons, y’all truly make me laugh. i have an epilogue and around two bonus chapters planned so be on the look out for those. i’d love some live reactions to this one if you guys are up for it! anyway enjoy the finale with my babies, i put pen to paper for this one!

July 2025 — Indianapolis, Indiana

“You can’t answer your phone now?”

“Pa—”

“My girl just treatin’ me like I’m chopped damn liver.”

“Pai—”

“Who you with?”

“Paige!” I finally cut in, shaking my head and tapping the FaceTime button on the screen. “Shut up for a second, and pick up.” I groan.

The sound of the call connecting, finally comes through, and I can’t help but press the photo button when I see her, all laid out on her hotel bed with an arm behind her head. Her face is flushed, hair slightly sweating from her first All-Star practice. A pout graces her lips and her eyes squint as she scowls.

“Hi.” I grin.

“What’s so important that you can’t answer my calls?” She asks again, staring at me intensely through the screen.

I roll my eyes at her eagerness. Our plane landed early that morning, and after getting checked in at our respective hotels, Paige had practice and I went out to do some shopping. “I’m tryna find an outfit for our date.” I explain, looking over at the girls next to me who attempt to help me out.

“You by yourself?” She asks. Her eyebrows furrow, and knowing Paige, I know she’s pissed that I didn’t ask her to come with me. 

I shake my head, panning the camera to reveal both Nika and Azzi next to me. I’m not sure how this came about, but a few texts and an invitation later the two were joining me at the mall. 

“You didn’t tell us that Raye looked this good in person!” Nika speaks into the phone. I cover the lower half of my face with my hand, an attempt to hide my growing blush. 

“And for good reason.” The blonde replies before turning her attention towards me. “Baby, you ignorin’ me to hang out with them? That’s how you feelin’?”

I’ve spent the last hour and a half understanding why Nika and Azzi were Paige’s best friends. They were involved, and not in that nagging annoying way, they cared. They cared about Paige and wanted to keep her happy. Which in turn, meant they cared about my business with the woman.

I laugh at Paige, my attention still not fully on her as I assume she’d want. “I’m not ignoring you. I need to find an outfit, blondie.”

“Y’know you could wear a trash bag and I’d still wanna take you out, right?”

“That’s what I said!” Azzi sings into my ear. “But I will say, this one is perfect.” The girl says. Azzi holds up one of the two-piece sets I was yet to try.

“Girl you gotta try it on. I like it too.” Nika affirms.

Suddenly my phone is an afterthought. “Really? It’s not too casual?”

“Lemme see.”

“It’s Indiana. I promise this isn’t casual.” Azzi explains.

“Hellooo?”

“Your ass would look perfect in this skirt tho’. Wear this one!” Nika shakes the outfit on the hanger a little more harshly.

“Ight now I really need to see it.”

I look back and forth between the two women, both outfits fitting completely different vibes. The denim co-ord in Azzi’s hands would accentuate my hips and my tits, which Paige simply would fall out over. The black set in Nika’s hands might stop us from going out to dinner all together.

“P, what’s the dress code?” I turn back, looking down at her astonished face on my screen. Her lips slightly parted eyes blown wide.

“So know you remember I exist?” She teases.

I give her a tilt of my head, enough to let her know I want her to shut up. “Dress code, please?”

“Uh-I-I dunno. Nothin’ too fancy, nothin’ too casual.” Paige shrugs.

“Well whatchu wearin’?” I ask.

I know my choice of words should’ve been picked a bit better because Nika snickers beside me and Paige lets out a laugh, sending me that smirk of hers that makes my knees go a little bit weak in the store. 

“Ayo?” Paige jokes, covering her mouth with her palm.

“Paige Madison.”

“I’m wearin’ jeans!” She finally answers when her laughter dies down. “Jeans and a black tee, maybe a jacket. I dunno yet.”

I huff, looking back at the options the three of us have picked out. Paige was right, what I put on didn’t really matter. At least not as much as I thought it did. But this is our first date, my first date with a girl, with Paige— who isn’t just any girl. 

So I pick up the set in Nika’s hands, the black fabric running through my fingers. It is perfect. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

Paige nods, her lips folding into a small grin. “Tonight.”

—

I run my hand anxiously down the side of my jeans, catching a glimpse of the white patchwork on the knees and taking a deep breath outside the door. I’m nervous. Which is a feeling I’m not very used to yet. 

In my entire 23 years of living, I think I’ve only ever been on three first dates. Two in high school and one in college with Nyla. Though, I don’t really think I could ever consider that a date.

Either way, the number was slim to none which left me with zero clue of what to expect tonight. Especially from Maraye.

She was unpredictable. Nothing about her ever completely the same. She kept me on my damn toes, which was great but also so confusing at the same time.

I knocked on the hotel door softly before digging my hands into the pockets of my Kith jacket. Along with my black baggy jeans, I threw on a simple black shirt and a jacket. She might’ve never said it out loud, but with the way she always looks at me when I wear it, I know that black is Raye’s favorite color on me. As is mine on her.

My fingers are decorated with silver rings. I have on two different chains, the first is a simple one with a cross and the second is my diamond 5 chain. I figured that a first date calls for pulling out all the stops. 

My stomach suddenly bubbles with anxiousness and my pulse is heard in my ears as I wait for her. This is it. Our first date, and the more I repeat it in my head, the more surreal it sounds.

I was right about not knowing what to expect with Raye, because I knew she’d look good but I wasn’t ready for her to look this damn good.

She wears this black two piece. The skirt is long and low waisted, giving me a view of the fine lines of her abdomen, a thin waist chain and a navel piercing, both gold that make my mouth water. The matching shirt falls off of her left shoulder, a velvet bunch of material that is ruched on her side. 

All Raye ever wears is gold, which doesn’t change now, her rings are thin bands, and there are bracelets adorning her wrists from Van Cleef and Louis Vuitton. She’s dripped down in it, and it makes her glow even more than normal. Her scent, Chanel no.5 as per usual, travels up to my nose and I swear I could pass out from getting my eyes on her alone.

“Goddamn, Miss Carter.”

“Gimme a second, sorry.” She laughs, a pure and bright laugh that makes my eyes go wide.

I clear my throat, nodding my head while shamelessly raking my eyes over her. “Got all dressed up for me, huh?” I say, taking Maraye’s invitation to enter her room, the door closing behind me.

She scoffs. “You fuckin’ wish.” And if it weren’t for the fact that I heard from her own mouth that this outfit was specifically for tonight, I would have believed her. “I look good tho’?”

I nod almost immediately, my head moving before I could really even process what she just asked me. Because she looks damn good. Not just her clothing, the fine lines of each of her tattoos are shown off by what she wears, and her hair is completely different from when I saw it just this morning. Her curls blown out and trailing down her shoulders. She looks like a fucking model.

“You look—fuck. Raye, are you serious? You look gorgeous, ma.” I say, still almost breathless. “Y’know, I actually brought sum for you.”

“Why?”

I laugh at her reaction. “I mean, your birthday was yesterday. I was supposed to give it to you at the house, but someone was tryna get in my pants all night.” Raye instantly breaks eye contact with me at that, eyes traveling to the ceiling.

I dig into my back pocket, grasping the thin box in my hand before showing it to her. It’s simple, a thin sleek white that looks perfect against her hands.

Maraye looks at me skeptically, her eyebrow raising before she darts her eyes down at the box. She pulls the lid off carefully and I watch her intensely. The way she pouts at the thin line of jewelry in the box. There’s a gold Angel pendant in the center. 

“Paige.” She starts, and her feet are moving in an instant. She brings an arm to my cheek cupping it before leaning into me and placing her lips on my other cheek. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah? You like it?” I can feel my skin get hot and I lick my lips.

“Mmhmm. Love it, blondie.” Maraye nods, a grin spreading across her cheeks and I swear I see her blush just a little. “Imma wear it tonight.”

I can’t even hide my face, completely taken aback. “Y-you don’t have to. Really, it ain’t a big deal. If y’ont like it—”

“No. I do like it and I am wearing it.” She reaches down for my wrist, pulling me further into the hotel room. “Help me put it on.” Raye smiles, and just like that all my nerves are gone. Because she’s here, just like I want her to be. She’s all dressed up, saying all the right things, and smiling that smile that makes me forget that we do have places to be. 

I take the gold chain in my hands, raising my hands over her head and taking my spot directly behind her in the full length mirror. I clasp it, looking at how that pendant sits perfectly on the glistening hollow between her collarbones. 

“It’s perfect.” My arms settle around her waist, my chin in the crook of her neck. I watch her watch the two of us in the mirror, her fingers tracing over where it decorates her neck in gold. “It’s a cute angel.”

I hum and press my lips against the column of her neck. “My angel, yeah?” And I know I live for the way her face blushed at it. Her ears visibly reddening and her eyes darting away from me in the mirror.

Raye’s head turns to meet mine, her glossed lips immediately catching my attention as they curl upwards into a smile. Then she nods. A simple fucking nod that makes my entire body feel hot. We’re inches apart, I can see the gears in her head turning. I just know Raye thinks she’s slick, but I catch the way her eyes move down to my lips anyway.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” She murmurs, breaking our intense gaze with a slight stutter. I peel my arms off her waist and step back. She reaches for her purse, tossing the black YSL bag onto her shoulder and doing one last look over the room before looking back at me. 

All of a sudden the resolve I’ve attempted to have over the last 24 hours is out of the window. All I can think about is taking her right here, I don’t care about dinner. I care about the face she’d make under me, my name off her tongue, how fucking good I know she’d taste on mine. She looks like a dream, that fabric hugging every curve of that perfect—

“We’re gonna be late.” 

I lick my lips for what feels like the 50th time since I’ve been here. Stalking over to her, I immediately wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her into me until I can feel her belly piercing pressing up against my abdomen.

“I’m makin’ you mine, the second dinner is over.” I mumble, my lips dangerously close to hers.

She’s enjoying this, the way I visibly go crazy for her. The way I stop holding back because frankly, I don’t think I have to anymore. Raye doesn’t have to say it, but the way she arches her body into mine and grips at my bicep lets me know it’s turning her on too. Or at least I’ll pretend it does.

“Coulda done it last night.” Raye shrugs. “Or this morning.” She says pointedly. Her other hand reaches for mine on her waist, tugging it off and pushing it to my side. She spins on her toes, placing one kitten heeled foot in front of the other as she reaches for the door. 

I don’t even wait a second before my hand meets her ass.

“Paige!”

“Ain’t no way you thought I wasn’t gonna do that at least once.” She frowns at me, stepping to the side of the open doorway and looking at me expectantly.

“Walk in front of me.”

“Ma—”

“In front. Go.” Raye grits through her teeth, and when she looks at me like that I know better than to ignore her. I step through the doorway, watching behind me as she shuts it behind her. “You’re so annoying.”

I don’t answer, rather sticking my hand, palm up, for her to take. And she does. It’s then when I know that this is where I’m supposed to be, with her holding my hand. It’s simple, but still I think it makes my body react like it never has before.

She interlocks her fingers with mine, the coolness of her rings press into the sides of my fingers. She’s smiling, again. I drag her behind me, trying to get used to the feeling of our hands together, but all it does is mess up my head more. 

“You look really pretty by the way.” She murmurs, her eyes are glued to the floor when I look at her. I know my hand is sweating as a reaction to her compliment, and I don’t know what to do besides muttering a ‘thank you’ with a cheeky smile. 

I know I’m fucked. All I’m thinking now is that I have to make it through dinner. That’s it.

Get through dinner.

—

When I look away from our waiter— who has just informed us that a mistake was made in the kitchen and that our appetizers would be on the house— and over at Paige, she’s rolling her eyes and taking a sip from the wine she hated, but still insisted on getting an entire bottle of. She did it to make me happy, of course, even though I insisted that it wasn’t an issue for her to get her beloved Shirley temple.

She’s kissing her teeth, setting down the wine glass before picking up a slice of focaccia bread and smearing it in butter. “We need a different waiter.”

I can’t help but laugh at her sudden statement. “You’re being dramatic.” I say, following suit in throwing some bread into my own mouth.

“He tryna fuck you.” She points at me. I find her jealousy and blatant vulgarity amusing, especially when our waiter had to be no older than 18 years old. 

I lick the crumb from the corner of my lips. “And how would you know that, Madison?”

“Bro was lookin’ at you how I look at you. And that’s sayin’ something.” She says loudly, as if it’s obvious. My eyes go wide as I attempt to get her to quiet down. Paige did a good job of getting us a secluded table. Throw in the soft jazz that played and the ambiance of the low light, she did wonderful at making dinner as romantic as she could.

But it was obvious that dealing with our waiter was not in her evening plans.

“Stop it, no he wasn’t.” I brush her off, reaching for my nearly empty first glass of wine. The scent travels through my nose, just barely adding to my growing tipsiness. 

“And you're just flirting back. Smilin’ all big and shit.” Paige groans. “Showing all 32 is crazy.”

Her adamant attitude makes me smile, “He works in service, I’m being nice!”

“Flirting.”

“That boy prolly hasn’t even graduated high school yet, Paige.” I roll my eyes.

“You’re flirting.”

“You just love arguing wimme, huh?” I ask, leaning on my elbows to peer into her eyes across the table. 

She grins, crossing her arms as she leans into me in the same way I am. “Were you not the one all hot and bothered by me yelling at you on the plane?”

I smirk at the memory. The way her eyes turned dark when I suggested she talk to me like that again. How she was so set on keeping her word but still fell victim to my antics on her lap. And I was so close to getting her how I wanted her if it hadn’t been for her fucking stubbornness.

“See that was me flirting.” I say, trying to get that event out of my head before I’m proving Paige right and getting all bothered again. 

She shakes her head at me, scratching at her top lip with her thumb. The blonde takes her attention off me when that waiter comes back with our food. My blackened salmon and shrimp glistened in the sauce it came with. Alongside Paige’s ribeye steak, mashed potatoes, and broccolini.

She took control of the conversation with ease, allowing him to set down our plates before refilling our glasses of wine. I didn’t even spare a glance at our waiter because in my head, I’m thinking that there isn’t a moment in the last few months where Paige has looked hotter to me than she does right now.

I’d like to think that her choice of all black was purposeful because she knows how I react to it, but everything else has me losing my train of thought every few seconds into our conversations and whatever else that boy is saying to the both of us. Her Rolex watch gleams in the light each time she moves, the same with the diamonds of her 5 chain and earrings. Paige’s hair is slicked back into a bun that, outside of her wearing it down, might be my favorite style of hers.

I watch her intently, each movement of her fingers and arms. The way she licks her lips. Even the fake smile she gives to the waiter. Her fingers wrap around her glass, raising it slightly and tipping it towards my own. It’s then when I realize I’ve been doing nothing but staring and that I should probably follow suit.

“Be more slick next time.” Paige chuckles, our glasses finally clinking together. Her lips are just slightly glossed, a mixture of a sheer pink that makes them look even more beautiful than they already are when they touch the glass.

I take a heady gulp of my wine before reaching for my fork and knife, collecting them in one hand and draping the black cloth they came in over my lap. “Says the one who been staring at my tits all night, thinkin’ I didn’t notice.”

Paige tries to hide the face she makes, she really does. But when mine finally meet her blues, she folds almost immediately, swiping a hand over her chin and licking her lips with a gentle laugh. 

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

I look down at my plate while Paige does the same, my mouth heavily watering when I get a glimpse of my food, but even more when I see Paige’s plate.

“Madisonnnn.” I sing. My recent abuse of her middle name has made her smile all night, but this time she doesn’t. Mostly because she knows exactly what I’m asking for.

She shakes her head, preparing to cut her medium-rare steak, “absolutely not.”

“It’s my birthday.”

“Yeah, yesterday.”

“C’mon, just one bite.” I pout, hoping that it does what it normally does, and that is get her to crack.

She cuts a bite of the steak making sure to swipe it against the garlic butter on the plate before feeding it to herself. “You haven’t even tried your salmon yet, angel.”

On instinct I run my heel against her inner calf, moving it up higher until it’s up against her thigh. Paige’s eyes snapped to mine and I stuck out my lip, playfully batting my eyelashes at her. 

“Please, baby?” I murmur softly. The pet name feels foreign on my tongue, not just because It’s my first time saying it in reference to Paige. I genuinely can’t remember the last time I’ve used it at all.

She swallows her steak and I watch her hand travel under the table. Paige gives me that fucking smirk, gripping my ankle and holding it in place against her lap to stop my antic. “Try your food first.” 

I tug my ankle away from her and drop it to the floor, huffing before taking a bite of my perfectly seasoned salmon.

“How is it?” Paige asks, tapping a finger against the edge of the table.

I let the food melt on my tongue, “it’s amazing.” I mumble, following it with a sip of wine.

Paige nods in approval, cutting a piece of her steak as she did once before. She dangles the fork in my face like a dog with a toy. “C’mere, mama.”

I smile, not even bothering to hide it from her as I lean in some more, taking the bite she offered and letting the fork teasingly linger in my mouth. 

“Good?”

I dance in my seat. “Good. I think mine tastes better tho’.”

And Paige rolls her eyes. Scooting backwards from me and getting back to eating. Happily getting her own playful revenge on me as she does so.

—

“You were what?” I ask, nearly choking on air as I laugh.

I sit on the edge of my hotel bed, foot bouncing eagerly as I talk to Raye through the wall that separates the main room from the bathroom in which she entered the second I got the door open. I’m guessing the multiple glasses of wine was a bad idea for the both of us. Especially tonight, because I’m going crazy now that it’s just me and her.

I’m supposed to be all ears to our conversation, to her telling me about her nerdy high school endeavors. And I am finding amusement at every bit. 

Then, each time I blink, I’m thinking about her in that skirt. How her ass sits perfectly in it. The glistening glow of her waist chain on the perfectly defined abdomen, the curves of her hips. 

I can hear her groan over my laugh, before the water of the sink begins running. “Theater, Paige. I did theater. Quit laughing, you idiot!” She yells out.

“You were a thespian? Like for real?” 

The water cuts off, and her heels click against the bathroom tile before muffling against the carpet. Raye’s hips sway as she approaches me, 

“You were a lesbian jock. And you still are, so shut up.” The grits, slipping the heels off her feet and standing between my legs. Her words don’t even click in my head, all my attention is on her.

I reach my hands up to her thighs, gripping them through the fabric. “Put on a show for me then.”

“That was the best line you could come up with?” Raye asks, a laugh freeing itself from her throat. Her hands tugged mine off of her body, leaving my palms cold from her absence.

“You tellin’ me you got something better?”

“Mmhmm.”

When she steps back I swear I’ve died and gone to heaven. Slowly, Raye pulls that black top off of her head, showing off her gorgeous, navy, lace bra. It cups her tits just right, complementing the brown of her skin and the gold of her jewelry so good I wanna rip the rest of those clothes off.

“‘Member what you said last night? Teach you and you’ll teach me, or whatever?” She breathes. I just nod again, reaching forward for Raye’s hip. 

She smirks, sending my entire body into orbit. I’m soaked through my boxers and my jeans, completely enthralled by the way she looks before me. 

Raye bores those perfect brown eyes into mine while she hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt. “Wanna teach me sum then?” She tells me. I should’ve known that we couldn’t go more than five minutes in this room together before I was wanting to fuck her raw. Slow and deep and carnal and fucking raw. Wanting to give her everything that she’s never had before. 

I shoot up to my feet, watching her skirt pool on the floor. She steps out of it, rolling her neck up to look at me through her lashes. 

My eyes gaze over her body once more, how the lace on her hips clings to them. Her hair, bombshell curls— that I still don’t think I really ever got over— flipped over to one side and tattoo’s that decorated her skin in that perfect ink. 

“I've been tryna take my time with you.” I groan, running a palm over my chin, “makin’ this shit so hard.”

She catches me by surprise when she throws her arms around my neck, arching her chest towards my face. The line of her cleavage is even more defined by the simple moment.

“Teach me.”

I take a breath. “On everything, I ain’t stopping when I start.”

“Teach. Me.”

—

I swear Paige is kissing me before I can even finish my words. Lips on my harsh and certain. The first time, she was so delicate; like she was trying to figure me out. The second time was desperate, and I’m sure if it wasn’t for us getting interrupted she would’ve turned me out in the studio that night. The third time was like a goodbye. Short and sweet, but full of everything we were yet to say.

This one? It’s like oxygen after drowning. Maybe it was all the strain we’ve been feeling since our fight, or all the sexual tension that we’ve been tiptoeing around over the last 24 hours. But I feel like I’m floating, like her hands that dig into my hips let me become one with the sky as her lips dance on mine.

Paige tastes like perfection. Not anything I can specifically point out except for the wine and the slight sweetness from our shared Oreo cheesecake. 

I pull back, breaking the suction of our lips. She eyes the line of saliva that connects us, and I know it turns her on because Paige doesn’t even bother licking it away. She just brings me back, sliding her hands to my ass and gripping it as she entangles our tongues.

I suck on her hers sloppily, feeling myself grow wetter when she moans into the kiss. My hands cup her jaw angling my head just right so I can get more of her, more of anything.

In a swift movement she’s throwing off her jacket, the sound of it crashing to the floor muffled by the sound of our kisses. She’s turning me over, backing me towards the bed until I hit the foot of it. Paige lays me down, her action so gentle compared to the way she digs into my hips. 

All of a sudden I’m hyper aware of it all. Of how I’m standing here in nothing but carefully picked lingerie, letting Paige fucking Bueckers kiss me within an inch of my life. How desperate I must seem for her, but she doesn’t care, equally as needy for me. 

“Mine all fuckin’ night.” She murmurs on my lips, pulling away to lick her own as we both catch our breath. The coolness of her chain drags against my clavicle, making me gasp into her. Paige shakes her head, looking at me like she can’t even believe I’m real, before tilting my head with her hand at my jaw. Her lips attached to the line of it. “Gon’ fuck you till you can’t take it.”

I’m nodding, cupping her head to hold her there. I search her hair for the hair tie that holds her bun together, finding it and tugging her locks free so it falls down her shoulders. Paige kisses her way down my neck, finding my sweet spot almost too easily. 

My other hand darts under her shirt to tug at the waistband of her jeans, moaning breathlessly when she sucks on that spot right where my neck meets the top of my chest. “Fuck.” I groan, deciding that the quicker I get these clothes off, the quicker I get to leave her bed a fucking mess. “Take this shit off, P. Now.”

I tug at the hem of her black shirt and Paige pulls back from me, lips swollen and wet, to ruck her shirt off and toss it on the floor. I trail my eyes over her body; muscular shoulders tanned from the sun of summer, sports bra clad to her chest, line of her abs and that obvious V that leads down into her pants.

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

She cages me in with her arms, which flex at every subtle movement. Paige starts with the kissing again, first with a bite to my earlobe before she trails lower and lower. Over the tattoo down the side of my neck, until she meets my chest. “You so perfect, angel.”

I hum, feeling myself get wetter and wetter with each word she says. “Paige.”

“Mm?” She purrs, looking up at me with her lips attached to the swell of my breast.

“Been—mmph— been wantin’ you for months, baby. Stop teasing and fuck me.” I stutter, allowing my fingers to tangle in her long blonde locks. 

Paige curls her arm under my body, grounding my hips with one hand and unclipping my bra with the other. It comes easy for her, and my mind briefly travels to that place where I’m wondering how many girls she’s had to have done this to for it to be that simple. She peels my bra down my arms, tossing it behind her as well. The way she looks at me, like I’m prey, makes me realize I don’t fucking care. I can’t care, not when it’s just me and her.

“I gotchu, baby. I do, jus’ lay back.” Paige says. She licks up the center of my body before turning her head to lick at my nipple, swirling her tongue around it messily. She wraps her lips around it, sucking on my tit like it’s a pacifier. “So fine. Shit unreal.” 

She does the same to my other breast, squeezing the flesh in her hand, biting at my nipple. She’s nasty. As I expected her to be, with the way she’s been acting since I met her. But this, the worshiping of my body is something I’ve never had before. With anyone.

Paige trails sloppy kisses down my torso, leaving hickeys on my stomach that I know I’m going to have to cover up in order to wear my outfit tomorrow.

She gets settled between my legs, trailing her nose against the hem of my panties. “Need this pussy, ma. Needa taste you.” She bites at the lace, snapping it against my inner leg and I whimper.

Her thumb curls into them, being slow and gentle with the way she tugs the clothing down my legs. “This okay?”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” I nod, lifting my hips to aid her. “So okay.”

In response she grins at me, kissing across my pelvis down to my inner thighs. Her eyes glued to mine, blues dark with how wide her pupils have dilated, before they dart between my legs to my soaked cunt. “Fuck, Raye.” She groans, pressing her thumb to my clit.

“P, I need—”

“No fuckin’ way you been keepin’ this from me.” Paige shakes her head in disbelief, kissing my thigh softly. “Gonna make it mine, baby. I swear.” 

She’s leaning in at that, running her tongue up through my folds with the softest lick that makes my eyes roll instantly. I toss my head onto the pillows, letting her grip my inner thighs as she speeds up. 

“Pussy tastes fuckin’ incredible, mama. So sweet.” Paige groans, lapping at my cunt like she hasn’t eaten in ages. Her lips wrapping around my clit, tongue running on the underside of it. She’s a fucking pro, garnering reactions that I’ve never had before.

My fingers grip the sheets beside me, back arching off the bed. “God, P. F—uck!” I croak, my moans coming out louder and louder as she eats me dry. “Shit, baby.”

Paige’s free hand is reaching for mine, releasing the sheets from my grip and replacing it with her own. She interlaces my fingers and that’s when I shoot up, looking down at her with my jaw slack. 

I watch her, my wetness coating her mouth and the tip of her nose, her tongue licking up and down my folds and teeth nipping at my clit gently. It makes me mewl, her name and curses of pleasure the only thing I can give her. 

She was sloppy—messy and unrefined in a way that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did. Paige’s mouth was nothing like the careful precision I had expected from her. Instead, it’s driven by pure want, a raw, desperate hunger that has my legs trembling around her head and my hips bucking into her mouth.

She has me feeling nothing but wanted. Wanted and wanted and wanted.

Paige pulls back for air, biting at her lips that are completely covered in my slick. She spits on me with nothing but filth. Watching as the trail slips past the folds of my cunt and past my asshole, she blows on it, the cool air making me shudder and squeeze her hand even harder. 

“Oh! Keep going, baby. I can take it.” I groan, pulling her closer to my throbbing pussy.

“Gon’ take it just for me?” 

“For you, P. Just for you.” 

She suckles on my clit once more, “could die eating you, baby. Just fuckin’ perfect, Raye.” She pants. 

“Fuck,” I breathe, my head tipping back as Paige nudges her teeth around my clit, sucking hard, pinning her palm to my hips to hold me steady. “Paige, you—oh my God—”

Paige hums against my pussy, and the vibration sends a jolt of pleasure through me that makes me cry out, my hips bucking again. 

I can’t decide which was more overwhelming—the relentless pressure of her mouth, her eyes staring up at me, or the sheer dedication she put into it, like nothing else in the world mattered but getting me off.

Then her warm tongue was dipping into me for a second, fucking into me with precision, curling up in search of my spot. My hand flies to her hair, tugging the soft locks between my fingers, holding her face between my legs for a second. My legs shake warningly, that knot in my abdomen feels like it’s seconds away from snapping.

“You’re so fuckin’ good at this,” I manage, my voice breaking on the words as Paige’s eyes flutter shut while she all but made out with my cunt. “How are you so—shit—so good at this?”

Her chuckle vibrates through me, and the blonde pulls back to apply pressure to my clit with her fingers, licking her lips clean. “Ion think you want me to answer that, ma.”

She doesn’t even look at me, simply scissoring my folds apart and diving back into me. She’s right, I don’t want to know, so I let myself fall into her skilled tongue. My control slips, the confident front I’ve been trying to keep all day slipping into vulnerability. 

I gasp, squeezing her hand as tight as I could. My eyes roll once again, “P, I’m gonna—”

“Cum in my mouth, pretty,” Paige moans into me, her voice muffled but insistent, large and veiny hand pressing into my hip to keep me in place.

The words sent me tumbling over the edge. My entire body tensing and back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashes over me, pulling a strangled moan from her lips. I swear the world went white for a moment, every nerve in my body alight with sensation. Paige laps it all up, my cum pooling on her tongue.

She fucks me through it, her tongue slowing down and sucking coming to a stop. When Paige looks at me, hair all mussed and lips swollen, chains and earrings still dancing in the light— I decide right there that this is actually the hottest she’s ever looked. All decorated in the aftermath of my sex. Looking like this for me.

She licks her lips clean before kissing from my thighs up my abdomen. She licks at my navel, tugging my piercing between her teeth. 

Paige continues up my body, suckling on the inside of my breast until another hickey forms, dark purple against the brown of my skin. “I’m gonna be livin’ between your legs from now on. Fuckin’ perfect.” She grins, leaning up to attach our lips.

I groan against her lips, pulling my hand away from hers to unbuckle the belt that holds her jeans. “You’re so good.” I praise, popping open the button on them. 

“Fuck you good?” She responds, helping me out and tugging down her jeans and her boxers simultaneously. “Needa feel you on me. Need that shit.”

I break the kiss, feeling my heart beat so harsh in my chest. I curl my fingers into the band of her bra, and Paige raises her arms to help me get it off. 

My eyes immediately fall to her chest, her supple tits and pink nipples. She’s breathtaking, and I want nothing more to wrap my lips around them and suck. I trail to her abs, practically shocked that a woman could look this fucking amazing in front of me. They dip even lower to her cunt which is positively soaked. 

I can’t help but grin because I know it’s all for me. “Come get it, baby.”

Before I know it Paige wraps her arms around my hips, mirroring my smile as she flips us over settling her back against the headboard as I straddle her.

It’s right then when I get to see all of her. Legs spread apart for me, so fucking wet that I swear we’re both about to leave this bed a dripping mess. Her thighs are so damn muscular.

I let my mind drift to what it would feel like riding them.

Paige grips my thighs, throwing my right leg over hers and slotting our legs together. My eyes go wide, watching my legs tremble with I don’t know what. Nervousness, excitement, arousal. 

“You okay? We don’t have to do anything else, I promise.” Paige looks up at me with crystalline blue eyes. Her hand running up and down my thigh, the other gripping my side and trailing her thumb over my rib tattoo.

“No, I want to.” I brush her off, looking down at how our cunts are slotted together, inches away from touching. 

Paige bites her lip, running a hand back to grip my ass and tug me closer. “Put that pussy on me then. Ride me, ma.” She instructs.

I’m nearly falling out at the raunchiness of her words. I’d be an idiot to not listen to her, especially when she looks at me like I’m a piece of meat.

I grip the edge of the headboard with one hand, the other gripping her shoulder as I roll my hips down to meet her cunt. I gasp at how fucking soaked she is against me. “Oh fuck, P.” I stutter, feeling her clit press up against me.

“You’re so damn pretty, Raye. Fuck— oh my God.” Paige’s head hits the headboard, a moan tumbling past her lips. Loud, and it’s easily the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard. “Look how fuckin’ wet you get for me, soakin’ me up, baby.”

Her hands grip my hips, forcing my hips back and forth against her, grinding my cunt against her in the exact rhythm she wants. 

“Oh. Oh—mmph—yeahhhh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” I whine, feeling that tension in my stomach, already overstimulated from my last orgasm.

Paige meets me halfway, bucking her hips up at me and I feel that inevitable connection that comes with the throb of her clit. “Shit. Shit, ma! This pussy fuckin’ perfect, baby.”

She’s matching my rhythm, fucking me back with fervent bucks of her hips. My nails dig into her shoulders, darting my head down to look at where we connected.

I’ve never in my life felt something this good before. It’s so intimate. The way she holds me and talks to me and feels every little thing that I’m feeling too. I don’t want to stop, I want to keep going, laying up with her all fucking night if I could.

“P—aige! ‘S so good, baby.” 

“Fuck!” She shouts. “So close. You’re doin’ fuckin’ amazing baby.” Paige encourages. She sends a slap to my ass and I keep going for that feeling. That look of euphoria and approval that makes me wanna ride her better and harder and faster. 

I’m louder than I’ve ever been before, growing closer and closer to that peak. “So wet, P.” I hiccup, my eyes glued to the wetness between the both of us, how I’m damn near slipping from how much she’s giving me.

“I know. Can hear it, angel.” Paige moans, digging her nails into the skin of my ass. “So messy, huh? Just creamin’ for me, Raye. Gonna make me cum.” 

“Baby.” I cry, throwing my head back as that same feeling from earlier returns. I think I might explode.

She reaches for my neck, squeezing her hand around my throat and I’m losing concentration. It’s so hard to stay focused when she’s choking me like that, pulling my attention back to her and her fucked out face. If it wasn’t for the pleasure I felt in my core I could’ve probably come from that alone.

“Gimme one.” She groans. “Cum with me, ma. Need that shit. Need that cum all over my pussy. We almost there, c’mon.”

“Oh my— fuck. Fuck!” A scream rips through my throat, and I’m following through, clutching my hand on hers around my neck. Paige’s mouth falls open, pretty, high pitched cries leaving her lips as we finish together. I think both of us saw stars.

I can’t even control the sounds that leave me, mewls and cries and curses that make me mimic a damn sailor. Between the both of us, I can only hope we don’t run into anyone else on her hotel floor because if they didn't hear me before, they definitely heard us just now. 

My legs shake and the second Paige releases my neck I’m trembling into her hold, feeling light-headed after drowning in pleasure like that. She wraps her arms around my waist, nestling her lips against my cheek as I catch my breath.

I can feel her heart beating against mine, her breathing mimicking my own. Her body is so warm against me, it’s a feeling that I never want to get rid of. I think I could spend the rest of forever like this, holding me and kissing me just like this.

I don’t even dare move my legs away from hers. Instead, I turn my head, kissing her in a suffocating kiss that she whimpers into before kissing me back, licking at my tongue and gripping my ass. 

“We’re doing that all the time, baby. Holy shit.” I sigh. Paige chuckles into my mouth, biting my lip and tugging it back.

She just knows exactly how to get me worked up, how to get my heart racing, my mind running in laps, and my cunt dripping for her. 

“Jus’ wait. Got so much more to teach you.”

—

“Swear, Imma knock you up one day.” I grumble in Raye’s ear, running my free hand over her tits and the hickeys I’ve made sure to leave there all night. She might have to wear a turtleneck to the All-Star game tomorrow night because there’s no way she’s gonna be able to cover them all.

She probably takes me for a joke. Which is fine. But in my head, if you got rid of all the anatomical inaccuracies that would make it physically impossible, I am certain that the way she’s been making me feel all night is more than enough for me to fuck her dumb and get her pregnant with my kid. That’s how fucking good she’s been.

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits. Swear.” I sigh in disbelief. Maraye is gorgeous. Has been since the second I laid eyes on her through the TV. Gorgeous in sweats and a stained t-shirt, in a floor length gown, in a mini skirt that gives so little to my imagination. But seeing her naked, like this, gets a reaction out of me that is anything but holy. 

Her back is hot and sweaty against my chest, soft groans escaping her mouth as my fingers toy with her clit from behind. 

The minute Raye stood in front of me, stripping her clothes and pushing her tits in my face. Her body glowing int the hotel light as she begged me to ‘teach her,’ I knew it was fucking game over.

I’ve made it my mission to make each experience worthwhile with everything I did to her tonight. Dragging her into the shower and letting her sink to her knees as she ate me out, I swear she was lying about having never done it before because she made me cum so hard I almost passed out. I took her again as soon as we got out, bending her over the sink and fucking my fingers so deep that she was squirting on the floor. 

She rode my abs when we got back in bed, covering them in her own cream and then shocking me by licking it all off. I decided then that I need her again and again and again, in every possible way that I could have her.

Which brings us to right now. I circle her clit over and over, splaying my other hand over her stomach and tucking my head into her neck to watch. Strings of her slick sticking to my fingertips that I pull back for her to see. 

“You been such a good girl for me tonight, takin’ everything I give you.” I coo against her skin. “My perfect angel.” I hum.

“Paige, just—mm— just like that.” I keep going, slow and deliberate circles because I know that anything else might send her thrashing against my body on the hotel chair.

“Yeah? You like that?” I whisper, kissing her neck in a much different manner than the one in which I’m touching her with. I spread her folds with my index and ring fingers, teasing her hole with my middle. “Don’t even need to get ‘em wet. You did it for me, ma.”

I sink my finger inside, relishing in the way she swallows up my whole finger and coats in arousal. Raye can take more, I know she can, I saw her take nearly my whole hand an hour ago. But I’m being gentle, so one is enough for now.

She tosses her head against my shoulder panting heavily, as if her throat won’t let her moan the way she wants to. She’s so damn soaked, the sound of my finger slowly sliding in and out bounces off the walls. I can feel it dripping out of her, down her ass and drenching my legs through my plaid boxers.

Raye curls her arm around my head, pulling me closer to her neck. I bite my lip, curling them deep inside into her spot. “Ah! Baby, baby! God, right there.” She squeals, digging her nails into my nape.

“You’re so damn beautiful, angel. Jus’ taking me so good.” I nod, holding her body as close as possible so I get that perfect look. That perfect view of her pretty cunt when I slip in a second finger.

That’s what gets her to thrash on my lap, attempting to shut her legs from me but I hold them open. Raye cries out my name, over and over and over again like a prayer. “Don’t fuckin’ stop. Please, m’ so close,” she moans.

“Stretchin’ you out so good, yeah? Gotta get you ready for me. Strap you so good when we get back. Do you so good, ma, I swear.” I speak gently.

I know her tells flawlessly now, how she lets her mouth fall open with nothing but choppy breaths passing into the air. How she grips on anything, eyes rolling into her skull. She’s close, about to make a mess on the last clean surface in the room but I don’t care.

Raye tips her head towards me, chasing my lips with her own. I let her, locking our lips in a slow kiss that feels just like the first time. Her tongue navigates my mouth, her teeth clashing with mine. She’s moaning haphazardly into my mouth, getting distracted by my fingers.

It fills me with a sense of pride I’ve never felt before.

“Wanna ruin it, Raye.” I groan, sucking her bottom lip before pulling back. “It’s mine, yeah?”

She nods rapidly, her legs shake and her moans make my ears ring. “Paige!” Maraye drags out my name, making me feel on top of the whole fucking world.

“This my pussy, ma? All me?”

“Shit. It’s y-yours. I promise.” I rut my fingers inside faster, attempting to ignore the sting in my arm. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” She hiccups. Her cunt squeezes me tight, and I know she’s right there.

“Gimme that shit, Raye. Make a mess for me, baby. I need that.” I murmur, “Y’know I’m right here. Just gimme that.” 

A cry tears through her mouth, the loudest she’s been all night. Raye’s eyes are glued shut and she’s coming again. I never want it to end, if it were up to me, I’d take her out on the balcony right now but I know her. She’s trembling.

I ease my fingers out slowly, wrapping my arm tighter around her waist and circling her clit to work her through it. 

When she finally comes down, her body trembling and her chest heaving, I don’t pull away immediately. I stay right where I am, gently kissing at her ear and mumbling sweet nothings. My touch softened as I helped Raye ride out the aftershocks.

“Fuck,” Raye finally breathes, her voice hoarse and unsteady. She lets out a breathless laugh, her hands falling to the sides of the armrests as she stares up at the ceiling in an attempt to find her thoughts again. “You ever fuck someone else like that, I swear to fucking God, I’ll kill you.”

I can’t help but grin against her skin. It’s completely Maraye, something only she could do after sex. She curls into hold, wrapping both arms around my neck and I let her, anything that lets me get her close like this. 

“You remember what I said about making you mine tonight?” I ask, tracing circles on her lower back.

She nods. “Is that not what you just did for the last four hours?” A breathy sigh escaping her mouth. 

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I laugh. Suddenly all the air in my lungs is missing, the words I want to say getting lodged in my throat. Raye has this way of making me forget that I’m probably the most confident person on the planet. “I—um, I want you to be my girlfriend. Just me and you, Raye.”

I watch her eyes go wide as she tugs her t-shirt back over her exposed upper body. “Wh- you don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Do you?”

“No! No, I just, are you sure?”

“Am I sure that I want you as my girlfriend? Are you kidding?” I adjust her position in my lap, helping her get settled on my lap with her face to mine. She presses her palms on my bare chest, those eyes glued to mine with the slightest smile. “Yes. I want you. Only you, Raye. I don’t care if it’s too soon, ‘cause I’ve spent the last two and a half months waiting for you to be mine. I’m making you my girl. Who gives a fuck if it’s too s—”

She cuts me off without hesitation, I think I might go drunk from how many times she’s kissed me tonight. Raye starts with soft pecks, each one causing a groan to slip past me. “Yeah.”

“Mm– yeah what, angel?” I ask, smiling all against her lips. “Gotta say it.”

She breaks the kiss, smiling right back, all teeth and gums and I think she looks fucking beautiful. “Yes, Paige. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

—

September 2025 — London, England, United Kingdom 

“So, what’s your type?” Amelia asks me, popping a fry into her mouth. She sits across from me in this booth at Morley’s Chicken, cameras surrounding the both of us. “Y’know, other than blonde and pretty with blue eyes.”

I have to hold back my giggle, because this is her thing. She flirts with all her guests while also seemingly trying to get little bits of information from my life. That’s why I know she’s describing herself, and not the girlfriend that waits for me at home in LA.

Home. A place where love is nurtured and bloomed, a place that I now can only ever associate with Paige. She’s perfect, patient, communicative, funny, slightly annoying but in a way that makes her comfortable and charming. She’s my home now.

“That’s exactly my type, actually.” I nod, wrapping my lips around the straw of my fruit punch juice box. “To a T.”

“Really?” Amelia’s accent sticks out to me immediately, making me giggle. “What’s funny?”

“I like your accent.” I say. “But yea, that’s exactly my type.” I repeat, trying my hardest to fight the growing smirk on my lips. When this episode is edited and Paige sees it, I just know she’s going to be all smiles.

Amelia nods, a posh grin and an adorable shrug of her shoulders being sent my way. “Well obviously. You wouldn’t be on a date with me then, I suppose. You are just seeing me right?” She continues with the bit.

“Of course.”

I let my mind wander off to Paige the minute I say that. It’s early here, which means she’s probably asleep back in LA. Cuddled under the covers of my bed that is slowly becoming our bed. At the apartment with my name on it but clothes and shoes and snacks that could only belong to Paige. She’d woven her way into my life, into my home, into my music. So that even now, when I’m countries away, and talking about my music career, she’s all I can think about. Because there was nothing like being with Paige. 

And I got to call her mine.

All mine.

[shockercoco]

A House to a Home

Austin Butler x reader

Warnings - some suggestion, lighthearted, fluff

Word count - 1926

a/n - request: “i don’t know if you’re taking request but what about the reader & austin moving into their first house together? reader is so hellbent on unpacking and getting everything out together but someone has other ideas” - this was such a good idea tysm! i hope you all enjoy :)

“Where do you plan on putting these?” Austin asks, looking over at you with a handful of your knick-knacks in his hands.

“I’m not sure yet, I’ll figure it out later,” you respond as you go to open up another box.

You still can’t process the fact that you’re actually moving in with him — that the two of you are owning a home together. The two of you have been dating for about a year and a half, and it was Austin’s idea that you move in with him.

He had just come back home after one of his meetings, and he had found you standing in his walk-in closet trying to figure out how to organize it. He didn’t even say ‘hi’ to you, he just blurted out the question, causing you to turn around and give him a speechless look. 

You were iffy at first because you’ve never lived with someone else after you moved out of your parent’s house – you’ve never even had a roommate so you wondered how it would be to go back to no longer living alone. You also wondered if the two of you were moving too fast. You were both adults and had been dating for long enough without too many problems, so it makes sense that Austin would want to take the next step.

But, that would mean moving into a large home in the hills of LA, where a lot of other celebrities and influencers lived. Did you belong in an area like that? Did you even deserve to live in such a nice part of LA just because you were dating a famous person, even though you yourself weren't rich or famous?

What if the two of you just happened to break up and you no longer had a place to stay?

Austin had seen the panic in your face and was quick to reassure you that you didn’t have to give him an answer right that moment. That you could take all the time that you needed and he would be patiently waiting for your answer.

How could you say no to a face like that, though?

You don’t say no, which is why you didn’t.

“And this?” Austin raises an eyebrow at you, holding in a laugh as he holds up one of the stuffed animals you packed.

You playfully roll your eyes before grabbing a pillow from his bed and throwing it at his head. Austin dodges it, though, using the stuffed animal as a shield.

“Put him down,” you laugh.

“Him?” He gives you a look. “Your stuffed animal is a ‘him’?”

You continue to laugh as you walk towards him and snatch the plushie out of his hand. “Why are you jealous?” you joke.

“Of course not, there’s nothing to be jealous of,” Austin snickers and goes to bend down to retrieve something else out of a box, but stops when he sees you toss the stuffed animal onto his bed. “What are you doing?”

“He needs a place to stay too,” you giggle as you walk into the closest to begin putting some of your clothes away.

“And he’ll find one, just not here,” you hear his voice say from behind you, but you continue your task.

You manage to fill up the majority of your side of the closest before deciding to take a break and move onto something else. Walking out, you expect to see the bedroom with more decoration, but instead all you see is Austin on the floor, going through your box of books.

“Have you done anything in the past 45 minutes?” You ask, your hands on your hips.

“Of course I have. I’ve managed to read one page from almost all of these,” he answers, motioning to the box in front of him, “and I gotta say, some of these are a little spicy. No wonder you’re always reading.”

Your eyes widen as you quickly take the book in his hands away from him, put it inside the box with the rest, and move the box out into the hallway. You’re an adult and you're allowed to read whatever you want, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling embarrassed because some of the books are really dirty.

Austin chuckles as he watches you. “You know, sweetheart, you don’t need any of these books as your source of pleasure, that’s what I’m here for.”

“That’s not what I use them for,” you mumble as you step back into the room.

“Oh, really?” Austin raises an eyebrow at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Y’know, while you’re so focused on me, you could use some of that energy to actually get some of these boxes empty,” you huff, standing above another full box of items.

“But I’m supposed to be focused on you, am I not?” Austin asks, tilting his head in full confusion.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” you tell him.

“Alright, alright. What do you want me to do?” Austin questions, standing up from his spot on the floor to look at the mess scattered around the bedroom floor.

“Stop taking breaks, and unpack,” you emphasize, shoving a box into Austin’s chest. He stumbles back, but takes the box from your hands.

You leave him in the bedroom, heading towards the kitchen for a change of scenery — and so you don’t strangle Austin.

The house is still pretty empty, except for some small things and decor. The rest of your furniture was supposed to arrive today, but everything got delayed. It had upset you at first, but hey, what can you do? Besides, this gives you a chance to fully admire the home before you completely make it yours. 

You head into the kitchen to begin putting the dishware and kitchenware up where they belong. Surprisingly, the majority of it is Austin’s, given the fact he likes to cook, and you don’t really know how.

When you come across a mug Austin had bought you while he’s out of the country on a press tour, you can’t help but take a second to admire it.

You and him both know that you don’t really use them and that you just like to collect them because they look pretty.

Honestly, how did you ever get so lucky with a man like him? What did he see in you all those months ago when he had seen you on set? You were part of the crew, and that day Austin had been invited on set to meet the director. Of course, you thought he was cute, but you didn’t think anything could actually happen between the two of you – which is why Austin made the first move instead of you.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t hear Austin’s footsteps enter the kitchen. You feel him come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

“You told me to stop taking breaks, but look at you. You’re in here daydreaming,” Austin says.

“I get to because I’m actually doing my job and putting things away,” you tell him.

“Hey, I did put some things away,” Austin feigns hurt. “What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, placing the mug into the cabinet with the rest of the cups.

“Okay, let’s try again, but this time you actually tell me the truth?”

“Austin…” you sigh. You’re not really in the mood to pour out your feelings.

“No, don’t ‘Austin” me. Tell me,” he insists, giving you a light squeeze as encouragement. You breathe out another sigh as you contemplate whether you should tell the truth or not. When you take too long to decide, you feel Austin remove his head from your shoulder and turn you around to face him. He raises an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue.

You just decide to say, “I’m just in my head is all.”

That’s all you needed to say for Austin to understand what you meant. “Sweetheart, I’ve already told you several times there’s no need to overthink.”

“I know, I know,” you nod.

“Do you?” Austin asks, dipping his head down so his eyes could meet yours.

“Yes, I do,” you reply, giving him a soft smile to try and reassure him.

“Okay…” Austin squints his eyes, not completely believing you, but he decides to move on. For now. Then he adds, “but just so you know I have no problem reassuring you.”

Your jaw drops as you hit him across the chest, causing him to smile. “And since we’re both doing such a good job with everything, I think we should take another break. I’m tired,” he continues.

You playfully scoff. “Of course you are. How about you go rest, while I continue,” you answer and go to move out of his grasp, but Austin just tightens his hold on your waist.

“Why don’t you join me?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

“Come on, baby,” Austin whines.

“No,” you laugh. You place your hands over his and try to pull them off of you, but again, no use.

“Okay, how about we do something else then?” Austin suggests, his voice getting lower as he begins to kiss the side of your neck.

“I thought you said you were tired,” you recall as you turn your head the best you can to get a good look at him.

“I am,” he tells you. You raise an eyebrow at him, already knowing he’s not finished. Austin then hovers his lips over the shell of your ear and whispers, “I’m tired of unpacking.”

You playfully shove him off of you, and this time he lets you. “Well, maybe if we get everything finished by the time the sun goes down, I’ll let you have what you want,” you offer, suppressing your smile as you move to the other side of the kitchen to tackle some of the boxes over there. 

“Y’know that is a good idea, but I have a better one,” you hear Austin say behind you, before you feel him grab your arm and spin you back towards him. A surprised gasp leaves your lips along with a giggle as your chest collides with his. “How about I just have what I want now?”

Before you could get another word out, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, already making his way in the direction of the bedroom.

“Oh come on!” you shout as you're turned upside down. You don’t put up much of a fight, as you allow Austin to drag you away.

“What? I gotta reassure you that you’re what I want,” you hear him say.

Once inside the bedroom, Austin plops you down onto the bed. As you start to crawl back towards the headboard, he just pulls you back down by the ankle.

“You’re such a bad influence,” you point out, your tone light. 

“And so are you,” Austin smirks as he begins to crawl over you. 

Just as his lips are about to connect with yours, you place a finger on his lips as something out of the corner of your eye catches your attention.

“Austin?”

“Yeah?” his eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

“Why is my stuffed animal on the floor?”

“He wasn’t invited. That is unless you enjoy being watched, but I didn’t peg you for the type, baby,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Ew, quit it,” you lightly give his chest a shove.

“Wait a second, I didn’t hear you deny it,” Austin raises an eyebrow.

like what you see? check out my masterlist :)

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) Part II

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons.

genre: social media au, angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

part i

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

September, 2026

[Excerpt from Kelly Clarkson interview with Y/N]

“We’re so excited to have y/n l/n with us today, I can’t get your latest song out of my head. It’s really such a great revival of the sultry pop ballads,” Kelly says joyously, and y/n can’t help but smile.

“Thank you! That means a lot coming from you – I grew up watching you on American Idol, I can’t believe I’m even sitting across from you now.”

“Oh my god, stop! You’re gonna make me feel real old. Congratulations again on your Grammy for your sophomore album, All I Ever Needed. How did it feel going into your new project with that in the back of your mind?”

Y/N shuffles uncomfortably on the couch. “Hmm thank you. I – well, it was really different. The songs I wrote on there were coming from this feeling of bliss which was fading fast by the time the Grammy’s rolled around. I had to figure out what kind of artist I am if I’m not in love, or writing about happiness. It felt embarrassing. I don’t like being vulnerable, but I love sharing love. So it was hard for me, not gonna lie. But I’m happy that we got there in the end.”

“Wow, well I was able to listen to a few other songs on this record. I gotta say, I think it’s by far your best record yet. And did you write on all of the songs this time around again?”

Y/N nods her head, a small smile creeping back up on her face. “Yeah, I did. It turns out that writing about sad things can be really cathartic. But I really want people to know that it doesn’t mean this isn’t an album about love. At the end of the day, each of these songs are love letters to every single moment or person that made me feel something – for better or worse.”

early October, 2026

[Transcription of Capital FM segment with Y/N]

“We’ve got Y/N L/N with us here on Capital FM, and we’re about to play a quick round of Never Have I Ever! Are you ready?”

Y/N smiles, holding a paddle with “I Have” and “I Have Never”. “Sure, as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Great! Now first one: Never have I ever… regifted a gift someone bought me.”

“Ooooh, not a gift someone bought me. But things I have been sent or given in goodie bags I’ve definitely regifted,” Y/N says, and raises the “I Have Never” paddle.  

“That’s alright! I think that’s not too bad. In fact, I’d volunteer to get something regifted from you,” the host laughs. “I usually donate it, but next time I’ll keep you in mind!”

“Perfect. Next one: Never have I ever slid into someone’s DMs”

Y/N rolls her eyes and raises the “I Have” paddle. “Who hasn’t? If people say they haven’t, they’re just lying to you.”

“Who’s the most famous person who’s ever been in your DMs?” The host asks, and Y/N laughs. “Hmm Taylor Swift, maybe?”

“You’re good friends, aren’t you?” Y/N nods. “Yeah, I actually wrote ‘how did it end?’ during a studio session with her.”

“Hmm that brings me to the next question – never have I ever written a song about an ex.”

Again, Y/N raises the “I Have” paddle, but then twists it so it’s halfway. “I think sometimes, no scratch that, I think almost always songs work way better when they’re open for interpretation. Isn’t it nice how everyone can take something else from it, that way?”

“Have you ever gotten back together with an ex?” The host asks, and Y/N makes a ‘tsk’ noise. “Never! First rule in the book, or so my friends tell me all the time.”

"Even when the heart wants what it wants?"

"Even then."

mid October, 2026

[Excerpt from Call Her Daddy episode with Y/N]

“I think in many ways this album is the most naked I’ve ever felt in my emotions. But maybe that’s actually a good thing,” Y/N grins.

“They do say that sex sells,” Alex (Cooper) responds, and Y/N chuckles. “You’ll find hardly any of that on this album.”

“That’s not entirely true, there’s a song on there with some explicit lyrics,” she adds.

“Undrunk? Funnily enough, that one was probably one of the easier ones to write because it actually felt the furthest removed from myself? It’s inspired by, but not based on my own experiences. I’d say it’s my unlived life,” Y/N tries to explain.

“Talk to me about that. People are always quite eager to pinpoint all experiences of a celebrity. They know who you’ve dated, look for clues and dissect every lyric. How do you decide what to share and what not to share?”

“I think it’s sort of why I wanted to share ‘how did it end?’. Even the title track is me addressing the fact that everyone feels entitled to determine my love story. Including me, I think everyone tries to engineer or hack happiness at one point in their life. But it doesn’t work like that. And at the same time, it’s important for me to try and have some semblance of control over my own narrative, my feelings, my sense of self. And that also goes for the people whose presence in my life inspired me to write these songs. For better or worse, I’m grateful for it.”

Alex smirks. “Look, we can’t avoid the topic here. We all know that one of those people is Formula One driver Lando Norris. He’s also got a lot of very dedicated fans, who’ve been clamoring under every post of yours to leave him alone ever since you started dating. How did, and do you deal with that? It would have been easy to erase him from your social media, once the relationship ended, but you chose not to do that. Was that a conscious decision on your end, or something you ever discussed?”

Y/N takes a sip of water, and purses her lips. “I kinda feel like it’s just not really my place to expand on that – it’s between Lando and his fans. Like, it actually has nothing to do with me, I feel. If people are surprised I didn’t delete like three photos, it’s just because I like them – it’s not that deep. I can still cherish good moments, even when they’re in the past. I’m not embarrassed or ashamed of the fact that my ex was part of my life. But it’s not for me to comment on it beyond that. He’s well within his rights to want to delete them, and he doesn’t need to explain to anyone – not to me, not to his fans, anyone why he did it.”

“But it’s more than that. It does seem to imply he doesn’t like the association. And yet you referenced him in the video for “Jaded”. It’s caused some controversy,” she prods a little more.

Y/N snorts. “I was just paying homage to my co-writer, and her iconic 7 Things video. But it’s also partly me taking that ownership. A video is one of the few spaces where you can set the scene. If I wanted to expand on it, I’d have done it through art. People will be mad either way, and the props don’t add anything you can’t already infer from the lyrics.”

“Has he listened to it?”

“Have you?” Y/N counters. Alex smiles, then moves on.

end of October, 2026

[The Independent excerpt]

Y/N L/N reveals tracklist to her third album as anticipation grows!

An obvious contender for the BRITs, is what the first reviews are saying about L/N's latest record “Jaded”. The LP will arrive in just two weeks, but up until today we did not know the exact runtime of the highly anticipated album. After posting to her Instagram, Y/N L/N revealed that the regular version of The Prophecy will count 12 tracks, with the deluxe edition raising that to a comfortable 16. Fans will surely be delighted to know that they can purchase various versions, all contributing to what is looking to be a very easy chart victory.

Talking to Jimmy Fallon earlier this week, L/N stated that she hopes her fans will listen to the album in its running order. “I know it’s really tempting to skip straight to your favourite, but I spent ages ruminating over how to tell my story in the best way – so I hope that translates.”

So far, all official singles of “The Prophecy” have charted both in the Official Top 20 as well as the Billboard Top 40, with The Heart Want What It Wants peaking on top, and Jaded just outside the top 10 at #11.

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥ I was soooooo happily surprised by the response to the previous part that I hurried up to post this :) Any comments, likes, reblogs, asks are super appreciated. ♥ Part III is now available here, it'll be four six parts in total. for those interested, official tracklist songs

how did it end? - Taylor Swift / The Heart Wants What It Wants - Selena Gomez / Jaded - Miley Cyrus / Lie to Girls - Sabrina Carpenter / Breakeven - The Script / The Prophecy - Taylor Swift / Stay - Gracie Abrams / Science + Faith - The Script / Moral of the Story ft. Niall Horan - Ashe / Undrunk - Fletcher / Vertigo - Griff / No More Sad Songs - Little Mix / Paper Hearts - Tori Kelly / Into You - Julia Michaels / Supercut - Lorde / Genesis - Dua Lipa Link to a playlist here

[miintsprigz]

Mercs x GN! reader who drew them (ALL NINE!)

This goes out to everyone, not just my artists.

But yes, all my fic material is extremely self-serving.

Big thank you to a dear friend of mine for helping me with mercs like Pyro, Engie, Sniper, and Medic when I got stuck.

VERY LONG POST INCOMING

Scout

• Well, he IS an artist himself, that’s probably how the two of you first started talking.

• Ran past one day, only to immediately throw it in reverse and go “hey whoa whoa whoa when were you gonna tell me you could draw?!”

•Naturally…it was only a matter of time.

•He was always so encouraging about your stuff, so…after working up the guts, you showed him.

• “Yo wait a sec…you drew me??? I…” For once in his life, he’s at a loss for words. He’s never been drawn—not even a self-portrait. For as cocky as he seems…well…

•He just…stares for a second. Marveling. Is that…really what I look like?

• “Do you like it?” “Abso-friggin-lutely, (Y/N)!!! You kiddin’? I don’t even look that beautiful in real life! And ya know, that’s sayin’ somethin!”

•You laugh, and he pulls you in so fast to hug you that you weren’t even ready. “But seriously…thank you. I’ve uh…I’ve never been drawn before. You did amazing. …you know I gotta draw you now, right?”

•And he does. He’s a complete perfectionist about it—he feels like he can’t replicate you, you’re one of a kind. (He actually does very well! But he’s so shy showing it to you…d’aww.)

Pyro

•Pyro was more of a doodler than anything. They loved color. And of course, you could resonate with that.

•Sometimes you’d draw designs and let them color it in. They giggled all the while…they just adored how creative you were.

•Being the most secretive about their appearance, they’re hard to nail down…even for you. Pyro is most themself in their full gear. You, out of everyone, know that best.

•So you took a…different approach. Abstraction.

•Their hands, the ones that so often seemed to be magnetically drawn to you.

•Their back, the strong shoulders when they just felt content to sit in the quiet with you.

•The brief glimpses you’d caught of their face—split second instances in shadows—those were easy, yet challenging. Their brief sightings made them easy to be abstract about, and yet, it made them harder to actually nail down.

•Conjuring a rather fittingly smoky composition, it had a dreamlike feel to it. Pure Pyro.

•You were only a bit hesitant to show them, but when they did see…they surprised you a bit.

•You could see them straighten up a bit…surprised. They craned their neck a bit, looking closer, gently curling their fingers over yours to hold the snapshot-like portraits with you.

• “Hmmm…” There was a sort of…tranquility to them. So unlike your little sparky fella.

• “Do you like them?” Immediately, the edge of their mask bumped against your forehead—your own personal way of kissing. That was all the answer you needed.

•They couldn’t verbalize it, but…seeing beauty in images of themself. The same beauty they saw all around them…it made them see themself in a way they never had before.

•And of course, it made them fall even deeper in love with you, the one who cared for them so much that they took the time to look so deeply.

Heavy

•Heavy is a very intelligent man, but he’s never had much gift for creative work. Even his insults were kind of just the same thing repeated, when the other mercs made it an art form.

•So he couldn’t help but be enraptured by your artistic endeavors and how much work you put into them.

•He loved to see you covered in your medium of choice, your passion for it. Made him lovesick. How lovely you were doing what you loved.

•If he could paint, he would have wanted to paint that. So he could look at it forever.

•So of course, imagine his delight when you decided to draw him!

• That roaring laugh you so enjoyed boomed immediately, just elated.

•“Ohhhh…look at that! You captured me perfectly! Beautiful!” You couldn’t help but beam with pride.

•“Can Heavy keep this?” “Of course you can, hon.” This warranted a sudden barrage of kisses to your face, which cracked you up of course.

•“Very happy to have such talented artist as yourself to love. But to me? You are most beautiful. In all the world.” Despite being more eloquent in his native language, Heavy could still get you to turn red. “Oh gosh…” “Is true!”

Demoman

•Tavish had always been a pretty sentimental fellow. He really did enjoy artwork, but didn’t talk about it much.

•Once he discovered that you were an artist, he was over the moon. Finally, he felt, he could talk to someone about art without them possibly poking fun.

•He’d never go in your sketchbook unless you allowed him to, but he always looked with such admiration in his eyes. “That’s bloody brilliant. So long as ya luv it, never stop doin’ this. Cuz I’ll never stop lookin.”

•One day, you told him you had a surprise for it. “I dunno if I like surprises…” “Oh trust me, Demo,” you chirped, “I think you’ll like this one.”

•As you held up the finished product, his mouth went agape. Almost instantly, he began to smile.

•“Well aren’t you just the sweetest!! That’s me there???” “Yes, love. I uh, I hope that you like it.” His gaze shifted over to you, and you could see his eye had grown somewhat misty.

•Demo was at a loss for words. He had never thought of himself as particularly good-looking, certainly not good enough to be drawn. And yet. You had drawn him. Drawn him very well. And he liked how he looked. Was that how you saw him?

•“Aw, Tav…you okay??” He blinked quick, trying to keep composed.“Never better…c’mere, you…”

•Wrapping his arms around you, he gave you a kiss, just about taking your breath away.

•“My little artist…ya made me look so good.” You caught him rubbing his eye a bit. “I just drew what I saw.” “Well, ya see a work of art in me. And that? That’s the best surprise of all.”

Engineer

•With how much designing went into his machines, Dell could always appreciate the skills of an artist. So when he learned that you were one, well, that only sweetened an already sweet deal.

•You were a little self-conscious at first about him watching you work. You tended to just work parallel to one another, both lost in your own stuff.

•You’d sometimes stop what you were doing to follow his hands as he put the pieces together, fingers wandering as they looked for the correct tool.

•When the inverse happened though—when Engie watched you work—he admired your spontaneity. You could start off with a total wild card and somehow managed to pull it all together and make it work, in a way he never could have come up with.

•Being rather rigid in his own trade, that was something Dell couldn’t help but be dazzled by. Very smart man for sure, but rather by-the-book. Not like you. He saw genius in the way your mind worked.

•So, one day, as the two of you perused each other’s handiwork a bit, you shyly revealed the piece you’d made of him—hard at work on an updated sentry model.

•His lips parted a little like he was about to say something, but nothing came out.

•“I know it’s a little rocky…I’m not the best at drawing machinery.” Gently, he took ahold of the sketchbook and gave it a soft tug, nonverbally asking for permission to hold it. You let him.

•As he looked closer, a warm smile crept across his face. “Well, well…wouldja look at that. That’s me alright.” He chuckled heartily, but you realized it was from admiration, not amusement.

•“Look at you, (Y/N)! Saw me all covered in dirt an’ said ‘yeah, I can make art from that’. I love it…shucks, darlin’, I can hardly get my eyes off of it.”

•He looked back at you, still all aglow, only to find you blushing to the point of near luminescence. “Aw, c’mon now honey…no need to be all shy. You’re incredible, ya know that?”

•An arm slunk around your shoulders, pulling you fast to his side, quickly pecking the top of your head. “I love it, and I love you.”

Soldier

•Soldier was a brave man, that he was confident in. But even he was self-aware enough to realize he wasn’t the sharpest.

•Anything he’d ever drawn looked like kids’ stuff, so to see what you could make? It blew his mind.

•Jane tried not to stare while you drew—you’d gotten all nervous when you’d caught him, and he was trying to be courteous—but he couldn’t deny how it captivated him.

•“Whatcha workin’ on now?” “I’m drawing those two goofs.” You motioned to the Spy and Scout bickering as they often did. “Why them, of all things?” “I just like capturing the moment sometimes.”

•One day, as you sat while he drilled the rest of the team, you started to do just that. You found it hard not to chuckle just a little as the others groaned and rolled their eyes.

•Sure, you got their annoyance, but you couldn’t help but be pulled in by Jane’s excitement and hot-bloodedness.

•“Seemed pretty lost in your work there, or I woulda asked you to join in.” A strong hand ruffling your hair snapped you out of your daze. “Capturing the moment again?”

•“Uh-huh. I think this is my best one yet.” You turned the book around to show him, and you saw his lips part slightly in surprise before he suddenly laughed. “Haha! Look at that! It’s me!”

•You laughed with him, just happy to see him so tickled by it. “I think I really captured you.” “I’d say so, kid! I’d say so…wow.” The amusement gave way to what you realized was…almost awe.

•“I look…strong. Proud.” “Yep.” “…I look good.” “Of course you do.” He nudged his helmet down a bit with his hand, chuckling to himself. From what little bit of his face you saw…was he blushing?

•Imitating him playfully—it was something you two tended to do, he found it cute—you joked, in your best impression of him, “‘Are you going soft on me, maggot??? You’re red as a tomato!’” “Noooo…oh, (Y/N), what am I gonna do with you?”

•He caught the side of your face softly and pecked you on the cheek. “But…really. Thank you, sweetheart. I think that’s my favorite thing you’ve ever made.”

Sniper

•Truthfully, Mick had never given a lot of thought to the arts before he’d met you. What really caught his eye was the amount of time you put into it.

•Sniper knew better than anyone that holding still, completely focused on your task, being all but absorbed in it…that was respectable.

•The fact that he could leave for work and come back to find you in the same spot? It was just very attractive to him.

•You stopped by to watch him sometimes, very discreetly, on less busy days, although he wouldn’t lie, it got him nervous. He trusted in his own skills plenty, but…you weren’t just anyone. He couldn’t have you getting hurt.

•So one day, as he finally wrapped up, he saw you, still hard at work. He didn’t want to interrupt you, but if it was time to go, he wanted to go. Giving you a light pat on the shoulder, he chuckled. “Almost done there, darlin? Quittin’ time.”

•“Just a bit more…there. Perfect. Check it out.” You held up what you’d been working on: a full sketch of him invested in his own work.

•It took him a moment to process what he was seeing, but once he did, he couldn’t help but be amazed. Slightly slack-jawed, he looked up at you, the faintest trace of a smile.

•“Never considered myself the modelin’ type, ‘specially not out here, but…wow. Ya really did it. And I look bloody good, too!” “Well duh!” “Oh, stop—” Oh, that got him. The Aussie was surprisingly easy to fluster once he’d fully grown comfortable, and you loved it.

•“Awww, are you blushing?” “Just a little…now c’mon.” Taking your hand, he helped you up, quickly hugging you around the shoulders, catching you somewhat off-guard.

•“But really. Great job there. Thanks…it’s an honor, ya know that? To be drawn by you?” “Gosh—” “Heh, now you’re the one goin’ all red.” “Oh, stop—”

Medic

•The good(?) doctor first learned of your artistic prowess when he caught you trying to draw the charts he had on his wall. “Ooh! Very impressive.”

•Medic could do a lot of things, but drawing wasn’t really one of them. He couldn’t resist watching you work, even though he knew it was a bit touchy.

•“Poetry in motion, Liebe. Really.” Simp. “Oh, come on—” “I mean it! You have such precision, such grace…it’s a sight to behold!”

•So of course, when you were working on something that you absolutely would not let him look at, he wanted to see even more.

•“I promise that whatever it is, I will find it as beautiful as you!” “It’s not that, silly—it’s supposed to be a surprise!” He seemed almost sulky about it…it was kind of cute, although you did feel a bit bad.

•Eventually though, it was done—him, with Archimedes on his shoulder. “Okay, honey, you can look now.”

•One hand comes up over his mouth, audibly gasping. “Is that…? It is!!! Haha!”

•You had never seen him this happy, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time, (Y/N)! Look at that…and Archimedes too!”

•Perhaps unsurprisingly, he brings the bird out to show him too. It’s hard to gauge the response from a dove, but the tranquil cooing seems to suggest that he enjoys it.

•The doctor catches you off-guard as he sweeps you into a kiss. “Oh…danke, Schatz (treasure). May I keep this?” “Of course~”

•Best believe this man is showing your art off to EVERYONE who he treats, going on and on about what an incredible artist and person you are.

Spy

•This guy is a man of culture, he can appreciate good art. And good artists, wink.

•But in all seriousness, your attention to detail was incredibly attractive to him. After you’d been together for a while, the two of you would sit in his smoking room and relax together once the work day was over.

•Sometimes he’d be off to the side just doing his own thing, reading, but other times he’d actually sit beside you and watch. There was an intimacy to it, one you took time to grow fully comfortable with, but he was patient.

•So when you were very secretive one night, it caught his attention. Nothing slipped past him—not even you. You sensed him behind you surprisingly quickly though, and quickly closed the project up.

•“Shy tonight, are we? So unlike you, mon bijou (my jewel)…” “Hehe…be patient, babe, it’s not done yet.”

•His arms wrapped around you from behind briefly…gosh, it was difficult to keep anything secret from this man. “Very well. Keep your secrets…for now.”

•But he respected that you didn’t want him to see it just yet, and so he waited.

•“…Okay, you can look now.” In an instant, he was behind you again. It was hard to even look up at the guy right now, but once you did…there was this sense of wonder in his face that you hadn’t seen before.

•It wasn’t often that Spy looked at himself unmasked for longer than a few seconds—he’d almost forgotten his own face by now. For spies, he reasoned, it was better that way. But the way you had captured every detail of him…

•“Oh, what a handsome devil…wonder who that could be…” Was he trying to brush off his own flustering? Maybe a little.

•You couldn’t help but giggle as he almost hurriedly sat down next to you, quickly drawing you in close as he continued to look. Almost entranced.

•That element of intimacy I mentioned before? It was his turn to feel it now. Not even in a physical way, which is what this Casanova is so used to.

•No, the fact that you had clearly just…looked at his face, so intently. There was something raw and vulnerable to it. And as much as he wanted to look at it even more, his eyes were magnetically drawn to you.

•“I wouldn’t have ever asked it of you, but…I always wondered what it would look like if you drew me. I…”

•Glancing back down, he found that he couldn’t even come up with anything to say. The act of love had rendered him speechless. YOU BROKE HIM OH MY GOSH/j

•“…Do you like it?” Before you could say anything else, you were swiftly kissed, and I mean kissed.

•Spy always looked at you with a sort of passion, but this was different. He had never felt so much love for someone. Felt like a young, hopeless romantic boy all over again.

•“I adore it…and most of all, I adore you, mon cœur (my heart).”

AAAAND IM DONE. WHEW. That was fun!

[shybluebirdninja]

Babe, Relax!

continuation from this.

Summary: Logan transforms from the tough Wolverine to an overprotective dad, freaking out over every little cough from the baby while you can’t help but laugh at his ridiculous antics as he tries (and fails) to hide his panic.

Pairing             : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Wife!Human-reader Genre              : Fluff

The first week at home with your little miracle has been a whirlwind of sleepless nights and endless diaper changes. As you sit on the couch, cradling the baby in your arms, you can’t help but laugh at Logan’s over-the-top antics. He’s pacing the living room like a caged animal, a mix of worry and pride etched across his rugged face.

“Babe, you gotta make sure he’s breathing, right?” Logan says, peering over your shoulder like he’s about to interrogate the kid. “Like, he’s not gonna stop breathing when I’m not lookin’, right? You know these little guys—” he gestures dramatically, “they’re sneaky!”

You can’t help but giggle, rocking the baby gently. “Logan, he’s not a ninja. He’s just a baby. Chill, will ya? He’s fine.”

Logan crosses his arms, his brow furrowing like he’s contemplating a life-or-death situation. “Yeah, but what if he goes all ‘sleep mode’ and forgets to breathe? You never know. I don’t trust these tiny humans.”

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in your heart makes it hard to keep a straight face. “I promise you, sweetheart, he knows how to breathe. Just like you know how to stop being a drama queen.”

He huffs, tapping his foot. “Hey! I’m a very composed dude. Besides, I’m just looking out for our kid. You know, I’ve faced bad guys and wars and shit, but this? This is different. This is my baby.”

You can’t help but smile at the fierce protector he’s turned into. “You’re a badass, babe. But you’re not going to battle. Just be the dad you are. Trust me; you’re doing great.”

Logan relaxes a bit, leaning against the wall and trying to look nonchalant, but you see his eyes darting back to the baby. “You sure? I mean, you saw how I fainted in the hospital. I can’t go down like that again. Imagine if I passed out right here while holding him! The kid would have to save me!”

You chuckle. “Oh yeah, the baby would just pop out with claws and start yelling ‘Dad, get up!’”

Logan grins, relaxing a little more. “You think he’ll be a mutant? Because if he is, I’m gonna train him in the backyard, no rules.”

“Yeah, because that’s exactly what a baby needs—sword fights in the backyard.” You chuckle, shaking your head. “Can we just enjoy this moment without any ‘Wolverine 2.0’ training sessions? Let him crawl first, babe.”

“Alright, fine. No backyard training... yet,” he says, but there’s a teasing glint in his eyes. “But I’m not givin’ up on him learning to be a badass. He’s my kid, after all.”

You shift the baby a little, adjusting the blanket around him, and Logan’s gaze softens. “Look at him, though. He’s perfect. I mean, he’s got my chin, right?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “You mean the chin that looks like it’s been through a few bar fights? Yeah, he’s got that.”

Logan smirks, pointing a finger at you. “And you’re sayin’ he got that from me? At least I’ve got the claws to back it up!”

“Sure, Logan, sure. Just be careful not to scare the baby with your ‘fierce’ face,” you tease, leaning in for a kiss. His lips brush against yours, softening the tension in the room.

Logan’s expression turns serious again. “But really, babe, if anything happens, just tell me, okay? I can’t have you or him in danger.”

You nod, your heart swelling. “I know, Logan. But we’re both fine. Just enjoy being a dad.”

He scratches his head, glancing between you and the baby. “I just wish I knew what I was doin’. What if he doesn’t like me?”

“Are you kidding? He’s going to think you’re the coolest dad ever,” you assure him, gesturing toward the tiny boy. “Look at you! He’s gonna grow up hearing all your stories about clawing through bad guys and saving the day.”

Logan chuckles softly. “Yeah, and I’ll make sure to throw in some ‘don’t be a jerk’ life lessons.”

The baby lets out a soft coo, and Logan’s expression melts, his face lighting up. “Did you hear that? He’s talking to me! He gets it!”

You lean back, enjoying the sight of Logan falling deeper for your little boy. “He totally does, babe. He’s a smart one.”

Logan takes a step closer, bending down to get a better look. “You’re gonna be a tough little dude, right? No cryin’ allowed. You hear me?”

You stifle a laugh, loving every minute of Logan’s daddy antics. “Yeah, Logan, because that’s how babies work. Just wait until he starts screaming at three in the morning. You’ll be singing a different tune.”

He narrows his eyes playfully. “Hey, I can handle anything—except you screaming at me.”

With a smirk, you throw a pillow at him. “Good luck with that!”

As Logan catches the pillow, a thought crosses your mind. You reach out to hold his hand. “Hey, thanks for being you, you know? I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side.”

Logan squeezes your hand, a softness in his eyes. “And I wouldn’t want anyone else to share this craziness with. Just you and our little one. We got this, darlin’.”

“Damn right we do. Now, how about you go grab a snack while I keep an eye on the baby?”

He stands up, smirking. “You just wanna keep me away from him so I don’t freak out.”

“Exactly,” you tease, “You can only check on him every five minutes, Mr. Overprotective!”

Logan shakes his head with a laugh. “Fine, but you better let me know if anything goes south. You know I can’t handle it.”

You wave him off as he heads to the kitchen, and you can’t help but smile. This is your new normal, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. The love, the laughter, the gentle chaos—it’s all worth it.

As you glance down at the baby, you know one thing for sure: your little family is about to have one hell of an adventure.

[meazalykov]

play for the crowd

lauren james x english!influencer!reader : social media + fic

summary: a fake relationship never ends well.. or does it?

warnings: angst, very long chapter

for @pinkyqily + @jackiesunshines

“welcome back to ‘call her daddy,’ babes,” alex starts with her signature grin, leaning closer to the mic. 

“today, we’ve got the it-girl of england sitting across from me. she’s hilarious, she’s fashionable, she’s friends with basically everyone worth knowing—please give it up for y/n!!”

you laugh softly, adjusting your seating in the red fancy chair.

“oh, stop it. you’re hyping me up too much.”

“listen, i only speak the truth on this podcast,” alex replies dramatically, hands gesturing like she’s addressing an audience of thousands. 

“so, let’s just jump right in. your fashion—people are obsessed. i mean, half the girls listening are probably taking notes on your outfit right now as we speak.”

you smile, settling into your seat. 

“i feel like my style is a bit all over the place, to be honest. one day i’ll be in baggy streetwear, the next i’m in a full-on luxury brand look, then i’m in some scandi-inspired minimalism, and before you know it, i’m frolicking in a meadow in a cottagecore dress. i just wear whatever’s cute.”

“so, you’re telling me your closet must look insane.” alex leans forward, clearly intrigued.

“oh, it’s a disaster,” you admit with a laugh. 

“you know when people say, ‘if you can’t see it, you won’t wear it’? yeah, my clothes are in piles. i try to organize, but then i get new stuff, and it’s chaos all over again.”

“and yet you always look put together. how does that even work?”

“magic,” you joke, adjusting your oversized blazer. 

“or maybe just panic dressing.”

alex grins. 

“fair enough. okay, now—this is a call her daddy episode where i am the nosey host, so we have to get into your social life. you’ve got so many famous friends. who’s in your circle? who’s in the inner circle?”

you raise an eyebrow.

“you’re really trying to get the tea, huh?”

“always,” alex says without hesitation. 

“give us something.”

you smirk. 

“well, i’ve got a mix of people, you know? like, models, footballers, actors... it’s a weird little melting pot. i vibe with people who are chill and don’t take life too seriously.”

“what about jude bellingham?” alex’s grin widens, mischief sparkling in her eyes. 

“you’ve been seen with him quite a bit. are we finally getting confirmation here?”

your laugh is immediate, and you shake your head as you roll your eyes playfully. 

“oh my god, no no no absolutely not. jude is not my type at all.”

alex gasps theatrically. 

“wait, hold on. you’re telling me jude bellingham, literal dreamboat that maybe has a million edits of himself, is not your type? do you know how many women would kill for that chance?”

“i’m sure they would,” you reply, still laughing. 

“but, yeah, jude and i are just friends. strictly platonic. in fact, he’s hilarious.”

alex’s eyes narrow in mock suspicion. 

“so, what is your type, then?”

you pause for a moment, knowing the question is loaded. you take a breath, then grin. 

“well, just know that i don’t swing jude’s way.”

alex’s face lights up. 

“ohhh, so you’re into women?” her excitement is palpable.

“yeah,” you say, nodding firmly. 

“i mean, people have speculated for years, so… there you go. confirmed. i like women.”

“iconic,” alex replies, clapping her hands. 

“this is huge!!!! so, do you have a partner? because i feel like everyone’s going to be dying to know now.”

a weight sinks in your chest, but you plaster on a smile. you hate lying, but this is part of the game. 

“i do,” you say carefully, keeping your voice light. 

“but i’m not spilling anything just yet.”

“oh, come on,” alex pleads. 

“not even a little hint?”

you shake your head, laughing softly. 

“nope. but trust me, everyone will know who she is eventually.”

alex groans in mock defeat, throwing her head back. 

“you’re killing me, y/n. absolutely killing me.”

“i gotta keep some mystery, alex,” you tease. 

“otherwise, what’s the fun?”

y/n.l/n

{tagged: yourbsf}

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y/n.l/n hello 2025

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y/nl/nluvr5 SO CUTE

yourbsf ily

ashley_lawrence10 pretty! 🤩

wosofan2719 why are all of the chelsea girls in her likes?? 🫣

user6282 I thought I was the only one who peeped

random12938 after her podcast with alex on friday, I am convinced y/n's girlfriend is known to the public already. you might be onto something since she is already close with english footballers

madelineargy 😍

~view all 2,039 comments~

you’re sitting cross-legged on your plush beige couch, the soft hum of a charli xcx playlist filling the quiet of your london apartment. 

a steaming mug of tea sits on the coffee table, untouched, as you absently scroll through your phone. your eyes flick to the clock—just past noon. you’re waiting on lauren to send over the ticket details for tonight’s chelsea vs. arsenal match, the anticipated london derby.

your stomach twists slightly at the thought. not because of the game—you actually enjoy football. it’s the situation you’ve been thrown into that makes you uneasy. 

a fake relationship. a pr stunt. your team’s bright idea to boost both your profiles. it’s not like you haven’t heard the horror stories: influencer friends venting about staged dates, awkward photoshoots, and scripted chemistry with people they couldn’t stand and hated. 

you swore you’d never do something so fake, yet here you are.

your phone buzzes, snapping you out of your thoughts. it’s a message from lauren.

lauren: hey, just sent your name to the list—tickets will be at will call under 'guest of lj.' fancy title, right?

you smile faintly, typing back.

you: wow, i feel so important. 

you joke. a reply comes almost instantly.

lauren: absolutely. “fake girlfriend to chelsea star.” major clout.

you laugh under your breath, appreciating her humor despite the absurdity of the situation.

you: i can’t lie.. this is all so ridiculous. have you done this kind of thing before?

lauren: nope. first time for me too. i feel like i should apologize in advance if i make this awkward.

you: i was just about to say the same to you. we’ll both be awkward… it’ll balance out.

lauren’s next text takes a second longer to come through.

lauren: for what it’s worth, i know this isn’t ideal. but i promise i’m not a complete nightmare in person like the media can paint me out to be. 

you pause, rereading her message. there’s something about her tone—genuine, almost reassuring. however, you frown at the last part of her message. you have seen the tweets and post that have villainized her about certain situations that have happened between her and other players. you don’t play football, but you understand how intense things can be.

lauren’s genuine personality makes you think that this won’t be as terrible as you’ve been building it up to be.

you: well, if you’re not a nightmare, i guess i can survive one football match. or how ever many as i will need to go to for us. as long as i don’t get smacked with a football in front of your everyone or something.

lauren: if you do, we’ll just blame it on the opposing team.

you laugh again softly, shaking your head. her dry wit feels disarming, and you find yourself a little more curious about meeting her in person. maybe, just maybe, lauren will surprise you.

the cool london air nips at your cheeks as you step out of the car, pulling your brown puffer coat tighter around yourself. the excitement hums through the blue and red crowds gathered outside the chelsea stadium. 

you glance up at the familiar facade, the blue and white banners waving proudly in the breeze. you’ve been here before, more times than you can count, but tonight feels… different.

you make your way through the gates, clutching the ticket lauren organized for you. your name’s on the guest list, which feels oddly official, even though you know it’s all just for show. navigating the stadium is second nature by now—you’ve been here for england matches, screaming alongside the fans, but you’ve never been here for chelsea. 

the thought feels strange, almost disloyal, considering most of your friends are manchester (city and united) fans through and through.

their reactions flash through your mind, the way they nearly lost it when you casually mentioned you were going on a "date" with a chelsea player.

"you’re joking, right? chelsea? you can’t be serious," one had said, barely hiding their disbelief.

"wait, who is it?" another pressed, practically bouncing in their seat. 

"don’t tell me it’s lucy bronze—no, wait, she just transferred here so i don’t think it's her."

you’d shrugged them off, offering nothing but a sly smile. “you’ll find out soon enough,” you’d teased, leaving them to spiral into speculation. you didn’t have the heart—or the nerve—to explain the truth yet. 

not until you’d met lauren in person, not until you knew how this whole fake relationship would pan out.

as you approach the friends and family section, a subtle wave of nervousness rolls over you. this is it—the start of whatever chaotic media circus your teams have orchestrated. you take a deep breath, smoothing the invisible wrinkles on your coat, and step inside.

you wonder if people will question your presence in that section, why you were here by yourself with none of your friends to accompany you. however, you decide to take the next 90 minutes to collect your thoughts while lauren plays her match.

taking your seat, directly where you can see the middle of the pitch, the noise of the crowd fills your ears as you settle. your focus is razor-sharp. your eyes stay locked on lauren as she moves across the pitch with ease, weaving through arsenal's defense like it’s second nature. 

the game already started three minutes ago.. and she’s good…really good. you knew that already, of course, seeing her play live is something else entirely.

you shift in your seat, trying to keep your expression neutral. the plan is simple: be here, watch the match, and appear supportive. it’s harder than you thought to ignore the weight of the cameras that occasionally pan away from the game and land on you instead. 

you know what the headlines will say. you can already picture the tweets that are posting on twitter as your eye move along lauren’s body.

the speculation is what you’re here for. you tap your fingers against the armrest of your seat, trying to drown out the chatter in your head. this is all part of the plan, you remind yourself. 

still, the questions buzzing online are ones you’re not ready to answer. not yet. this isn’t even real after all.

your eyes dart back to lauren. she’s on the ball again, making a sharp run from a sharp pass from lucy that sets up a near-perfect chance. the crowd erupts, and you find yourself caught between genuine admiration for her skill and the uncomfortable reality of why you’re here. with the cameras on you, though, you know better than to let anything too much slip. 

you lean forward slightly, keeping your attention locked on lauren, as though she’s the only thing that matters in the moment.

the game ends with a 2-1 win for chelsea. you stand awkwardly by the fruit stand in the lounge room area, pretending to be invested in the arrangement of grapes and orange slices. the truth is, you feel out of place. 

this isn’t your scene, and it shows. the other friends and family members seem at ease, chatting and laughing like they belong here. you, however, can’t shake the anxiety in your chest. of course, people recognize you—this is england, after all. your face is plastered on magazine covers and social media feeds. here, in this context, you feel more exposed than ever.

you shift your weight from foot to foot, glancing at the clock on the wall. lauren’s team has just wrapped up their post-match debrief, and any minute now, she’ll walk in. the thought doesn’t help your nerves; if anything, it makes them worse. 

you haven’t even met her in person before, yet the entire world will soon think that she’s your girlfriend. the absurdity of it all threatens to make you laugh, but the knot in your stomach keeps you grounded.

you’re about to reach for a piece of pineapple when you feel a light touch on your shoulder. the sensation startles you, and you turn around quickly, almost dropping the toothpick you’re holding.

“i didn’t know you could be so shy, y/n,” lauren says, her tone teasing but warm. she’s standing there, freshly showered, her hair damp and swept back. the post-match attitude has faded, leaving her looking relaxed, but there’s a spark of curiosity in her eyes as she takes you in.

you smile nervously, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your blazer. 

“well, i’m usually not,” you reply, your voice quieter than you intended. 

“but this is… a little out of my comfort zone.”

lauren’s brows raise slightly, and she steps closer, her presence somehow steadying. 

“really? you, out of your comfort zone? that’s hard to believe.”

you glance down, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. 

“it’s different when it’s not my crowd. football people, you know? i’m more used to influencer events or fashion shows, not… this.”

lauren chuckles softly. 

“well, for what it’s worth, you look like you fit right in. maybe too well. people are already whispering about you.”

“great,” you mutter, trying to keep the sarcasm light but unable to mask your discomfort. 

“exactly what i wanted.”

she tilts her head, studying you for a moment. 

“it’ll die down eventually,” she says, her tone more serious now. 

“but i get it. it’s weird, isn’t it? pretending like this? its going to be worse once we have to tell the media.”

you let out a small laugh, more out of relief that she said it than anything else. 

“weird doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you admit. 

“i mean, we haven’t even met before today, and now the world will think that we’re madly in love. it’s ridiculous.”

lauren nods, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“yeah, it is. but hey, we’re in this together, right?.”

you meet her gaze. she’s genuine, at least, and that’s something. “you’re right,” you say softly, your smile more genuine now. 

“i guess we’ll figure it out.”

she grins, and the moment feels strangely natural despite the layers of pretense surrounding it. then she gestures toward the lounge area where the other players’ families are gathered. 

“come on. let’s get you out of the corner. they’re going to think i’m a terrible girlfriend if i leave you standing here alone.”

you laugh, following her lead, the tension still present but slightly eased by her presence. it’s strange, walking beside her, knowing that the world will see something entirely different from what you feel inside. 

for now, you push that thought aside and focus on surviving the night.

lj10

{tagged: y/n.l/n}

liked by y/n.l/n, lucybronze, and 131,216 others

lj10 recent

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random28383 IS THAT WHO I THINK IT ISSS??????

y/nl8vr MY BABY ON THE THIRD SLIDE

chelseafcwfan7 I KNEW IT WAS LAUREN THAT WAS DATING Y/N

❤️ *liked by author*

y/n.l/n 😘😘

user91010 oh that's not..

meazalykov ??

user91010 @/meazalykov i did not expect lauren and y/n no shade..

meazalykov well too bad..

lucybronze hard launch era

catarina_macario 😍😍

~view all 10,378 comments~

the days throughout the next few weeks blur together in a haze of carefully curated social media posts and staged interactions. every picture, every story, every comment feels like a chess move, calculated for the public eye. 

by now, the world has accepted the narrative—lauren james and y/n l/n, england’s newest power couple.

behind the scenes, it’s a different story entirely. you and lauren barely talk, only exchanging the occasional text when coordinating your next “public moment.” it’s efficient, professional even, but cold. 

you can’t help but feel the growing weight of the disconnect between the facade you show the world and the reality of your relationship. or lack thereof.

yet, something about lauren lingers in your mind. she’s kind in the brief moments you’ve interacted—genuine, with a subtle humor that catches you off guard. you’ve noticed how her quiet demeanor shifts when she’s irritated, her sharp gaze and tense shoulders mirroring your own tells when you’re frustrated. 

it’s a trait that feels too familiar, like looking into a mirror.

sitting on your couch late one evening, your phone in hand, you scroll mindlessly through instagram. you pause looking at the instagram story you posted with lauren, staring at the image, at the way lauren’s hand rests casually on your back in the mirror picture. you’d both laughed during that shoot. the memory stirs something in your chest—a quiet ache you can’t quite place.

she’s fascinating in a way you didn’t expect. it’s not just her talent on the pitch or her rising fame; it’s the little things. the way her smile softens when she’s genuinely amused. the thoughtful pauses she takes before she speaks. the way she seems to carry a quiet confidence, even in the chaos of the public’s attention. 

you shake your head, exhaling sharply. this is ridiculous, you tell yourself. the truth is, you want to know her… the real her, not the polished version you’ve pieced together through brief interactions and online impressions. 

you open your messages, your thumb hovering over her name. for a moment, you consider texting her something—anything—to start a conversation. however, the thought of overstepping, of complicating an already convoluted situation, keeps you frozen. 

with a sigh, you lock your phone and toss it onto the couch beside you.

whatever this is, whatever it could be, will have to wait. for now, you’ll stick to the plan, no matter how much your thoughts keep drifting back to lauren.

y/n.l/n

{tagged: lj10}

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y/n.l/n good evening

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❤️ *liked by author*

lj10 good evening 😍😍

lucybronze its 11:09am..

y/n.l/n again, good evening lucy bronze

lucybronze good evening ig 😒

catarina_macario 🤩

random2728 lj and y/n having a private but not secret relationship 🥰

user72929 LOVE

random2728 there's something off about this..

random10989 wym?

leahwilliamsonn 😍

~view all 4,290 comments~

the bar is calming, music thrumming in the background as laughter and chatter fill the air. the dim lighting casts a warm glow over the group, everyone mingling and sipping on their drinks. 

you’re perched on a stool near the bar, glancing occasionally at lauren, who’s leaning against the counter, chatting easily with one of her teammates, millie. she looks relaxed, her posture casual, but there’s something about the way her eyes flick to you every so often that has your stomach in knots.

“another drink?” her voice cuts through the noise, her tone light but carrying just enough warmth to catch your attention.

you look up at her, a slight smile tugging at your lips.

“are you trying to get me drunk, lauren?”

she smirks, handing you the glass. 

“maybe. or maybe i just want to make sure you’re having a good time.”

you take a sip, feeling the burn of the alcohol mixed with something sweeter—the way she’s looking at you. 

“thanks,” you murmur. 

“but i can return the favor. what are you drinking?”

“water,” she says simply, holding up her glass. 

“staying hydrated.”

you tilt your head, studying her. 

“water? not even one drink? you’re playing it too safe.”

she shrugs, a playful glint in her eyes. 

“someone has to keep an eye on you.”

you laugh, the sound escaping before you can stop it. 

“oh, so now you’re my babysitter?”

“if that’s what you need,” she fires back smoothly, her grin widening.

there’s a moment, a charged pause, where the noise of the bar seems to fade into the background. lauren’s gaze lingers on you, and you feel your cheeks heat under the intensity of it. 

you lean in slightly, emboldened by the drinks and the energy between you.

“careful,” you tease, your voice dropping just enough to match the tension. 

“someone might think you actually care.”

“and what if i do?” she counters, her tone light but her eyes unreadable.

you blink, caught off guard. the banter feels easy, natural, but there’s something underneath it that feels heavier—real. you search her face for a clue, but she keeps her expression steady, a flicker of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth.

“then i’d say you’re doing a great job convincing everyone here,” you say finally, trying to match her confidence, even as your heart races.

her lips curve into a smirk. 

“convincing you, too?”

your breath catches, and for a split second, you don’t know what to say. she watches you, her expression calm but undeniably smug, as though she knows exactly the effect she’s having on you.

“maybe,” you admit, keeping your voice steady despite the way your pulse thunders in your ears.

she chuckles softly, the sound low and intimate, and it leaves you feeling both flustered and unmoored. then, as if sensing the moment tipping into something too real, she pulls back slightly, raising her glass of water in a mock toast.

“to good acting,” she says, her voice light but her eyes holding yours a beat too long.

you clink your glass against hers, your stomach twisting as you try to discern whether she’s teasing or deflecting. 

as the night wears on, you can’t shake the way her words, her gaze, her presence—all of it—lingers in the back of your mind. was it an act? or was there something more beneath the surface? you don’t know, and the uncertainty gets at you in a way you didn’t expect.

your drink—something sweet and forgettable—sits untouched in front of you, the condensation pooling around the glass on the counter. the room feels alive as you watch your surroundings again, as lauren’s teammates and your friends fill the dance floor, laughing, swaying to the music, completely at ease. 

you, however, feel like a misplaced puzzle piece.

you’re here for a purpose, after all—not to let loose, but to be seen. you and lauren were both instructed to attend, to sit in proximity long enough for someone to notice, snap a photo, and post it online. the public needed to see the happy “couple” out and about, living their seemingly charmed lives. 

that was the plan. it always is. however, something about tonight feels off.. or maybe it’s you that feels off. 

your eyes drift to lauren, who’s sitting a few stools away at this point, talking to sjoeke. lauren’s body language is relaxed, her posture casual, and she exudes that effortless charm you’ve come to associate with her. her laugh carries over the music, soft but genuine, and it’s disarming. 

you’ve seen her in a dozen different settings by now—on the pitch, in interviews, even in those staged photoshoots your teams made you do together—but she always carries the same quiet confidence. 

“why do i care so much about her flirting earlier?” the thought hits you suddenly, and you blink, startled by your own realization. you know you shouldn’t care. it’s not like there’s anything real between you two. this is business, nothing more. 

you’re about to take a sip of your drink when movement catches your eye. a brunette woman, her steps uneven and her smile a little too wide, weaves her way through the crowd and makes a beeline for lauren. 

she stops next to her, leaning on the counter for balance before sliding onto the stool beside her. 

at first, you think nothing of it. people approach lauren all the time; it comes with the territory of her being a footballer.. then you notice the way the woman leans in, her body language screaming flirtation. 

even over the music, you catch snippets of her words. 

“i’ve been watching you all night,” the brunette says, her voice slurred but still clear enough to make your chest tighten. 

you force yourself to look away, focusing instead on the condensation trailing down your glass. but your attention snaps back when you hear lauren laugh—a soft, polite chuckle that quickly morphs into something warmer. she’s flirting back. 

it’s subtle, nothing overt, but it’s enough to make your stomach churn.

you grip the edge of your stool, willing yourself to stay calm. this doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. this isn’t real. lauren is a footballer—a brilliant, talented, and undeniably attractive one. of course people are drawn to her. of course she’s going to flirt back.

you remind yourself that you’re just the one her pr team picked for this charade. nothing more. 

the tightness in your chest refuses to go away. watching lauren lean in closer to the brunette, her smile softening, feels like a punch to the gut and worse, it makes you question things you don’t want to question. 

like why you even care in the first place.

the noise of the bar feels suffocating, and before you know it, you’re sliding off the stool and heading toward the bathroom. the music dulls as you push through the door, and the quieter space is a welcome reprieve.

then, your eyes land on zion and amber. 

your two friends are tucked into a corner of the bathroom, lost in their own world. amber’s hands are tangled in zion’s hair, and zion’s lips are pressed firmly against amber’s. they don’t even notice you until the door clicks shut behind you. 

zion pulls back first, her face flushed. “y/n?” she asks, stepping forward. 

“you okay?”

you hesitate, the weight of the night pressing heavily on your chest. you don’t want to talk about it, but the lump in your throat makes it clear that you need to. 

“not really,” you admit, your voice quieter than you intended.

amber straightens, exchanging a quick glance with zion before walking over to you. 

“what’s going on?” she asks, concern evident in her tone.

just like that, everything comes pouring out. the fake relationship, the constant public scrutiny, the pressure to perform for an audience you didn’t ask for. you tell them about the brunette at the bar, how lauren flirted back, and how much it hurt even though it shouldn’t have. when you’re done, you feel a little lighter, but the knot in your chest remains.

zion crosses her arms, her brow furrowed in thought. 

“y/n,” she says carefully, “are you… catching feelings for lauren?”

the question hangs in the air, heavy and uncomfortable. your first instinct is to deny it, to brush it off as ridiculous. but the truth gnaws at you, undeniable and unrelenting. you don’t say anything, which is answer enough.

amber steps closer, placing a hand on your arm. “look,” she says gently, “you need to figure this out. either you tell her how you feel and end this whole fake thing, or you set some serious boundaries before you get hurt.”

you nod slowly, the reality of her words settling over you like a weight. “yeah,” you murmur. 

“you’re right.”

as you stand there, staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, the question lingers in your mind. 

how did i even let this happen?

the days pass in a haze of avoidance and overthinking. 

you bury yourself in work, content for tiktok, and anything else that keeps you busy enough to ignore the fluttering in your chest every time you think of lauren. it’s not hard to avoid her; after all, your only real interactions have been the orchestrated ones... lunches, coffee dates, the occasional walk in the park, all designed to feed the narrative. 

without the need for those, you manage to keep your distance.

your phone buzzes occasionally with texts from lauren. nothing accusatory or probing, just polite questions about when your next outing is or casual jokes about how your pr teams must be getting impatient about when the next outing will be. 

each message makes your stomach twist, the guilt poking at you. she doesn’t deserve to be avoided, but you can’t bring yourself to face her right now.

the bathroom conversation at the bar replays in your head on a loop. amber’s words, “set boundaries or tell her how you feel,” echo louder with each passing day. it feels like you’ve done neither, stuck somewhere in limbo, unsure of what to do. 

all you know is that seeing lauren flirt with someone else hurt more than it should have. and now, it’s painfully clear why.

you caught feelings. 

the realization had hit you like a train that night, leaving you panicked. you’ve spent years building walls around yourself, keeping relationships at arm’s length, unwilling to let anyone in after your last heartbreak. yet here you are, feelings growing for someone who isn’t even truly yours. 

lauren’s face lingers in your mind far more often than you’d like. the chelsea player’s quiet humor, her thoughtfulness, the way her smile lights up when she’s genuinely happy.. it’s all etched into your brain, no matter how much you try to push it away. 

the worst part? you know this is going nowhere. fake relationships don’t magically become real, and even if they did, there’s no guarantee lauren feels the same.

you sit on your couch, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone. the notifications pile up—comments on your latest post, messages from friends, an email from your team about your next public appearance. 

you can’t bring yourself to focus on any of it. all you can think about is how scared you are that you’ve made a mistake, one that’s far too late to undo.

hours later.. around midnight.. you’re curled up on your couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs as you dig into a bowl of rice and chicken. the dim glow of the tv lights up the room, the suspenseful soundtrack of squid game filling the air. 

it’s the perfect distraction, engrossing enough to keep your thoughts at bay, even if just for a little while.

then, a faint knock interrupts the quiet. at first, you assume it’s coming from the show, but when it happens again, you freeze. your eyes flick to the door. you weren’t expecting anyone, and frankly, you’ve been avoiding everyone for the last few days. 

the knocking persists, steady and deliberate, until you reluctantly pause the show and get up.

your heart races as you peek through the peephole. the sight of lauren standing there, hands shoved into the pockets of her hoodie, sends your mind spiraling. 

what is she doing here? how did she get my address?

you open the door slowly, your confusion evident. 

“lauren?” you ask, your voice wary. 

“what are you doing here? how did you even know where i live?”

she offers a small smile, almost sheepish. 

“hey. i asked madeline. hope that’s okay.”

you step aside, letting her in despite your confusion at why she would go so far to ask your mutual friend what your address was. lauren looks around, her eyes landing on the paused screen of squid game. 

“season two?” she asks, nodding toward the tv. 

“is it any good? haven’t had the chance to watch it yet because of training.”

“so far, yeah,” you reply, your tone cautious. 

“like the first season. but… why are you here?”

she turns to face you, her expression soft but serious. 

“i came to talk to you. you’ve been avoiding everyone.. me included.. and it’s not like you. i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you try to brush it off, waving a hand dismissively. 

“i’m fine. just needed some space, that’s all.”

lauren doesn’t budge. she crosses her arms, tilting her head slightly. 

“come on, y/n. i know something’s wrong. you can’t just disappear like that and expect no one to notice.”

you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. 

“what does it matter? you probably have a real date to get to or something.”

she frowns, her brows knitting together. 

“what are you talking about? i don’t have a real date. why would you say that?”

your heart pounds in your chest, but you push forward, your voice tinged with frustration. 

“do you have a real partner, lauren? someone you’re seeing while we’re doing this… this fake thing?”

lauren’s confusion deepens. 

“what? no. where is this even coming from?”

the tension boils over, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out. 

“because it’s driving me insane, lauren! this whole fake relationship thing.. it’s messing with my head. i can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s not just for the cameras or the public or whatever. i caught feelings, okay? within these few months of pretending to be your girlfriend, i somehow…. god, i don’t even know. i like you and i know that’s not part of the plan, so if this makes things too complicated, we can stop. i get it.”

the room goes quiet, your words hanging heavily in the air. lauren’s eyes widen, and for a moment, you brace yourself for rejection. but then her expression shifts… softening into something that looks like relief.

“wait,” she says, stepping closer. 

“are you serious?”

you nod, your heart in your throat. 

“yeah. and if that’s too much, just say the word, and we can call this off. i’ll tell the pr team about the situation myself.”

lauren shakes her head quickly. “no, no. you’re not calling anything off.” her voice is steady, her gaze locked onto yours. 

“if we’re going to stop the fake relationship, it’s only because we’re starting a real one.”

your brows knit together, confusion washing over you. 

“what are you saying?”

she takes a breath, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile. 

“i’m saying that i’ve caught feelings too. you’re kind, funny, and beautiful.. completely yourself no matter the situation. you’re the kind of person who i love spending my time with, even for something as ridiculous as a fake relationship, this has been the best part of my year.”

you stare at her, your brain struggling to catch up. 

“you… like me?”

“yeah,” she says, her smile widening. 

“i like you, y/n. for real, nothing fake.”

the tension in your chest finally loosens, replaced by something warm and overwhelming. 

“so, what do we do now?”

lauren grins, her expression brighter than you’ve ever seen it. 

“first, i’m calling the pr team and telling them we’re done with this fake stuff. after that, we’ll figure it out. together.”

you let out a breathy laugh, relief washing over you. 

“okay. yeah. let’s do that.”

she glances at the tv, her grin turning playful. 

“before that, can we watch the rest of this? i’ve been meaning to start season two.”

you laugh, gesturing to the couch. 

“sure, but you’re sharing my blanket.”

lauren plops down beside you, pulling the blanket over her legs as the two of you settle in. for the first time in weeks, everything feels right.

also real.. 

masterlist

happy very early birthday aj 😆

[gravid-transluna]

Same Boat

words: 1415

content: birth denial, fpreg

Danae would do anything for her partner. Their dates were always doting and private. With her menacing tattoos and biceps like knotted wood in her cuffed sleeves, she’d scared away any men looking to prey on her pretty little girlfriend. Even when she was pounding her with a thick strap, she always prioritized Leah’s preferences, made sure she was happy and drooling and sweetly stroked.

Their simultaneous pregnancies didn’t change anything. Danae was still Leah’s fiercest protector, even as her abs slackened and swelled, and her masculine body lost some of that refined muscle. Sure, it was a little hard to get around sometimes with that belly, but nothing Danae couldn’t handle.

When it came time for Leah’s labor, Danae did everything she could to make their home comfortable and relaxed. Candles, a hot bath.

“You didn’t have to go through the trouble,” Leah laughed, holding her own prominent swell.

She wore one of Danae’s old workout shirts and a slim pair of panties. The way the fabric stretched and slipped around her navel was an undeniable turn-on.

Danae smirked. “Anything for you, princess.”

She tried to avoid touching or stroking her own belly. For the past couple days it had been twinging with sympathetic contractions. She’d kept stoic through them, at pains to not stress Leah in any way before her birth.

The strongest contraction yet had Leah clinging to Danae, mousing her hands through her short locs. Their bellies were pressed together, both flexing, hard with contractions. Danae held Leah in her thick arms, bearing her own contraction soundlessly.

“Uhhhmf,” Leah groaned, sobbing. “There’s so much pressure, baby!”

“I know, baby,” Danae said, a little breathless. She massaged Leah’s overburdened back. “Breathe, now.”

“Ohhhh, oh, I CAN’T.”

Suddenly, fluid soaked both of their thighs. Leah’s legs trembled, weak and slender. Danae supported her, firmly grounded.

Danae left Leah squatting in the living room as she made her way to the kitchen, trying, failing to conceal her pronounced waddle. She returned with towels and dried the mess. On all fours, she suffered another contraction. What she hadn’t revealed to Leah was that not all the birthing fluid had come from her; Danae’s own water had broken. Her eyes widened slightly as her belly tensed beneath her—this contraction was accompanied by the strong urge to push.

Fortunately, Danae was stronger. She gritted her teeth and mopped up the rest of the puddle as the urge pounded through her. Every muscle in her body surged with effort and willpower.

Leah grunted. “I gotta push, baby! Oh, shit! I gotta push so bad!”

“Urgh. Hold it in,” Danae said through gritted teeth. She was speaking to herself just as much as she was speaking to her girlfriend. Sweat beaded at her temple. “Hold it in. Gotta check you first.”

Leah closed her eyes, managed through it with panty grunts. Her legs were permanently spread in a deep squat now. As though a switch had been flipped, she suddenly began to remove her shirt, hiking it up over her belly, then her head. Fully nude, her body glistened. She glimmered in a haze, heavy and feminine.

Danae was overcome with the same desire to strip, broiling in heat, her body sensing the closeness of the baby in her canal. She resisted, remaining in her tight undershorts and sports bra.

Danae positioned the towel under Leah, though her own knees were sore and could have used some relief. She painstakingly braced herself on one knee, dropped stomach resting heavily on her broad thigh.

“God,” Leah breathed, head thrown back. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be,” Danae said, quickly checking her. “I’ve got you.”

Her pussy was familiar as ever, as was Danae’s fingers inside her. She felt Leah’s slick vaginal walls clamp down on them.

“Ooh, I gotta push!” Then, squeezing— “Gotta—I’m PUSHINGGGG! Mmmfgh!”

“You’re good, baby,” Danae said, removing her fingers. She was still kneeling as Leah squatted deeply before her, bottom thrust in her face. Danae’s belly went hard again, as though encouraged by Leah’s furious pushing. Her face snarled and twisted, piercings raising and she flared her gums. The urge to push washed over her again.

Not yet, she thought. Don’t push yet.

Despite her efforts, her body was beginning to bear down against her will, slowly inching the baby through her canal.

Somewhere, dimly in her mind, Danae was in wonder. We’re feeling the same urges, the same stretch, the same weight. It was as though their bodies were one.

Eventually, Leah’s perineum began to bulge, red and irritated, then the head slipped into her pussy.

“Ooh!” She cried. The head was spreading her cheeks.

“Ugh,” Danae grunted. “Good—hrgh—good girl.”

She cupped the head. Birthing fluids spurted and dripped around it as Leah squatted into another groaning push, forcing the head to a full crown.

The sound of relief as Leah pushed was too much. Under Leah’s din, Danae quietly succumbed to her own body. She pressed her lips together, straining, giving in. Her powerful push immediately thrust the baby down between her hips. God, the head was huge. Leah’s hips had widened over the course of her pregnancy, something Danae had delighted in, but her own pelvis remained somewhat narrow, barely wide enough now for the coming head. Danae couldn’t worry about hospitals or stuck heads now, though. Even as she bore down against her tightly wedged baby, she kept her hand on Leah’s crowning pussy as the baby slowly parted and bulged her lips, spreading her open. Leah moaned, bending her knees, scrabbling for any bit of leverage. The skin of her pussy grew taut, an enraged red, then almost white. She would tear if it ripped through any further.

“Baby, you gotta—shi-i-it—you gotta slow down,” Danae demanded between her own pushing.

“I CAN’T, I can’t!!” Leah howled, so Danae pressed back into the crown, gently holding it in place as Leah pushed uncontrollably.

At the same time, Danae heaved with a huge, forceful push. Her well-muscled body exerted like a machine. She finally let loose a deep groan as she bore down, and the baby creaked and opened her pelvis. A wet bulge grew in her undershorts. They tightly contained the crown. Held fast, Danae and Leah were in the same boat.

“Let it come, ohhhh, please let it come out,” Leah was moaning.

Her pussy was stretching properly now, the blood returning to its color, and only at the end of her push did Danae realize this. She cursed herself, guilty for forgetting Leah for even a moment. She eased the counterpressure from her hand, and Leah screamed the head out.

“Check—ing—cord,” Danae gasped.

“Hurry,” Leah panted, mouth open, lolling her head.

Danae held her own pussy as she checked with one hand. Her undershorts were working in her favor for the time being, preventing the trickling crown from growing any wider.

“You’re good, mama,” she grunted. “Push our baby out now.”

Leah shuddered as the shoulders rotated. She shouted, and with a douse of birthing fluids the baby slipped into Danae’s waiting hands.

“Holy—shit, mama!”

Leah sank to her knees and took the baby, cradling. She looked up at Danae tenderly, smiling tiredly as their baby began to suckle.

Her eyes widened.

Danae had raised herself from her knees to a solid squat, thighs tensing, shorts tented with a crowning head. Her belly thrust hard on her midsection, and milk stained her sports bra. Even as she bore down like a warrior, she’d never looked more proud.

Then her eyes met Leah’s. She managed a smirk. “Guess it’s my turn now, huh?”

[xoxochb]

— hold me, console me ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: reader is v overdramatic n mean to percy, he’s also an idiot so it’s deserved, sex references, overall just a bunch of fluff though pairing: percy jackson x fem! reader a/n: currently experiencing the worst period of my life and desperately needed some fluff so here we are 🤗

“you comfy there?”

at the voice, you happily jump up from your disheveled position on your bed (in your defense— the only position where you hadn’t gotten a splitting pain shooting through your tummy) and discard your emotional support bunny stuffie and jump into the arms belonging to your boyfriend.

percy laughs at your enthusiasm for him being there. “I take it you missed me, sweet girl.”

“very much,” you murmur into his shirt clad shoulder. you strongly inhale his scent— heavily of the ocean but there’s always a hint of cologne. your arms tighten around his neck. “I’m pretty sure I’m dying. I want you to plan my funeral.”

“you’re not dying, angel. c’mon, let’s get you to bed.” he unwraps his arms from around your waist, ignoring your pouty expression as he takes your hand and drags you back to your bed.

“but I’ve been laying in bed all day!” you whine. prrcy ignores your words of protests and forcefully, yet diligently, pulls you onto the bed with him, tightly wrapping you back up in his arms so you’re unable to leave them again. your eyes prickle with tiny tears as your new position is allowing your odious cramps to provide you with the worst of pains.

percy frowns when he feels wetness soaking through his shirt. he runs a comforting hand over your back knowingly. “please don’t cry.”

your mood switches quickly. “you try dealing with period cramps then get back to me on that!”

“I’m sorry, continue crying.”

you don’t. you’re too angry to be sad now. then you get sad again because you yelled at your loving boyfriend. “I’m sorry, perce.”

“you’re fine, sweet girl.”

“I’m not fine, my tummy hurts,” you cry.

percy may be going out on a limb here. he may make you angry saying this, or he may make you happy because at least he’s trying. his hand finds its way underneath your shirt. “y’know, sweet girl, I know something that’ll help with your cramps.”

“do you?” you say naively. but realization hits you too hard when his hand begins traveling further places. “no.”

“what you don’t even—” he laughs. “you don’t even know what I’m about to say!”

“your hand says enough!” you take it out from underneath your shirt and place it over.

“okay, excuse me for living.”

you stay silent, a splitting pain shoots through you again. you sigh and nuzzle your face into his shoulder and return to your sadness. “‘m sorry again.”

“don’t apologize. do you need anything? water? medicine? sleep? me?”

“last two.”

“you’re in luck. I’m right here, you just gotta shut those pretty eyes of yours.”

“well shut the fuck up first. I can’t sleep when you’re talking.”

“my mouth is zipped shut.”

you mumble a quiet ‘thanks’ and close your eyes. though you don’t end up falling asleep until you ten minutes later because percy’s mouth was not zipped.

[vampcubus]

me getting the most diabolical idea abt sevika also getting thrown into the “tragedy avoided timeline” where instead of her and the reader being broken up, they’re married: no, i can’t laugh yet, i’ve gotta hold it in 🤭

[moonstruckme]

Like I said- sorry , I'm sending alot but you do what works for you 🪻🪻

Can I request apple pie - Eddie- for - red painted nails

Thank you 🪻

No need for sorries my love! Thank you for requesting :)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 655 words

You knock on the stage door, anticipation crackling in your fingertips. You feel close to bouncing on the balls of your feet. One thing you love about your goofball boyfriend is he never makes you feel stupid for being excited about something small; Eddie is always the most excited.

He sets the bar high even as he opens the door, a grin splitting his face. “Hey, baby. Didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

You guffaw, your offense only half feigned. “When have I missed a show?”

“I figure you’ve gotta get bored with them someday,” he says, but he clearly doesn’t believe it, taking your face in both hands to kiss you hello.

Eddie’s always loving on you, but he gets especially wound up before a show. The kiss is passionate, your mouths opening almost at the outset, and after a few seconds you have to restrain him with a hand on his chest. He gives your bottom lip a tiny nibble, but relents.

“I’m not bored yet,” you reply breathlessly. Eddie grins and steals one more to the corner of your mouth, short and sweet.

“I’ll try to keep you entertained,” he promises. His tone is several shades of smug. “I’ve got a surprise for you tonight. New song at the end of the set.”

Your heart zings. “Yeah? I’ve got a surprise for you, too.”

Eddie tilts his head. “What’s that?”

“Where’s your guitar?”

His eyebrows jump, interest thoroughly piqued. “It’s around. Why?”

“Take me to it?” You can’t seem to keep the smile off your face, and Eddie can’t seem to keep from mirroring it, though his is confused.

“Okay, weirdo.” He leads the way. You wave hello to his bandmates, letting him navigate you to where his guitar is standing against the wall in a corner.

Now, you feel a little bit stupid. You hope you haven’t built it up only to get it wrong. But you crouch beside the guitar, holding your fingers up to it, and the match is perfect.

Eddie gasps loud enough to make you laugh. He drops to his knees in front of you, staring at your red-painted nails with exaggerated reverence.

“Are you fucking with me?”

You laugh again, and he takes your hand in his. You keep your fingers splayed as he holds it out in front of him, eyes moving between his guitar and your nails. After a second he brings your fingers to his mouth, biting the tip of one between smiling teeth.

“Eddie,” you plead. You’d known he would love it, known he would make a big deal, but still he manages to make you feel shy.

He lets you take your fingers from his mouth but doesn’t let go of your hand. “How’d you do this?” he asks you.

“I just thought of it the other day.” You shrug, self-conscious. “I already had the polish, but when I was looking at it I thought they might be similar.”

“Similar? You cloned it.”

Your smile peeks out again. “I thought we could do yours sometime if you wanted. Like, before a show or something.”

Eddie makes a tortured groaning sound. He looks like he wants to bite your fingers again, but instead he kisses them.

“You’re too fucking cute,” he says, still beaming. “How did I get you?”

“You probably did something really despicable in a past life.”

“How dare you,” he exclaims, delighted. Kisses you hard, fingers tangling in your hair and body pressing close to yours. This time you don’t stop him, but after a while a loud cough from one of his bandmates pulls him away.

“Time to go?” you ask.

He sighs petulantly. “Yeah. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you,” he says, standing up and picking up his guitar. “My surprise is never gonna hold up against yours.”

“I only painted my nails,” you say.

“Exactly! How am I supposed to top that?”

[msschemmenti]

Blabbermouth Junior

Jennifer Jareau x Reader

Prompt: Reader is Henry’s Fifth Grade teacher and at his graduation he puts a little plan into action

JJ smiled softly as she smoothed the tiny gown over her son’s shoulders. She really couldn’t believe her first kid was heading to middle school. It felt like just yesterday a nurse had handed him over in a hospital room. Time flew, and she was honestly just so grateful to experience these moments with him. After ensuring the team wouldn’t have any cases this weekend, she and the team were all piling into the Elementary school gymnasium to watch one of their BAU kids move on to their next step.

“Oh Henry, you look so cute. I can’t believe you’re going to middle school. My baby.” JJ pouted as she smoothed her hands over the boy’s head. 

“Mom,” Henry whined but allowed his mom the freedom to fawn over her son. He looked around at his classmates a bit self-consciously but secretly loved having his mother there with him on such a big day. 

“Alright, friends! Let’s tell our families ‘see you later’ and start lining up.” A cheery voice called over the room, drawing everyone’s attention. JJ followed the sound of the voice and was shocked to see a young woman dressed in yellow at the end of the hallway. Her arms were extended toward the children in the hall and she had the kindest smile JJ had ever seen. All the other children hurried down the hallway toward the gym and as much as Henry wanted to follow, JJ’s hands had yet to leave his face. 

Garcia, who’d come to the back to snap pictures of her godson, studied JJ closely. She watched how the blondes eyes shifted from the woman’s face to her legs and quickly back. She definitely didn’t miss the way she was still holding Henry’s face either. With a knowing smirk she nudged JJ and looked down at Henry with a smile. “Hen, is that your teacher?” 

“Yeah, Ms. Y/Ln is the best.” Henry grinned up at Penelope before looking over his shoulder to the smiling teacher. 

“I bet so. Sweet, you’ve gotta stop staring at the cute teacher so the boy can go line up.” Garcia grinned, practically shoving JJ out of admiration. She scoffed indignantly before smoothing her hands over Henry’s hair one last time and letting him go. 

“I wasn’t staring at the cute teacher. I just can’t believe my baby is growing up.” JJ fumbled for words. Garcia rolled her eyes in disbelief but pinched Henry’s cheek affectionately. 

“Henry? You ready, bud?” Ms.Y/Ln asked as she sidled up to the three blondes left in the hallway. 

“Yes ma’am, if my mom is ready to let me go…” Henry teased causing JJ to roll her eyes and the other two women to laugh. 

“Awe, Henry be nice to your mom. Graduating fifth grade is a big deal. Pretty soon you’ll be off to college.” Ms. Y/Ln spoke pulling the graduation hat from her side on Henry’s head and allowing him to sprint down the hall toward the other students.. 

“Oh don’t remind me, I’m going to be even worse then.” JJ whined, placing her hand over her heart. 

“Let’s take it one day at a time sweet. I’ll take the emotional mother out to the gym so we can watch our little man walk the stage. So sorry for the hold up, Miss?” Garcia asked sweetly. 

“Oh where are my manners, I’m Ms. Y/Ln, Y/Fn Y/Ln.” The teacher smiled extending her hand briefly toward the tech analyst. 

“Penelope Garcia, the Godmother of all Godmothers. And this is Jennifer Jareau, Henry’s super mom.” 

“It’s great to meet you both. I’ve heard quite a bit about you Mrs. Jareau, Henry’s very fond of you.” Y/n smiled, sending JJ a wink. 

“Miss,” JJ corrected unconsciously. “And I can say the same about you. He’s been raving about you all year long, it’s really nice to finally put a face to a name.” 

Y/n smiled sweetly in thanks before looking to her watch for the time, “That warms my heart. We’re gonna get started in about a minute and I don’t want y’all to miss anything. I’ll remind Henry to smile real big when he walks.” 

“That would be great, come on Jayje I need to make sure Morgan got us good seats. Nice chatting with ya Teach!” Garcia called over her shoulder pulling JJ down the hall and toward the gym. JJ sent the teacher an apologetic smile before allowing Garcia to lead her to the ceremony. Both women squeezed through the other parents and family members to sit in their seats between the team. 

“There you guys are, what took so long?” Emily asked leaning over to look at the two women. 

“JJ was ogling Henry’s teacher.” Garcia answered. All heads turned to face the mother in a combination of shock and intrigue. 

“I was not ogling.” JJ protested. 

“Oh she so was. Just wait until you see her, you’ll all understand.” Garcia grinned as everyone chuckled at JJ’s expense. 

-

“Congratulations Henry!” Y/n smiled down at the boy as he rushed into the classroom. 

“Thank you Ms. Y/Ln.” Henry grinned up at the teacher. He’d always been pretty fond of his teacher. She really made the transition to fifth grade so easy for him and he was surely gonna miss her. 

“Are you excited to be going to middle school?” Y/n asked as she watched and waved at parents and children exiting the room.

“Yeah, I guess.” Henry answered. 

“You don’t sound too sure bud. What’s up?” Y/n asked squatting next to the the desk the boy was sitting on. 

“I’m just gonna miss having you as my teacher.” Henry confessed. 

“Well I get that kid, they probably won’t be as cool as me. But if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I’ll have any students as cool as you either.” Y/n teased ruffling his blonde hair maternally. Henry grinned at the praise and kicked his feet from the desk. 

“There’s our graduate!” Morgan called entering into the classroom. The remaining children and parents turned to watch as the team of Profilers filed in with gifts. They all scooped up the young boy with congratulations flying around. Y/n slowly floated over to her desk to give the group some privacy. 

As the team fawned over Henry, JJ found herself searching for Ms. Y/Ln unconsciously. As subtle as she thought she was being, she knew she was caught when Emily siddled up next to her sporting a knowing smirk. “She is pretty cute. I see why you were ogling.” 

“Oh God, not you too.” JJ groaned turning away from the teacher. 

“I’m just saying, she’s no longer Henry’s teacher and from what I’ve heard– Henry is pretty fond of her as well. Wouldn’t hurt to at least talk to her.” Emily encouraged. 

Before JJ could even respond, Henry was at her feet with a smile on his face. “Mom can I give Ms. Y/Ln the gift I got her before we leave?” 

“Of course honey,” JJ smiled fishing the card and candy out of her purse and handing it to Henry. 

“I’ll be quick.” He promised and then made a beeline for the teacher’s desk. “Ms. Y/Ln, I got you this gift and just wanted to give it to you before I left.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in glee as she took the card and candy from one of her favorite students, “Oh Henry, that’s so sweet. Thank you so much and you remembered my favorite candy.”  

“Yeah my mom let me buy it.” Henry answered. By now JJ had turned her attention to the two and was making her way over to them slowly. 

“Well that’s very sweet of her.” Y/n said catching JJ’s movement in her peripheral. 

“She also thinks you’re cute.” Henry threw in causing both Y/n’s and JJ’s eyes to widen comically. JJ was so shocked she even stopped walking briefly. 

Y/n blushed and giggled, “Oh?” 

JJ jumped into action and placed her hands on Henry’s shoulders before he could continue speaking. JJ and Y/n’s eyes locked and the embarrassment was burning behind both of their eyes. “Henry…” JJ sighed with a grimace. She went to deny and save face but she could hear Emily’s voice in the back of her head. It was already out, what was the harm in at least talking to her? “Well, I’d hoped I could tell you myself but Henry seems to have beat me to it.”

“Someone had to say it.” Garcia piped in from the group now listening. 

“Shut up Garcia.” JJ grumbled. “Henry go hang with the team.” 

“Of course mom.” Henry grinned going over to stand with Penelope, who highfived him in triumph. 

“Well Ms. Jareau, I’m extremely flattered. Even if Henry told me first.” Y/n smiled and leaned her head on her fist. 

JJ blushed a bit and ducked her head, “God I love that kid.” 

“He is rather special. Oh and if it wasn’t clear, I find you pretty cute as well.” JJ’s head popped up in shock and the blush returned with a vengeance. Y/n grabbed a sticky note from her desk and scribbled her number down. “Summers here and from what I’ve heard you’re pretty busy. How bout you give me a call when your free? I’d love to get to know you a bit better.” 

The group of profilers very childishly whistles and ‘oooo’ at the interaction and JJ could only roll her eyes before accepting the number with a promise to use it. They all said their goodbyes and just as they were about to exit the school JJ pulled her son into her side. 

“You don’t mind any of that with Ms. Y/Ln right? Cause if you do I won’t–” Before she could finish Henry wrapped her arm around her waist. 

“Oh I’m excited. I thought of the plan before the graduation started but I didn’t know if it’d work.” Henry grinned. 

“God I love you kid.” JJ sighed  and pulled him toward the car. Middle School is not ready for her boy.