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lupinqs · 4 months ago

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CRUSH CULTURE ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: paige has a hopeless crush on you, a cheerleader

☆ ━ word count: 5.4K

☆ ━ warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, this one’s tame

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, inspired by this request (lol i know this was forever ago)

☆ ━ author’s note: hiii i hope y’all enjoy—lemme know if you guys want a part 2 and if so send in ideas for it!!! i have been hopelessly uncreative recently!!! also yes i have been writing tmtc and safe and sound i promise—new chapter of tmtc should be out sometime this weekend, no idea on safe and sound because goddamn that fic takes me forever to write

PAIGE HAS ALWAYS noticed you—though, funny enough, at first it wasn’t because you cheered. That part didn’t even register until her junior year, when she started paying attention to things off the court. But she’d first noticed you back in her sophomore year, in that one class she didn’t feel like she needed at all. She’d often zone out, either doodling in the margins of her notebook or letting her eyes drift around the room as she let her mind wander. Her gaze would skip over classmates until, one day, it stopped on you.

And, God, she remembers that moment. The way she’d blinked, like she needed to reset her brain for a second because… well, you. It wasn’t anything specific, nothing she could even name at the time. But there was this something about you that made her stomach flip. From then on, whenever she zoned out, her eyes would find you before she even realized it. You’d be focused on your notes or lost in thought, completely unaware, and Paige would catch herself staring just a little too long.

She’d think about talking to you, but for some reason, you made her nervous. And that wasn’t something Paige was used to feeling—not with girls. She’d been confident her whole life, even a little cocky when it came to flirting, and her reputation certainly proceeded her. But with you, all of that confidence vanished. Her brain would go blank, her hands would fidget, and her heart would pound just watching you, sitting across the room. The idea of walking up to you, striking up a conversation, felt almost laughable. You’d somehow managed to turn her, Paige Bueckers, into a stammering mess with just a look.

And then there was the other part—the part that kept her from making a move even when she managed to work up the nerve. You looked so…straight. She knows it’s a stupid assumption, but something about the way you carried yourself—she’d convinced herself that you had to be straight. Maybe it was the way you fit in with the other girls, how they flocked around you like they were all in some effortlessly straight, picture-perfect group. Whatever it was, Paige felt certain you’d never look at her the way she looked at you.

So she let it go, or at least, she tried to. But you kept slipping into her thoughts, distracting her in that class, making her mind wander back to you when she least expected it. Her silly little crush on you lingered all through sophomore year, and even when summer rolled around, she found herself thinking of you every now and then, imagining what it might have been like to know you outside of that class.

Then junior year rolled around, and her whole world changed with that ACL tear. Benched for the season, her focus shifted in ways she never anticipated. Instead of charging down the court, she found herself sitting on the sidelines, watching, observing things she normally wouldn’t have noticed. And it was during one of those games, one of those long, frustrating nights when she just wanted to play, that she saw you again—this time, on the court as one of the cheerleaders.

At first, she couldn’t believe it. She actually had to blink a few times, like her brain was trying to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. This was her third year at UConn, and she hadn’t noticed you were a cheerleader ever. Maybe she really was just unobservant, but it truly shocked her. You looked completely different from how you did in class—more animated, more alive, like you were in your element. And when you started that long, impressive tumbling pass down the court, her jaw dropped. She didn’t even know you could do that, and it left her staring, heart hammering in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. (And maybe the tiny little uniform helped speed it up, too.)

From then on, Paige couldn’t keep her eyes off you during games. She’d always find herself watching you, wondering if you’d somehow feel her gaze, hoping that maybe, just once, you’d look her way. She spent so many games like that—sneaking glances, letting her mind wander, imagining what it might be like to finally work up the nerve to talk to you. But game after game, you never seemed to notice her, too focused on your routines, your teammates, and the cheering crowd around you.

And Paige? She knew she was hopelessly stuck. She’d sit there on the sidelines, feeling ridiculous, pining after a girl she couldn’t even talk to, a girl she thought she’d never really have a chance with. It was her worst crush yet—the kind that left her feeling off-balance, stumbling over her own thoughts, trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter—and she’d never even spoken to you. But each time she saw you out there, smiling, moving with that same effortless grace, she’d feel that same pull, that same quiet, persistent ache.

It’s senior year now, and Paige has one thing on her mind: basketball. It’s been more than a year since she’s played, and she’s determined to make this season count. All summer, she told herself the same thing over and over: Stay focused. Don’t get distracted. No more drifting thoughts, no more daydreams, and absolutely no more pointless crushes on girls she can’t have. And especially no crushes on you.

You, the cheerleader she’d spent too many junior year games staring at from the sidelines. You, the girl she still thought about when her mind wandered late at night, even though she knew better. No, this year, she was locking in. She’d worked too hard, too long, to let her head get all twisted up over you again. She was here to play basketball, not to chase after some unattainable crush.

But as she jogs onto the court for warm-ups, trying to ignore the butterflies that come with her first game back, her eyes somehow find you anyway. Just like they always do. And it’s like no time has passed at all. You’re laughing with the other cheerleaders, your hair perfectly styled in a half-up-half-down, a bow nestled in it, your uniform hugging you just right. The lights catch on your skin, giving you this soft glow, and your smile—God, that smile, so open and sweet and painfully distracting—has her heart skipping a beat before she even realizes it. Paige quickly snaps her eyes away, reminding herself she’s here to play, not to get lost in some imaginary world where she has a chance with you. This is her first game back, and even if it’s just an exhibition against Dayton, she’s got to make it count.

With a deep breath, she manages to brush you off. The pregame excitement kicks in, and her focus sharpens as the game begins. And it’s everything she’s been waiting for—the sounds of the court, the rush of the crowd, the thrill of moving with the ball in her hands again. She’s finally back, and for the first quarter, she’s locked in, feeling the rhythm of the game, feeling unstoppable.

Then it happens. KK makes a bad pass, and Paige is already in motion, chasing down the ball to save it from going out of bounds. She dives, stretching to reach it, but it’s just out of reach. Before she can stop herself, she’s crashing full speed into the sidelines—right into the cheerleaders.

Right into you.

The impact is quick and jarring, and she scrambles to her feet as fast as she can, heart hammering in her chest. She’s prepared to rattle off an apology when she realizes who she’s just barreled into. You’re significantly smaller than her, and her stomach drops as she takes in your wide eyes and the faint wince that flickers across your face. But you handle it with the same grace she’d always admired from afar, waving her off with a laugh and saying, “It’s fine! You’re good!” Your smile is easy, casual, and she’s even more mortified by how sweet you’re being about it.

She tries to apologize again, but you’re already brushing it off with that smile, and she feels her face heating up as she mumbles something unintelligible before hurrying back onto the court. But now her head’s a mess, all her carefully built-up focus gone, replaced by the embarrassing replay of what just happened. She tells herself to get it together, but it’s no use. Her mind keeps drifting back to the look on your face, to the sound of your laugh, to the softness in your smile when you waved her off.

The rest of the game passes in a frustrating blur. She’s off her rhythm, missing open shots she’d normally sink with ease, getting caught in rotations she usually anticipates. By the end, she’s only scored eight points—a painfully low number, especially for her—and she feels the weight of it like a stone in her stomach. She should be thinking about the game, her missed shots, how to get her focus back. But as she sits on the bench, watching the last few minutes tick away, all she can think about is you standing there, laughing off her clumsy collision, looking up at her with that easy, unbothered smile.

So much for not getting distracted.

After the game, Paige is still kicking herself over how sloppy her performance was. She lingers in the locker room, hoping to avoid any unwanted run-ins. But finally, when she’s convinced she’s given it enough time for everyone to clear out, she heads out into the quiet halls of Gampel Pavilion.

Except, of course, her luck isn’t that great. Just as she’s walking out, she spots you—still in your cheer uniform but with a UConn sweatshirt thrown over it, heading down the hall, cheer bag on your back. Her first instinct is to turn around, bolt back into the locker room, and hope to avoid any more humiliation, but it’s already too late. You look up, and your eyes meet, and suddenly she’s frozen in place, panicking because she’s actually staring straight into your eyes.

And then you smile at her. That smile, the one that sends her brain into a meltdown every time. But it’s so much worse now because your smile is directed at her. And, suddenly, you’re walking up to her and saying, “Hey, good game tonight,” and Paige is pretty sure her heart has stopped.

She tries to seem casual, to play it cool, but all she can manage is a shrug and a half-hearted, “Eh, wasn’t my best.” She’s hoping you don’t notice her stutter, but her cheeks are burning, giving her away.

You just wave it off, your dimple showing as you grin up at her. “Nah, this was just your warm-up. You haven’t played in, like, over a year. Next game you’ll drop thirty.”

Paige blinks, and the fact that you know she’s good at basketball—even though everyone knows she’s good at basketball—is enough to send her into a coma, she thinks. “Oh, gosh,” she says, rubbing the back of her neck, struggling to find words. “Gonna have to now, just for you.” The second it’s out of her mouth, she mentally facepalms. That totally sounds like she’s trying to flirt with you.

But you just laugh, eyes crinkling as you look at her, completely unfazed. “I’ll hold you to it,” you say, and that smile doesn’t waver.

There’s a pause, and Paige knows this is where you’re about to say goodbye, and she panics because, after two years of thinking and practically obsessing over you, she’s finally talking to you, and it feels too short, too fleeting. Before she can second-guess herself, she blurts, “Oh—uh, hey, about earlier… when I ran into you. I’m… really sorry about that.”

You shake your head, smiling even wider, brushing it off with an easy laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Happens all the time; more than you’d think.”

There’s something so casual and warm about the way you say it, and she feels herself relax a little, caught up in the fact that you’re looking right at her, not at all bothered, almost… endeared? And for some reason, seeing your dimpled smile has her stammering like she’s never done before.

“So… uh…” Paige stumbles, her words failing, her confidence gone. “Are you, um, going to Ted’s tonight?” She bites her lip the moment it’s out, but she presses on. “You know, a lot of people go there after the first game—it’s kinda, like, a…thing. Which, y’know, I guess you probably already know about because… you’re, like, not a freshman…” She sounds so stupid. God.

You tilt your head slightly, considering, before you smile at her again. “I wasn’t really planning on going, but…” You pause, looking at her with a bit of a spark in your eyes, and for a second, she feels like she might actually combust. “Should I?”

Paige’s eyes widen, and she’s nodding before she can stop herself. “Y-yes! I—I think you’d have a good time.” She mentally scolds herself for the stutter, but you’re just nodding, still smiling, still looking so effortlessly at ease while she’s a nervous mess.

You laugh softly, a sound she’s sure she’ll replay in her head all night, and say, “Alright. I’ll think about it. And if I do decide to go, I’ll see you there, Bueckers.”

And with one last smile, you turn and walk away, leaving her standing there in shock, her heart racing and her mind replaying every word you just said. She’s tempted to pinch herself, convinced this has to be some elaborate daydream because there’s no way she actually just talked to you.

She doesn’t move for a long moment, replaying the way you said her name, the sound of your laugh, and the chance that she might actually see you tonight.

IT’S LATER in the night at Ted’s, and Paige is doing her best to stay composed, talking with one of the guys from the men’s team. Dirty Shirley in hand, she’s feeling just the faintest buzz, not enough to loosen her grip on reality but just enough to feel the edges of her confidence soften. She’s nodding along to something the guy’s saying when, over his shoulder, she spots you walking in.

Paige’s attention falters as she takes you in. You’re in baggy jeans that hang low on your hips, and a leather tube top that clings in all the right places, dipping enough to make her gaze lower slightly. She can barely tear her gaze away as you head over to the bar with a couple of friends, both of whom Paige recognizes from the cheer team. You’re laughing, leaning into one of them, completely at ease, and she can’t stop watching.

She realizes she’s staring a little too long, so she quickly excuses herself, not to talk to you—God, no, she can’t even think straight around you—but to hide by her teammates before she does something stupid. Her teammates notice her the moment she approaches, grinning as they watch her flustered expression.

“You see who just walked in, P?” Azzi teases, nudging her.

Paige groans, cheeks burning. “Don’t start.”

But they’re all laughing, and Ice is elbowing KK with a smirk. Nika, who’s been listening with a barely disguised grin, rolls her eyes. “Okay, this is ridiculous. You’ve had a crush on this girl since, like, forever. Go talk to her.”

“Are you kidding? I can’t. She’s—” Paige doesn’t even finish the sentence, glancing over her shoulder just in time to see you at the bar, waiting for your drink. She’d be lying if she said her confidence hadn’t evaporated the moment you walked in, looking like that.

“Girl boo,” KK sighs dramatically, before grabbing Paige’s wrist and dragging her toward the bar. Paige stumbles after her, mumbling weak protests, but KK is determined, practically hauling her across the crowded floor until they’re standing right next to you. KK orders a Sprite, leaning casually on the bar and glancing over at you with a grin. “Hey, girly pop! You cheer, right?”

You smile, looking more at Paige than at KK, and Paige’s heart thuds against her ribs. “Yeah, I do,” you say, introducing yourself and holding out a hand to KK, but your gaze flickers right back to Paige, who’s half-hiding behind her friend, cheeks pink and looking slightly caught. “Hi, Paige.”

Paige’s voice comes out a little sheepish. “Hey.”

KK smirks, clearly satisfied, and gives Paige a quick wink before excusing herself, leaving Paige standing there alone with you.

There’s a beat of awkward silence as Paige shifts on her feet, trying to keep herself from looking like an idiot, which is hard considering how aware she is of every single thing about you—your posture, your smile, the way you’re leaning in just close enough that she can catch a faint hint of your perfume.

“So,” Paige says, trying for casual. “You glad you came?”

You tilt your head, your lips quirking up. “Hmm, not sure yet. I’m not too impressed so far.”

She nods, stifling a wince, feeling more awkward than she can ever remember. And yet, her mind’s racing, urging her to just go for it, because this is her moment. She’s Paige Bueckers—she’s supposed to be confident. She always is. Besides, if you’re not interested, at least she’ll know. And if you are…

She hesitates, then swallows, trying to keep her voice steady as she says, “Um… can I buy you a drink?”

There’s a flicker of something in your eyes—maybe amusement, maybe surprise—and she’s mentally bracing herself for you to say no when you glance at the bar and say, “Actually, I just ordered one.” Her heart sinks a little, but she forces a smile, trying to play it off. Of course you’re not interested; she should have known better—

Then you’re leaning closer, nudging her elbow with yours, and you smirk, your voice soft and playful. “But you can buy my next one, if you want.”

Paige’s brain short-circuits as your words settle in, her mouth going dry as she realizes what you just said. “Uh, y-yeah, totally,” she manages, trying to keep from looking as giddy as she feels. “I…I’d love to.”

Your smirk turns into a grin, and you’re looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. She’s trying to come up with something smooth to say when, suddenly, one of your friends pops ups beside you and Paige, tugging on your arm, pulling you off the barstool and towards the crowd with a teasing, “Come on!”

Paige opens her mouth to protest, but before she knows it, you’re being swallowed up into the throng of people—not before you send her a quick, apologetic look over your shoulder, your friend still dragging you. Paige frowns, a little disappointed, but quickly catches herself. It’s fine, she thinks, though a twinge of regret lingers. She pushes it aside, grabbing her drink from the bar and returning back to her table, telling herself to focus on celebrating. She’s finally back on the court, and after such a long, difficult recovery, tonight is meant to be about unwinding. So she does, letting her team hype her up as they cheer and clink their drinks in her honor, pulling her deeper into the night.

As the time passes, Paige’s frustration eases, replaced by a warm buzz that dulls everything except the elation of being surrounded by her friends. But even as she sips her drink, she can’t help but think about where you’ve disappeared to, if you’re still here, still laughing with your friends somewhere across the bar. She finds herself scanning the crowd more than once, looking for a glimpse of you. She tries to push it down, laugh it off with another round, but every time she looks around, her gaze seems to search for you.

Eventually, the heat of the crowded bar gets to her. She feels flushed, dizzy from the alcohol and the mass of people, so she slips out the back door for some air. The cool breeze hits her face, and she closes her eyes for a second, sighing as the sounds of the bar fade behind her. She barely has a moment to herself before she notices a figure sitting just a few feet away.

It’s you, sitting on the curb, looking down at your hands as if lost in thought. Paige blinks, unsure if she’s seeing things. But then you look up at the sound of the door closing and smile, that familiar, gentle smile that makes her heart stutter. You seem just as surprised to see her, but your expression softens, like you’re genuinely happy she’s there. And that’s all the encouragement Paige needs.

“You care if I join?” she asks, trying to sound casual, even though her heart’s racing.

“Not at all,” you reply, and she takes a seat beside you, a bit closer than she planned. She feels your warmth even in the night air, and it makes her head spin in a way she can’t blame on the alcohol.

There’s a pause, a comfortable silence stretching between you. Paige watches as you draw patterns in the gravel with your fingers, the lights from the bar casting a soft glow over your face. She swallows, summoning up the nerve to say something—anything that might keep you sitting here with her.

“Why you out here?” she starts, genuinely curious.

You shrug, glancing back toward the bar. “Got a little claustrophobic in there,” you say, voice soft.

“Yeah… me too,” Paige nods, grateful for the fresh air and this quiet moment with you. The silence returns, but this time, it’s charged, heavy with something she can’t quite put into words.

Finally, Paige finds her voice again, her words slipping out before she can think them over. “You’re a good cheerleader, y’know. You do all those flips and shit—it’s impressive.”

You let out a small laugh, looking away for a second as if flattered. Paige is almost certain she sees a faint blush on your cheeks, and the sight makes her smile a little, lips curving upward. “Didn’t know you really paid attention to the cheerleaders,” you respond, teasing.

Paige scoffs, shrugging as if it isn’t a big deal, even though she feels like she’s been caught in some sort of confession—which, she kinda has. “Well, I did sit out for a year, so… I had to find something to watch.”

You tilt your head, smirking as you ask, “So you chose to watch me?”

Paige’s cheeks warm, and she silently thanks the alcohol for the courage that lets her meet your gaze. “Yeah,” she murmurs, watching as you look away, biting your lip as if trying to hide a smile. The sight makes her heart skip in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

After a moment, Paige adds, “I think we… had a class together, couple years ago?”

You nod, eyes lighting up at the memory. “Yeah, we did. Sociology, right?” you reaffirm, nodding in tandem with her. “’M surprised you remember that—you always seemed so disinterested.”

Paige nearly blanches, genuinely surprised you’d noticed her too. She didn’t think you’d have remembered her, much less noticed her back then. The notion gives her some of her usual confidence beck and she manages a chuckle, shaking her head and tilting it slightly toward you as she murmurs, “Ah, so you were watching me too, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you as you nudge her shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter, but the blush on your face doesn’t go unnoticed.

There’s another pause, the two of you sitting side by side in the quiet, both of you lingering on the edge of something unsaid. Finally, you break the silence, voice soft and hesitant. “How come you never said anything before?”

Paige swallows, the question catching her off guard. She doesn’t know how to answer without giving herself away, without admitting the way her stomach twists every time she sees you around campus. So instead, she asks, turning the question back on you, “How come you never did?”

You don’t seem to mind that she didn’t really give you an answer. Instead, you just shrug, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know… you make me kinda nervous.”

The confession makes Paige’s heart alight, feeling like it’s on fire and might spread throughout her whole body. She’s used to people being in awe of her for basketball, for her skills on the court. But hearing you say that you feel that way too, like she’s someone more than just her reputation, shakes her. Besides, you’ve always seemed so incredibly at ease around her, never even bothering to look her way. So, almost incredulously, she asks, “Why?”

You scoff, looking at her like she’s missing something obvious. “Um, because you’re Paige Bueckers. Basketball prodigy, campus celebrity.” You raise your eyebrows at her. “I think most people would be.”

Paige feels a rush of warmth at your words, the way you say her name like it means something special. She searches your face, feeling the air grow thick around you, heavy with something she couldn’t quite name. And maybe it’s the alcohol in her system, maybe it’s the way you’re looking at her like she’s somehow both intimidating and endearing at the same time, but she’s feeling bold. Bold enough to keep this conversation going, to see where this moment might lead.

She clears her throat, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Well, if it helps… you make me nervous.”

You laugh, a little breathless, clearly surprised. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious,” Paige insists. “You ain’t see the way I stuttered around you earlier? Ion know, ma, you just kinda fuck with my head.”

She watches, grin widening, as you blush at her words, the color blooming across your cheeks. It’s addictive, seeing you react like that—because of her. She doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when you ask, gaze set out in front of you instead of on her, “Why would I fuck with your head?”

It’s a good question, one Paige asked herself for a long time. It never took her long to figure out the answer. Though, she’s a little nervous to explain herself.

And she gets even more nervous when your gaze slides back onto hers, your head turning towards her. Paige’s smile falters, just slightly, at the eye contact. It’s intense, the kind that feels like it’s holding the world still for a second. Paige’s heart is a drum in her chest, each beat vibrating through her veins. Her eyes slide across your face, your features, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the faint shimmer glitter swiped along your eyelids. She catalogues every detail as if she’s never going to get this close again—a very real possibility if she doesn’t up her game.

Finally, she leans in—just slightly—her voice low and steady as she answers you. “You got this positive energy that makes you just… stand out in front of a crowd. Big smile. Bright eyes. Mm, I just… like seeing that in people.”

The words settle in the space between you, warm and lingering. Paige hesitates, letting them wrap around you both before adding, her voice dipping lower, her boldness shooting upward, “And it doesn’t help that you’re too beautiful for your own good.”

You blush deeper this time, cheeks tinted more red than pink, and it makes Paige’s heart skip. She can’t help the way her lips twitch into a grin. She’s waited so long to see this—see you flustered because of her. It’s everything she imagined and more.

“Stop,” you protest, fighting a smile as you push at her hands, your tone not carrying any weight behind the word. Paige just laughs, soft and easy, catching your hand in hers before you can pull away. She lifts it slightly, letting her thumb brush over your knuckles as she murmurs, “Nah, really.”

It’s then that the air changes—shifting into something heavier. The space between the two of you is practically nonexistent at this point, your sides tucked right into each other. You’re staring at one another, and Paige can’t help it when her gaze flickers down to your lips, just for a second. But it turns out to be enough. Because then she sees your eyes dart to her mouth in return, lingering there. And that’s when Paige knows.

Still holding your hand, she locks her gaze on yours, her voice firm but soft when she repeats, “Really.”

It’s like that word unlocks something between you because suddenly you’re leaning in, and Paige is doing the same, her breath catching the moment your lips touch hers. It’s soft, tentative at first, like neither of you are quite sure if this is real. But then you press into her just slightly, and Paige swears the whole world tilts on its axis.

The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, and Paige feels her whole body light up. Your lips are warm, soft, and you taste faintly of tequila and strawberry chapstick. It’s intoxicating, the way you move against her, gentle but with enough purpose to make her head spin. Paige’s hand slides up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

Your fingers grab at her bicep, holding on like you don’t want to let go, and it sends a thrill through her. Paige’s lips part slightly, and when you follow, letting her slip her tongue into your mouth, it’s like a fire ignites somewhere deep inside her. The kiss isn’t frantic or messy—it’s unhurried, like the two of you have all the time in the world to explore this. She can feel the heat of your skin where her hand cups your face, and she wants to memorize every second, every sensation.

The way you tilt your head just a little, giving her more access, nearly undoes her. Paige tilts her own in response, deepening the kiss further, her fingers slipping from your jaw to the back of your neck. The touch is light, almost reverent, but the closeness makes her heart race.

Your other hand moves, grazing against her side before resting lightly on her hip. Paige’s stomach flips at the contact, her body leaning instinctively closer to yours. She swears she can feel the warmth of your breath between kisses, the subtle hitch when she nips at your bottom lip.

It’s slow, it’s sweet, but it’s intoxicating. Paige swears she’s never kissed anyone like this before, never felt this much just from simple lip-locking. When you pull back slightly—not breaking the kiss entirely, just catching your breath—she can’t help herself. She follows you instinctively, her mouth chasing yours in a way that feels both vulnerable and utterly fearless. You allow her to, tongues half entwined between your swollen lips.

When you finally part, Paige keeps close, her forehead gently pressing against yours, her hand still cradling your neck. Neither of you moves far, the space between you so small your breaths still mingle, soft and warm against each other’s lips. Paige’s eyes flutter open, but she doesn’t look away from you, her gaze locked on yours like you’re the only thing in the world that matters—which, right now, you might as well be.

Her voice comes out lower than she intends, husky and laced with something she can’t quite hide as she murmurs, “You gonna let me buy you that drink now?”

Your lips curve into a slow, easy grin, and Paige feels her chest tighten, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of it. You’re so close she can see the faint glimmer of mischief in your eyes, the way they soften as you look at her.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice soft but sure, “I’d like that.”

The way you say it, the way your smile widens just slightly after, makes Paige’s heart race all over again. She can’t help the small, satisfied smile that spreads across her face. Paige leans back just enough to take in the sight of you—your flushed cheeks, the way your hair’s slightly mussed, and that lingering, breathtaking smile she knows will haunt her in the best way.

“Good,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing your jaw lightly one last time before she pulls away completely, standing up and offering you her hand. When you take it, she holds on a little longer than necessary, leading you back into the bar, already planning how she’s going to keep you smiling for the rest of the night—and, hopefully, much longer afterwards.

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lillymmb · 2 months ago

Text

"Finish Line"

husband!charles leclerc x interviewer wife!reader

warning: none

summary: you are a interviewer and you go to interview your husband after race.

It had been a long race day. The sun was setting over the Monaco Grand Prix, casting a golden hue over the circuit as the cars rolled into the paddock after a grueling race. The crowd was still buzzing, the air thick with excitement, but inside the Ferrari garage, Charles Leclerc was both exhausted and elated. He had finished strong, a solid podium finish, but his mind kept drifting to one thing—and one person.

You.

You, the sharp-witted, kind-hearted interviewer who had somehow become more than just a face on the grid to him. The two of you had met years ago, when he was still rising through the ranks. You were a reporter at the time, covering F1 for one of the biggest sports networks, and there had always been an undeniable connection between you two. What had started as a professional interview blossomed into something much deeper—a friendship that grew into love.

Now, years later, you were no longer just an interviewer for the press. You were his interviewer. You had been married for almost a year, a beautiful and intimate wedding that had taken place in the heart of Monaco, far from the watchful eyes of the media. You both had done your best to keep the relationship under wraps, but when you were in a room together, there was no hiding the way you looked at each other. The love was clear to anyone who saw you.

As Charles walked into the media pen, his heart raced not because of the crowd or the anticipation, but because he knew you were waiting for him. You were set to do your usual post-race interview with him, and although it was just another professional exchange on the outside, to him, it was something far more personal.

You stood in front of him, holding a microphone, your eyes lighting up as he approached. The moment you locked eyes, he felt that familiar spark. You both exchanged a quick, affectionate glance, but quickly composed yourselves as you began the interview.

“Charles, congratulations on a strong finish today!” You smiled, your tone warm but professional. “How do you feel about your performance today?”

Charles chuckled, wiping sweat from his forehead, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. “It was a tough race, but I’m happy with the result. The car was great, and my team did an amazing job.”

You nodded, maintaining your composure, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered as you watched him. He was glowing—physically tired, yes, but still exuding that charm that had first drawn you to him.

“And, of course, with this result, it means more points for the championship standings,” you continued. “How do you feel about the way the season is shaping up for you and the team?”

Charles leaned in slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye, his voice lowering just a little. “I think it’s going to be a great season. But you know what? I’m just happy I have a lot of things to look forward to, both on and off the track.”

You raised an eyebrow, feeling the heat of his words, though he kept his tone light. You knew he wasn’t just talking about the race. There was an underlying meaning, a private moment only the two of you shared, and you could see the spark of something in his eyes. But, of course, you couldn’t let your personal relationship slip into the interview just yet.

“Of course,” you replied, trying to maintain your professionalism. “And speaking of looking forward to things, we all know how hectic this life can be. How do you balance your career with, well, everything else?”

Charles paused for a moment, his gaze fixed on yours, and the room seemed to quieten. “Well, it helps to have someone special by your side,” he said softly, his voice steady but with a vulnerability that only you could detect. “Someone who gets it. And, you know… someone who keeps me grounded.”

The subtle confession hung in the air, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. You knew he was referring to you, and your heart skipped a beat at the way he spoke so openly, even in front of the cameras. But you had learned to read his cues by now—there was only so much he could say in public.

As the interview wrapped up, Charles stepped a little closer to you. “I’m done here,” he said with a grin, clearly eager to leave the media chaos behind. “Let’s go somewhere quieter, yeah?”

You nodded, trying to suppress the excitement coursing through your veins. You knew exactly where this was heading.

As you both made your way toward the back of the paddock, the sounds of the crowd and the camera flashes faded into the background. You turned to him, glancing up at his handsome face, and before you could say a word, his hand found yours.

“I’ve missed you,” Charles murmured, his voice low and sincere, filled with longing.

“You saw me this morning,” you teased lightly, though your heart was racing.

“I mean, really missed you.” His thumb gently caressed your hand, sending a rush of warmth through your body. “Every time I leave you, it’s like there’s a part of me that stays behind.”

Your breath hitched at his words, and without thinking, you stopped walking, turning to face him. There was a hunger in his eyes, a need that mirrored your own.

“Charles,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “We’re in public.”

He didn’t care. His hand came up to your cheek, gently cupping it, his thumb brushing across your skin. “I don’t care. I’ve waited all day for this moment.”

And before you could protest or say another word, his lips were on yours, gentle at first but quickly deepening as he pulled you closer. The kiss was everything you had both been holding back, a rush of passion and relief as the world around you seemed to disappear. It was raw and real and completely unapologetic.

You moaned softly against his lips, your arms wrapping around his neck as he deepened the kiss, pressing you against the cool metal of the paddock wall. There was no race, no crowd, no cameras—just the two of you, lost in each other.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing heavily, he smiled. “I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you this morning.”

You laughed softly, still catching your breath. “You’re insufferable.”

Charles grinned. “You love it.”

You smirked, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “I do. But we should probably get out of here before someone sees us.”

“Who cares?” he murmured, taking your hand once more. “I’m married to you. I’m proud of it.”

You smiled, knowing that despite the rush of being part of this high-stakes world, it was moments like this—private, genuine—that made everything worth it.

“You’re right,” you agreed. “Let’s go home.”

And with that, you both walked away, side by side, ready to face whatever the world had for you, but more than anything, ready to enjoy the quiet moments together.

a/n: i love charles so much i wish i was a formula 1 interviewer

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

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pepshee · 1 month ago

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Jealousy, or Jealous Hee

⋆˙ ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Pairing - ex!heeseung x fem!reader

Genre - college!au, smut, angst, exes to ??

Word Count - 3.2k

Synopsis - Heeseung was the perfect boyfriend and your first for everything romantic. When he broke up with you out of the blue and changed his entire personality you didn't know what to do. Until you saw him at a house party that is.

Warnings - cursing, drinking, angst, suggestive, mentions of jake + other idols, arguing, heeseung is a playboy, house party, creampie, oral (f rec.), p in v, mentions of smoking, lmk if i missed anything ! 18+ MDNI!

A/N - this is only my second fic ever and i didnt expect ppl to actually like the last one.. i'm adding smut this time cause i feel it's fitting. please give feedback!! this also might be a multi part fic if ppl want it... this is my first time writing smut too i hope it's good for yall😞 ive read a ton of smut fics so im using those as my references 🙏

PART TWO

Your relationship with Heeseung was going super well. Everyone said you two were soulmates, and were made for each other. You were practically glued at the hip, and did everything together including applying to the same college. You guys celebrated so much when you were both accepted. You knew you wouldn't be in the same dorm per the university guidelines, you both were still so happy.

It was everything you could ever ask for. The summer before college you two went on a long beach trip by yourselves even though neither of your parents approve, but who cares? You're adults now anyways.

The beach trip went super well and you two had lots of fun together, and lots of sex..

He helped you move into your dorm as back to school season is starting and everyone knows it's better to move into your dorm prior to starting school. You also helped him move into his dorm as well.

That was two and a half years ago though.. He broke up with you two days before the first day without an explanation..

────୨ৎ────

It's been two and a half years since the breakup and you still never got an actual reason. All you know is two days before both of your first days of your freshman year in college he texted you saying, "I wanna break up, I'm sorry, I'll miss you," that's it.

After the breakup he changed completely. He became a playboy. He started smoking, drinking alcohol, going to house parties, hooking up, and he'd skip classes sometimes. You never could've imagined he'd do this. To you he was a perfect angel, but it's like a switch flipped on him.

You're both now in your junior year of college. You both went your respective ways but you're not over it, and you don't think you ever will be. When he broke up with you, you cried all night and all day, never leaving the bed nor the dorm. Your roommate, Giselle, only having known you for a week had taken care of you and comforted you. She's now your best friend and she still hears you cry sometimes but pretends not to hear it knowing you were trying to hide it.

Heeseung broke your heart and you don't think you could ever recover even nearly three years later. What's even worse is that he became popular. You heard about his every move pretty much considering everyone was pretty much obsessed with him. It was always 'heeseung this' or 'heeseung that,' you were sick of it. Not because you hated him, hell, how could you hate someone you dated since your freshman year of high school?

You had always heard about his new girlfriends cause it was always the next big news on campus, which you never understood considering they'd only last a maximum a week. This new version of him was unlikable, at least to you, others didn't seem to care that he kept playing these girls. They somehow keep throwing themselves at him claiming they're different. They always expect to be the one to 'fix him' or the one he decides to keep but it never ends up working for them.

The more you heard about him the more it seemed like he was trying to stray far from the lover boy personality he had years ago. The truth is that you still love and miss him, you know it's far gone by now but how could you forget dating someone for five years just for him to break up with you without an explanation?

You couldn't bring yourself to confront him, text him, nor talk to him. It was like that part of your life was imaginary. You hated it, you hated that it happened like this, and most of all, you hated that you didn't know why.

────୨ৎ────

Today you and your friends had planned to go to your friend's house party. Years ago you wouldn't have imagined going to a college party, but that's because you and Heeseung were together and you would've rather hung out with him. Now that you're broken up, you figured at least the free alcohol could help. You've gone to a few parties now, but only the ones that are on weekends.

It was Friday and you only had two classes today. One that was two hours long, and one that was about an hour and a half. You get up and get dressed, wearing just a casual T-Shirt with some shorts as it was pretty warm outside. You finish getting ready, and do your makeup, curl your hair, and grab your stuff before leaving your dorm room.

Your first class was pretty boring as always. it was a literature class which honestly didn't even go with your major but you still had to take it for some reason.

Your second class was also boring, but thankfully it was shorter, even if only by 30 minutes.

Finally, you were done with classes for the day and you and your friends decided to meet up at a nearby restaurant to eat before the party because you're all likely gonna drink alcohol.

After arriving at the restaurant you wait out front for your friends to arrive. It only takes them a short while. All of you walk in to get seated and order your food and drinks.

"So did any of you see Heeseungs new girl?" Your friend Moka had asked. Your friends knew about your history with Heeseung, but they still insisted on gossiping about him for some reason. "No, who is it now?" Giselle was curious, as always, she loved to gossip.

"It's Nayeon, she's so pretty. Do you guys think he will ever settle down with someone?" Yujin responded, you stayed silent throughout the exchange which was a normal occurrence whenever Heeseung was brought up.

Finally the waiter brings all of your orders. You all start to eat and enjoy the food you had ordered. You thought they would drop the topic of Heeseung but they didn't. "Hey look at Heeseung's story!" Karina turned her phone to the rest of you. On the screen you see a photo of Heeseung, with Nayeon, but it's in the cafe you two used to go to all the time when you were together. The text on the photo reads "same place, different person," it was like he was taunting you, like he knew you would see it, like he knew you'd be affected. You tried not to let it show but he was right, it did affect you.

All the memories started flowing back of all the times you two went there, you went so much to the point the employees already knew what you both would order without having to ask. It was your favorite place to go when you had downtime, and when you could leave school in the middle of the day when you were seniors in high school. You had never imagined a life without Heeseung but now you do and it's hard.

You're pulled out of your thoughts by Giselle speaking to you. "Y/N, are you okay? You seemed out of it, and you haven't touched your food much," you nodded letting her know you're okay. "Yeah, I'm fine, sorry," you reassured everyone and went back to eating.

────୨ৎ────

The time of the party was now approaching. You all decided to facetime while getting ready. You decided to get a little scandalous with your outfit which you usually never did. You put on a black lace cropped tank top, with a denim mini skirt which was just a bit too small for you, but that's the point. You put on a pair of thigh highs, heels, do your makeup, curl your hair, and finally add some finishing touches of jewelry.

You and Giselle leave your dorm and head to the campus courtyard to meet up with the other two girls. "Oh my god, Y/N, you look so hot, you have to dress like this more often," you giggle at Karina's compliments. The four of you meet your friend Minnie who is the designated driver. She doesn't like to drink alcohol, but she still wanted to go to the party so she agreed to be the DD.

It only took about 20 minutes to get to the party, you don't know whose house it was but it was pretty large. You all enter the party, and decide to split up. You head to the kitchen immediately wanting to drink some alcohol. You see multiple empty, full, and half-full bottles of various alcohols. You don't even pay attention to whichever one you grab, you just pour it into a cup. The alcohol leaves a small burning sensation in the back of your throat. You walk towards the living room where the majority of people are, but you spot someone you weren't ready to come face to face with yet as the wound is still wide open... Heeseung..

He was with his douchey friends that he had made after he did a complete 180 with his personality. The seven boys were always causing a stir, but they were so hot you had to admit...

You hadn't realized you were staring at him, but he had.

Heeseung was talking with his friends until he had a feeling someone was staring at him. He thought it was just another girl that wanted to suck him off or something. He turned his head to find you staring his way. He didn't really know how to react really, it's been a while since he'd since you despite you two being on the same college campus. He'd only seen you from a distance really.

The truth is he did miss you, and he would purposefully post his new girls just cause he knew you would see and would get jealous. He knew it was toxic and wrong but he didn't really care. At first he had no interest in posting the girls he was with because it would only be for a short while. That was until he started to miss you, miss everything you did together, miss your lips, your smile, your laugh, everything about you. That's when he started to try and make you jealous, and as far as he can tell it's working.

As he looks back at you his lips curve into a smirk before he excuses himself from his friends, "yo, guys, I'll be right back alright?" he announced. His friends give him small smirks knowing that usually when he excuses himself at a party it's for a girl.

You only realize he was staring back at you when he starts to approach you. You internally start freaking out not knowing what to do. Before you can come up with something he's already in front of you.

"Y/N. You're dressed... quite.. sexy.." His smirk gets even larger as those words come out his mouth. "You're also quite flushed, you're already drunk aren't you?" Shit, you hadn't even realized the alcohol had kicked in.

"What do you want Heeseung," you tried to sound mad and upset but it turned out more slurred than you wanted due to the alcohol in your system.

"To talk to my sexy ex-girlfriend, is there an issue?" You hated the cockiness in his voice. You hated how he was acting like nothing happened, like it was all okay, like you didn't cry, and throw up multiple days straight.

"Don't act like nothing happened. You broke up with me out of the blue.. You fucking hurt me." Your words now finally pack the punch you wanted the whole time.

"Come on don't act like that, seriously, just talk to me and be civil Y/N," a fake pout formed on his face as if trying to earn sympathy points from you.

"Can you take shit seriously for once? Ever since we broke up you changed and I fucking hate it! You would've never acted like this two and a half years ago!" You raised your voice at him, it's not loud enough for everyone to hear but some people nearby steal glances at the two of you. "Come on you don't mean that baby," He was starting to irritate you. Does he seriously have no shame? How did he end up like this?

"God you're so irritating you know that?! You're acting like you didn't break my heart, like you didn't leave me high and dry, without a rhyme or reason," now yelling at him because his act was getting to you, how could he be so nonchalant about this?

"Calm down okay? Let's talk about this when you're not drunk, don't cause a scene, you're gonna regret it later baby," his words weren't working on you, but then you then you thought about it. Maybe he was right, you should calm down, you hated creating scenes.

"Why're you calling me baby Heeseung?" Your voice is now softer, no longer yelling at him.

"You used to be my baby," you really didn't know how to react to his words, after all it's his fault you're broken up.

Your thoughts are immediately interrupted by his lips on yours. A feeling you haven't felt in so long. The kiss begins to become more like making out, his tongue dancing with yours and his hands on your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

He breaks the kiss to catch his breath and to say, "you're so lucky my buddy Jake owns this house. Follow me to the bedroom baby," the alcohol, and desire completely throw all of your common sense and critical thinking out the window. He takes your hand and leads you upstairs to an empty bedroom.

Once in the bedroom he immediately closes and locks the door before pinning you against it. Before you can process anything his lips are once again on yours moving hungrily.

He breaks away to remove your top, which coincidentally you weren't wearing a bra under. He lets out a small gasp but then a smirk curves onto his lips. His hands grab onto your breasts kneading them before taking one into his mouth.

You moan at the sensation and move one of your hands to his hair gripping it lightly. "Hee–" your breathless words made him want you even more.

He releases your breasts and removes his own shirt, unbuttoning it quickly.

Seeing his bare torso after so long could've made you cum on the spot, you loved his abs so much, you'd caress them randomly even if you were just cuddling and watching tv. "You're drooling Y/N," he chuckles. "No I'm not!" trying to wipe the saliva that had escaped the corners of your mouth.

He takes your hand and drags you over to the bed pushing you down onto it gently. He climbs on top of you, now hovering above you. He kisses you again while his hands move to the waistband of your short skirt. He breaks the kiss for a moment, "can I?" he asks, waiting for you to grant him permission to remove it.

You nod unable to form words momentarily. He wastes no time unbuttoning the denim skirt and unzipping it. He pulls it down leaving you in just your baby pink lacy underwear.

"These are so cute baby, I love this new pair," Heeseung had seen pretty much every pair of your underwear while you were together. You two were quite the hormonal teenagers in high school.

He then removes his pants, now leaving the two of you in just your underwear.

He reaches to remove your underwear sliding it down your legs before tossing it somewhere in the room. He slowly spreads your legs giving himself a view of your bare pussy. "Just how I remember it... So wet and pretty for me. He'd always do this whenever you two had sex. He'd spend so much time complimenting your pussy as if it could hear him. You always had to beg and plead for him to do something to you. "I'm gonna eat her okay?" he looks up at you waiting for approval whilst positioning his head between your legs.

"Please..." he doesn't hesitate after hearing your breathless plea to start licking your folds. The sensation is one you haven't felt in a while making it feel foreign to you once again. "Hee—" you moan. Your fingers bury themselves into his soft locks.

He continues to lick and occasionally sucks on your clit. He then inserts two fingers and starts moving them in and out of you. The double stimulation from his tongue and fingers making you see colors, the grip on Heeseung's and hair and your grip on the sheets making your knuckles turn white slightly. It's surprising how you're not ripping out his hair at this point. "Shit- Heeseung.. I'm gonna c-cum!" You can feel him smirking against your cunt as your loud moaning signifies your approaching orgasm.

Before you can let it go he pulls away making you whimper at the loss of stimulation, and the emptiness without his fingers. You're about to complain but he opens his mouth before you, "I want you to cum on my dick, not my tongue baby."

He then pulls down his boxers revealing his hard length, the one you haven't seen in nearly three years. You still loved it though, it was so big, thick and veiny... It was one of your favorite things about him, how blessed he was to be so big.

He pumps himself a few times before positioning himself between your legs. "You ready for me?" you couldn't tell if he was talking to you, or your pussy but you responded anyway "yes... please..."

He slowly inserts himself into your entrance going slowly so you can adjust to his size. You moan at the feeling of him stretching you. He bottoms out, pausing for a moment to let you adjust. "Please— can you move," you whine. He chuckles at your words before he starts moving his thrusts starting out slow before he starts speeding it up, the sounds of skin slapping together fills the room as he splits your hole open. You can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix.

"You feel so good baby, just how I remember. So tight for me baby," he groans as he feels you clench around him at his words. "Seungie-" your fingers gripping the sheets tighter.

"I know baby, I know," he knew exactly what was happening. He loved the sound of you calling him his old nickname. "Let go for me baby, we'll cum at the same time."

All it takes is a few more thrusts for you both to let go, the knot that was forming in your stomach finally snapping. You felt his warm release coating your walls, and you felt your release mixing with his. He pulled out of you gently, careful as to not hurt you. You could feel the liquids spilling out and sliding down your ass.

Heeseung lays next to you looking into your eyes, "goodnight Y/N," he says softly. You give him a gentle smile before closing your eyes and going to sleep.

What happens now?

What happens between you two?

Do you get back together?

PART TWO HERE

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sublimitymp3 · 9 months ago

Text

Do you, brother?

Pairing ✵ Aegon Targaryen/Younger sister!reader

Warnings ✵ Hotd season 2 spoilers, incest, swearing, smut (Dub-con, p in v, fingering, choking, slight breeding kink), mentions of death, mentions of child loss, descriptions of birth, and heavy themes

Word count ✵ 2.6k

Summary ✵ The death of your son leaves behind a shadow upon everything, and after an overwhelming funeral procession for him, your evasive brother finally comes to you in the night.

Jaehaerys

Your little boy. Jae-hae-rys. The syllables roll off your tongue in a smooth manner, as they always have done. Sweet Jaehaerys. The very thought of the name conjures memories in your mind of the day you labored him and his twin into the world, screaming and writhing in pain as you felt as though you were being torn apart at the seams. He was a small, splotchy babe, who exited you covered in blood and wailing and squirming in the maester's arms. But even through your delirium and searing pain, you knew then what love was.

He was a precocious boy, eager to learn and to explore the world. "He has the makings of a very fine king," you recall your grandfather telling you once. The thought of Jaehaerys on that throne made your stomach feel uneasy, and the words loomed over you, lingering in the back of your mind and refusing to leave.

Even now it still lingers.

The once dreadful notion has been reduced to a silly daydream, for Jaehaerys will never be king. He will never grow, never explore the world, never ride his dragon, and you will never cradle him in your arms again.

It feels wrong to carry on. It feels wrong to do much of anything with the knowledge that your sweet Jaehaerys will exist only in memory now. Your mother tries to console you, to hug you in her cold arms, but you do not want her now. After all, what does she know about losing a child? The funeral procession your grandfather insisted on felt even more wrong than anything else.

Your son, the martyr.

Hundreds of the smallfolk clambered over each other to catch a glimpse of your little boy, and you. Your tears bought their sympathy and a new resentment for Rhaenyra, but it mattered little to you. They had sewn his head back on, you saw. It was an ugly sight, where black thread met severed skin.

Jaehaerys

How you longed to climb over to the cart carrying his body just so you could hold your boy one last time, but your mother's steadying and sobering grip on your knee kept you from doing so. "Deepest sympathies, my queen!" "Curse Rhaenyra!" "We love you, our queen!" Their shouts of support felt more like a ringing in your ear than anything. You didn't want this. You only wanted everything to be quiet.

You had a headache and felt nothing but exhaustion, and you couldn't even bring yourself to weep any longer. It was as if you were wrung dry. You cursed under your breath at the seemingly endless flights of stairs in the Red Keep, for all you wanted to do was to go and lay in bed. But then you saw him. First, you saw his hair, hair much like yours, only it was messily cropped short. Next was his eyes, violet in color and mirrors of your own. The scowl upon his handsome face, well, you didn't care for it, but you couldn't pry your eyes away. You found yourselves gawking at each other on the stairwell, and only then did you remember how much Jaehaerys looked like Aegon.

"Your grace, I-" Is all you can say before Aegon quickly turns away from you and hurries down the steps. You stand there, watching as the head of silver hair swiftly disappears from your line of sight. You snap your mouth close, pressing your lips into a firm line and continuing up the stairs. 'Foolish girl, when has he ever confronted anything in his life?' you cannot help but think.

You don't see your husband for around two weeks. Fleeting glimpses in the hallways, mentions of him from your mother, and murmurs about the king from the courtiers are all you have of him during that time.

As you prepare yourself for bed, you try to banish all thoughts of him from your mind to get some semblance of much-needed sleep. The nights seemed so long and torturous now, and yet you hardly could find sleep no matter what you did. Tonight was the first night in what seemed like centuries that you finally felt tired, and you wasted no time settling into bed to drift into a slumber.

You dream odd things, nonsensical things you'll forget when you wake, mostly. And even more odd, you begin to dream of Aegon. Of his strangely soft hands on you, of him pushing your nightdress up to your hips, and of him maneuvering you onto your back. It feels real, but you know it isn't. He won't come near you, no, not now. But even your mind begins to suggest otherwise.

With an irritated whine, you feel yourself being pulled from your sleep. It is only when you open your eyes to curse at what you assumed was a maid disturbing you, that your assumptions are quickly proven wrong.

Aegon is on top of you, staring unblinkingly into your eyes. Salty, hot tears drip from him onto your face, and his hand clamps down over your mouth before you can question him. You must make a face unwittingly, for he begins to speak,

"Shh, shh, it's alright, it's just me...just me," Aegon soothes, and you smell the wine on his warm breath. He's drunk. Or at the very least near drunk. "I-I am sorry, sorry for you, sorry for our boy. Oh, my poor son," his words are ever so slightly slurred, and he retracts himself to sit on the edge of the bed and weep in his drunken stupor.

You sit up, a bit startled to discover your nightgown bunched up by your hips. Your smallclothes were even pulled down a bit, but not fully. You realize now what he was attempting to do, and you can only sit in a tense silence with him. "He was my son too, you know," he mumbles like a petulant child, once he catches a glimpse of your resentful face.

"I grieve him just as much as you, mayhaps even more. He was my heir, my only heir," his words linger in the stagnant air, not sitting well with you. His gaze unnerves you even more, staring at you expectantly. The implications in his voice are clear to you; he means to beget another heir.

"Take another wife then, I am tired," The brazen words escape you (before you can think) in a whisper, and you lay back down, wasting no time to turn your back to him. "I don't want to again, I can't again. No more, Aegon." and you close your eyes, letting your tears roll down the side of the face.

You refuse to subject yourself to it all over again. To the aches, the uncomfortable swell of your belly, and the terrible pain birth brought. You know what it will all end in. It's a deep knowledge that has burrowed itself between your bones, embedded itself in your brain, and wrapped around your heart.

The Stranger will come for you all, surely.

The bed dips again as he shifts himself closer to you, and he grabs your shoulder in a bruising grip to turn you onto your back. His face gets so close to yours that the tip of his nose nudges your own, and you feel his warm breath fanning against your lips.

"I wasn't asking what you thought of it. You're my wife, my little sister. You were born for me to have. A king needs an heir, surely you understand that? You're not a stupid girl," he brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, mockingly, almost.

He manages to wedge himself between your thighs, and you feel his wandering fingers pull down your smallclothes. "Aegon-" "Don't say a word, don't say a damn thing," he interrupts, irritated by your unwilling mood. "Wouldn't it be nice to have another little babe to rock in your arms? Hm? We'll make more, yes? Enough to fill this fucking castle," Aegon grunts, pushing his fingers past your folds. A whine involuntarily escapes you at the invasive feeling, and even more so as he pumps his fingers in and out.

In and out, in and out, in and out.

You feel your body give into his ministrations and get wet. 'Betrayal,' you think. A pleased hum escapes from him as you leak onto his fingers, and you feel your cheeks burn with shame. This isn't right. No, no after what has happened.

"You weep down here too, did you know, sweet sister?" He mumbles, pulling his fingers out of you just to drag them along your dripping folds. A shiver runs up your spine at his actions, forcing you to bite your tongue to muffle any noises. You don't want him to hear you. You don't want to give him that satisfaction.

He fully retracts his fingers, and you know what is next. He undresses himself quickly, untying his breeches and tunic with a practiced speed before pulling your nightdress off of you, leaving you vulnerable and cold. He chuckles at your little shivers and the way you wrap your arms around yourself protectively. "Shh, do not worry, you'll be warm soon enough," he laughs as if this is a lighthearted moment between two lovers. Your stomach churns slightly.

"You're so beautiful, you know. I've never thought otherwise. So pretty like this, all for me," he whispers against the shell of your ear as he lines himself up with your cunt.

The burning stretch of the intrusion is what you feel first. It has been long since he bedded you, and your body had forgotten the feel of him. "F-Fuck, how are you so tight? Like you're trying to squeeze me to death," he groans against your neck, before suckling bruises into your soft skin. He bottoms out completely, and you feel his tip brushing against your sweet spot.

It's overwhelming for you. It's too much. You close your eyes and let your mind drift to happier days. Days long before you called Aegon husband, days when you would play with your sister by your mother's skirts. Days when the most daunting task was getting out of bed or letting the maids bathe you. It almost brings a smile to your face. Almost.

Your blissful daydreams and nostalgia are interrupted by Aegon gently slapping your cheek repeatedly, rudely reminding you of where you are now. "Hey, hello, where are you? Look at me, for fucks sake," he grumbles, slowing his thrusts you only now are noticing. He grips your face in his hands, forcing you to stare into his familiar violet eyes.

It's cruel to have to stare into your own eyes while this happens, you think.

"Don't do that again. Think of me," he whispers against your lips, his voice a bit shaky and heavy with lust. "Only me, and this."

His thrusts resume, and his lips are soon pressed against yours. He kisses you with a greedy, bruising force as if he's trying to devour you whole.

"Messy girl," he muses as he wipes drool off your chin with his thumb, and the action is oddly tender to you. The tip of his cock keeps brushing against your sweet spot, making your mind turn to mush and your legs turn to jelly.

You hate how Aegon has this talent to make your resolve slip with only a few touches and kisses. You could be upset with him for weeks on end, and yet all he had to do was hold you down and you'd soon forget whatever grievance you held against him.

"A-Aegon, brother, please-" you whine, even more so as he maneuvers your knees to press against your chest. He holds you down like this and the new angle allows him to push further into you. The sound of skin against skin reverberates in your chambers around you as he drives into you at a faster pace.

"Stay still, stay still. Quit squirming, don't you trust me, sweet girl?" He huffed, still irked by your light resistance. His hand reaches back down to your weeping cunt, and his thumb rubs gentle circles into your bud. The added stimulation makes you cry out with overwhelming pleasure, and you feel like your very bones are gyrating.

"There we go," he smirks, dragging out his words. He's found the combination that makes you fall apart around him and he finds it satisfying. "You like that, don't you? 'Course you do, sweet girl. You were made for me, made to take my cock and bear my children. You were born to be mine. Nothing more, nothing less," He groans, his own peak beginning to build up.

His words ignite a fire in your belly, and it feels so wrong. His words are mocking, demeaning even, and on any other given day and situation you'd have retorted and isolated yourself from him until you calmed down. But this night was not simply any other night. His words and his movements bring you closer and closer to the edge, and the coil in your belly tightens up as it prepares to snap.

"Aegon, gods, keep going, please don't stop-" you moan, lost now in the bliss of it all. You selfishly buck your hips against his, desperate for your own impending release.

"I got you, pretty girl. Go on, let go for me, sweet sister," and with his words, the tightly wound coil in you snaps. It is a white-hot pleasure that wracks through your body, and you feel as though you are floating.

You come to when you feel Aegon increasing the pace of his already rough thrusts. He is close, you can tell. You have no strength to tell him to pull out, to beg him not to finish inside. He's fucked you too good for that. Maybe that was his plan after all, you think.

"F-Fuck, I'm so close, sweetling. I'll fill you up, make sure you're nice and full with my seed. In nine moons time, we'll have another little boy, hm? Another silver-haired beauty," he pants, before his grip that still pushes your knees against your chest tightens. He brings one hand to squeeze around your throat, and you feel his fingers dig into the sides of your neck. There will be a bruise there in the morning, no doubt.

His movements are rough and fast as he chases his release, and soon, his steady pace falters and his hips stutter to a halt. "Gods be good," he moans, slumping over to bury his face into the crook of your neck. Spurts of his warm and sticky seed coat your velvety walls, a familiar feeling. Surely you will be with child by the next month.

Exhaustion is what you feel. Exhaustion, and a pang of sadness in your heart. Another babe you will have to labor into the world, another pawn in this war. Another victim of this needless bloodshed, as brother and sister tear each other apart.

Aegon gently kisses your lips, rubbing your stomach with his hand, no doubt imagining you are pregnant already. "I love you, I really do." He whispers, holding you close and breaking you from those thoughts of impending doom.

Violet eyes meet violet eyes, and you gaze upon his features that are not dissimilar to your own. The very same blood that runs through you, runs through him. The same blood that ran through your son, you think. You do not know what to make of his drunken declaration, and it is like your body speaks for you then;

"Do you, brother?"

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buck-star · 6 months ago

Text

Summer of love | B.B

Just before summer break you think you will spend all day in front of the television with lot of ice cream and even more romantic movies to dream about. Little do you know that your ex-boyfriend’s rival will turn your summer into a dream itself.

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x College!Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 11.106 Words

Warnings: college au, football captain Bucky, ex-boyfriend’s rival!Bucky, break up (not Bucky), fluff, love, bit angst, Bucky being emotional, love confession, more fluff, so much more fluff, did I mention: fluff!

Authors Note: The biggest thank you to @thevillainswhore for the title, for helping to decide pictures and proofreading. I’m so grateful and I love you!❤️❤️

Events: Writing Challenge | College Au; saying ‘I love you’ for the first time | @elixirfromthestars

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Endless love collection

Your world broke down when you looked at your phone and saw the message your boyfriend — now ex-boyfriend — sent you. It was just after the last lesson of the day — summer break had started.

You were sure as hell that he was going to fuck every girl that had an interest in him, which were a lot considering he was the captain of one of the college’s football teams.. He was handsome and well trained but his character? Well, that was something you would prefer not to talk about.

John was a nice, gentle boy when the two of you were alone. He took care of you and made you feel loved — most of the time at least. But whenever he was around his friends or anywhere the two of you could be seen together, he kept his distance. He didn’t bother to hold your hand or kiss you in public. When you had dates outside your dorms, it was mostly in small coffee shops or the next town where no one would see you together.

When you repeatedly asked him if he was ashamed, he would just shake his head and tell you that you overreacted, that he just has to keep his image, he couldn’t just date anybody. You tried to tell him that other boys show off their girls too but he still kept your relationship as much a secret as possible.

Even though people heard the rumor that the two of you were dating — some of them having seen you —he never made it clear that you belong to him. So you often had the bitchy girls who laughed at you, gave you side eyes or commented on your relationship with John. ‘How fake it was’ — and maybe they were right.

However, while John was probably using his whole summer to have fun and fuck around — having the best time ever — you would probably sit in your room and cry until your eyes burned. He hadn’t treated you as perfect as you wished for, like men do in your romantic books or movies, but he still ripped your heart out and shattered it into tiny little pieces. So, chocolate and lots of ice cream would become your best friends during your summer break, giving you the comfort you so desperately sought. You were sure you wouldn’t find a man who would love you.

Maybe it wasn't even that he broke up with you that hurt you so much, but the way he did it — through a message. He didn’t even have enough balls to tell you personally that he was done with you. No, he sent it as a message — two messages in fact, which now that you thought about it, made you want to punch him in his face. Hard.

You figured that was the reason why he hadn’t told you face to face. Because he didn’t want the backlash of your reaction. You may have been angry, but you would never lay a hand on him — even if he did deserve it. He may have broken your heart but you weren’t a monster. But for now, you were still sitting in school, staring at the message to try and find a little hint that it all was a joke. Your eyes were teary and your vision blurry when you re-read the message over and over again. There had to be a hint that it was a joke. He wouldn’t break up with you, right?

The feeling that John really meant those words settled heavily into your stomach. You inhaled deeply to try and stop your body from shaking. He couldn’t mean it — he just couldn’t. The two of you were together for two years already and he threw it away like it meant nothing to him. Or maybe the reason he mentioned in his messages is true and he just wanted to have a summer break.

Your eyes roamed over your phone once again. The screen was blurred by your tears but you could still read it. Over and over again but it didn’t change a thing, it only made your thoughts run faster and louder, but nothing else.

John: Hi, I’ll make it short. Things between us became boring and I know you wouldn’t allow me to have sex with anyone. Even though there wouldn’t be any feelings, I have to break up with you.

John: It’s neither your nor my fault, we just remind me of old people. We’re always doing the same things and I need action. So if you give me the summer break, we can date after the summer again.

He was your first real boyfriend but you didn't want to be second best. That’s exactly what you would be if you went back to him after summer break. He broke your heart, and he hurt you a lot — but that didn’t mean you were a naive, little fucktoy for him to use becuase it was easy to date you. You never complained much and he always had you when he didn't feel well or frustrated.

And John may have been right that things between the two of you became boring, but he never had time for you in the first place. Everything else was more important and when he did have time for you, it was mostly sex or he came over really late. The dates became very rare, and you just wished he would have had more time for you but you didn’t want to push him or force him either.

You lowered your phone and inhaled deeply. With one hand you wiped the tears off your face, trying to calm down before you felt ready to go home. They all were right, he played with you, or at least he was ashamed to be with you and you never noticed — or just ignored it.

“Whatcha doin’ here?” A rough voice came from next to you and you immediately tilted your head to look at the young man who took a place next to you on a chair. His brown, long hair was tied to a bun, just a few strands fell into his handsome face and framed it. He smiled softly at you, leaning on the table with his head still turned toward you. “Who’s causing those tears?”

His smile slowly faded when he noticed your red eyes and the traces of tears over your cheek. Almost instinctively, he brought one of his hands to your cheeks, cupping it softly. His thumb caressed your cheek, removing the tears. The brown haired man was gentle, his ocean blue eyes pierced into yours and when you finally offered him a soft smile, he grinned at you, again.

“So, who caused this pretty girl to cry at the beginning of summer break,” he asked, his voice rough but so soft. You almost melted into his touch, his warmth sending shivers through your body and you needed a moment to gather your thoughts before you spoke.

“I— my boyfriend or now ex-boyfriend. He sent me a message that he wants to have the summer for himself and after we could date again,” you answered, smiling softly at the man in front of you. He shook his head, knowing that the smile on your lips was nothing but fake, and as much as he loved to see you smile, he didn’t want you to force one onto your lips to play your hurt off. “What are you doing here still, James?”

James’ eyes widened when his name slipped past your lips. Before he could stop himself, he grinned even wider at you. “Ya know my name, huh, babydoll? I had something to clear up with the coach.”

“Of course, I do. You're one of the most famous boys in college,” you said and he nodded. You weren’t wrong. Even students who didn’t follow football knew of him too. On the other hand, your ex-boyfriend was James' rival. “You're the captain of the football team, or the captain of one of them. The other is John…”

James nodded again, then he cleared his throat and tilted your head up with his hand that still captured your cheek. “Yeah…” he trailed off slightly. “So, can we get back to ya statement, that he sent ya a message to break up with ya. Ya know that’s how little school boys do it.”

You chuckled softly, nodding. You definitely knew that it wasn’t a nice way to break up with someone you used to love but you couldn’t change it. You let your eyes trail over James' handsome face for a moment, taking in every small detail of his pretty face. You had never been this close to him before and he looked even more stunning up close.

“Ya droolin’, babydoll,” James pointed out and used his pointer finger to close your mouth. Your eyes widened and you wiped over your mouth, growling at him when you didn't feel the saliva. “Jus’ wanted to warn ya before ya make a fool out of ya'self.”

You nodded, glaring at him for a moment longer before you finally found the courage and the words to tell him what was on your mind since he mentioned that John's behavior was kind of childish. You inhaled deeply, letting your eyes wander back to his beautiful blue ones. Your tongue poked out, wetting your lips and you noticed with a giggle that James eyes immediately darted down to your lips.

“It's not the only shitty thing he did,” you mumbled. James' eyes widened in curiosity. He didn’t want to push you to tell him, but he would have loved to hear what his rival was like when he had such a pretty girl like you by his side. “He said we became boring, and that's neither mine nor his fault. Maybe he is right, but he never had time, it was mostly about sex, or nights together but otherwise he was always busy.”

You weren’t even sure why you told James about that but he was the only one who seemed curious and you just hoped he wouldn't use it against you. If anything, he would probably only use it against John.

James nodded, his eyes narrowed and he looked away for a moment. His hand never left your cheek and it gave you more comfort than you thought it would. But you were glad he sat down next to you and used his time to let you talk about John, offering you the comfort you were seeking so badly. When he looked back at you, his eyes glistened with something you had never seen before but it made you feel warm and safe with him.

“What a shame, with such a pretty girl by his side too…” he mumbled more to himself. “Did he at least introduce ya to his friends and family? The two of ya were together for over two years, right?”

You nodded slightly, definitely surprised by James' knowledge of your and John's relationship. “Yes but he didn't introduce me to his family. I know his friends but not really, he always tried to meet up when no one else was around.”

“So….” James trailed off, he already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it again — he wanted to hear that John was a dick who couldn't treat his girlfriend like a man but like a school boy. His ocean blue eyes were piercing into yours again, his lips were slightly curled up. “He didn't show you off — neither to his family, nor to his friends, when possible — not to the world?”

You shook your head. “N-No, not once… his friends saw us together maybe once or twice but we never went to their birthdays together. I-I was invited too, but John said I wouldn't like it there so he already told them I wasn’t interested in coming to their parties.”

“Dickhead,” James mumbled under his breath. His eyes never left yours and he inhaled deeply. “He's an idiot.”

You shrugged, smiling softly. But as much as you tried to hide the pain, it didn’t work with Bucky looking at you so intensely like he could read your soul. His fingers still caressed your cheek, two of them moving to your jaw and wandering along to your chin and back to your ear. “It's not that much of a big deal…”

James huffed with an amused expression on his face, shaking his head slightly. The few strands that hung in his face moved with his head from side to side. You wanted to wrap them around your fingers and play with his brown strands. “Oh, ya don't know how much of a big deal that is when a boy doesn't show off his girl by his side. If ya were mine, I would show you off to everyone — would make sure everyone knows you belong to me. I would even kiss ya in public, so everyone would know that this pretty girl is mine — would show ya off to everyone! Whatever ya ask for, wish for, it would be yours so ya know how much I care about ya.”

“What if—“ you thought for a moment before speaking your thoughts out loud. “If I would ask for the world, or for the stars? You can’t give them to me.” You chuckled softly, your heart beat faster when you heard his words. But at the same time you knew that he couldn’t give you everything. As much as a person loves someone, no one can give one the world, or the stars right?

“Trust me, babydoll, if you asked me for the world, I would get it for you. You want the stars? Oh, babydoll, you would get even those. A man has to carry his princess in his hands or else he isn’t worth her attention and love,” James said, he let his hand travel from your cheek to your chin. He tilted your head up with his hand underneath your chin, getting all of your attention. “How about that… ya put your stuff into ya bag. And then I invite ya to get ice cream with me.”

James pulled your stuff closer and waited patiently for you to put it into your bag. He leaned back in his seat, his ocean blue eyes roaming over your body, mostly over your face. You put your things into your bag, his offer is too good to say no. With one smooth movement you closed the zipper of your bag.

You got off, and swung the bag to carry it over your shoulder but James grasped it with one hand and took it out of your hand. With a smirk he got up as well and walked towards the door of the classroom, waiting for you to follow him.

“Whatcha looking like that? Ya comin’ or want to stay there all day?” He grinned at you. With his free hand, he tucked a strand of his long, brown hair behind his ear. “Told ya, a man has to carry his girl in his hands, now get ya pretty ass over here or I’m gonna eat all the ice cream by myself.”

Your mouth dropped open at his words, clearly to his amusement. You walked toward him, closing your mouth slowly before you reached for your bag but James turned to the side and trapped it between him and the door. He smirked at you, holding his hand into the direction he wanted you to walk. James' slightly raised eyebrow gave you no room to argue with him.

“You don’t know if my ass is pretty, maybe you don’t like it,” you said with a shrug. James waited a moment before he followed you, his eyes roaming down your back to your swinging hips and your ass. He had to hold back a moan as a response to your beauty and the way your hips swayed from one side to the other.

He then walked through the hallway, following you until he walked next to you. “Ya have the most beautiful ass I’ve ever seen. But I couldn't have imagined it otherwise, ya’re the prettiest girl.”

It wasn’t like he had checked out a lot of girls, almost none since he had a crush on someone. James couldn’t look at another girl the same anymore after he fell in love, it felt like he had cheated and he didn’t like the feeling, even though the girl didn’t even know he was in love with her.

“Do you have a girlfriend, James? I mean, you're a football captain, handsome, nice. You should go to her instead of getting ice cream with your rival's ex-girlfriend,” you asked, curious about the captain's answer. You didn’t know much about him, he wasn’t a playboy — that was for sure. You had only seen him fielding once with a girl, maybe it was just talking to her.

“No girlfriend. Have a crush on someone but she doesn’t know about it,” he said with a shrug and opened the front door to let you walk outside first. You thanked him, feeling butterflies in your stomach about such a small but meaningful gesture. “Ya can call me Bucky. Most of my friends call me Bucky.”

“Okay, then, Bucky, who don’t you tell her?” A groan left his plump lips and you giggled softly. That was the topic every guy tried to avoid when he talked to girls. But since it was just you and him, he would maybe tell you more about her. “You look good but don’t talk to girls, that’s definitely a good thing when it comes to girls.”

Bucky nodded. He knew what girls liked and what they didn’t like — mostly because of his friends in the team who had girlfriends. He was not just once in the middle of an argument where he had to assure the girl that the team went out without other girls.

“I know, but ya know. Don’t think she even noticed me.” Bucky said, leading you to his car. His big hand had found its way to the small of your back after you had left the building with him. His hand was warm and comforting.

“How can someone not notice you? You’re the captain of the football team.” You were almost shocked about his statement. Everyone who wasn’t completely new in school knew about the captains of the teams — mostly even knew about the other members of the team. They were all pretty handsome and the typical guy girls read in books when they tried to make their perfect boyfriend in their minds.

“Because not everyone likes football? Some people ignore us too,” Bucky said. He opened his car, letting you sit before he shut the door and walked around the car, getting into it as well. He had a dark blue Jeep, it was clean and you were surprised that it was really that clean.

Bucky was a college boy, a football college boy. So you thought he would have a messy car, but instead it was even cleaner than yours would probably be.

“You really love that car?” You earned a nod, followed by a chuckle. Bucky's cheeks heated up and he wanted to hit his head against the steering wheel, he made a fool out of himself with you being so close to him.

“Yeah, don’t like it messy. Ya, don’t look at me like that, I know whatcha wanted to say!” Bucky laughed, starting the car to drive the two of you to his favorite ice shop. “You will love the ice there, they have more flavors than you can imagine.”

The two of you stayed silent for a moment, both stuck in your minds and thoughts. Your eyes were focused on Bucky while he was focused on the street. Even though he didn’t turn his head, he watched you out of the corner of his eye, smirking to himself when he noticed that you stared at him once again.

After a few minutes you cleared your throat, getting him to turn his face for a moment toward you. Bucky offered you a soft smile before his eyes darted back to the street, but he was still letting you know that he listens to you with a hum.

“Why are you doing this for me? I mean, you don’t know me and I’m just the pathetic ex-girlfriend of your rival,” you asked, smacking yourself mentally for even asking that. But you didn’t want him to do that for you because he felt pity.

“I will tell ya at the end of the summer break,” he said, his eyes finding yours once again. He could see the way you were looking at him, that there was more behind the question than just curiosity. “You’re not a burden and I don’t do it because I feel pity for you, so get those thoughts out of your pretty mind immediately, babydoll.”

You chuckled, eyes still remaining on Bucky while he drove the two of you to the ice cream shop he loved so much. Little did you know, it was also your favorite one, only when you arrived did your eyes widen and you stared at Bucky with an excited glisten in your eyes. He grinned at you, getting out of the car to almost run around so he could open the door for you, while you stared at the shop with a huge grin on your face.

“My lady,” Bucky smirked and offered you his hand to take. He helped you get out of the car, his lips curled even further up when he noticed that you couldn’t take your eyes off the ice cream shop. “Like that?”

“I—” you trailed off, letting your eyes wander to meet Bucky's ocean blue ones. You smirked at him, raising an eyebrow before clearing your throat to hide the excitement. Even though you were pretty sure Bucky knew how excited you were already. “I don't just like it… I LOVE IT. That's my favorite ice cream shop!”

You had always wanted to go here with John, but he would just shake his head and tell you that the one closer to your apartment was just as good or that this one was too expensive for just ice cream. He wasn't wrong, it wasn’t as cheap as other smaller ones. But the others didn’t have that amount of different ice creams and they didn’t taste as good as they did in your favorite ice cream shop.

Bucky nodded, taking your hand into his and interlacing your fingers. His grip was firm but so comforting that you didn’t even think about removing your hand from his. The two of you walked then slowly to the entrance of the little building. It wasn’t as full as you thought it would be, even a few tables were free and you already looked around to find the best place before you had even decided which ice cream you wanted.

“You already know what you want?” Bucky asked and got your attention back. He had already pulled you toward the counter, greeting the woman behind it. The brown haired man didn’t offer her the smile he showed you, she only got a small grin which didn't even reach his sparkling eyes. The moment his eyes landed on you, his eyes were even softer and his smile bigger, lighting up the blue in his eyes. “You can have as many as you want.”

“I know I'm gonna pay for my ice cream myself.” You mumbled and looked at all the different ones to decide which ones you wanted. Bucky grunted, he would definitely pay for the ice cream, he wouldn't have asked you if he let you pay for it yourself. He nodded slowly, glaring at the woman behind the counter, letting her know that he would pay. You looked up at her, smiling softly. “I—”

You stuttered when you tried to decide if you really wanted those flavors or different but then you let her finally know which you wanted. Your eyes wandered to Bucky, who had a mischievous grin on his face and you rolled your eyes, letting your head fall against his shoulder and looked up at him.

“You won't let me pay for my ice cream, right?” He shook his head, looking down at you with the most intense but softest expression you had ever seen on someone's face. You were not sure what there was between you and him but it gave you the comfort you were always looking for — you didnt really know him but it felt like you had known him forever already.

“I asked you out, so I'm gonna pay. No discussion, just get your ice cream and get us a table,” Bucky said and leaned his head against yours for a moment until the woman behind the counter gave you your ice cream and you did as you were told after mumbling a soft ‘thank you’ into Bucky's shoulder.

— —

The first few days of summer break you spent in your apartment, wrapped into a blanket and watching a lot of movies while eating even more ice cream. But instead of crying your eyes out, you had company from your — now — best friend. After your ice cream date with Bucky the two of you walked through the park until the sun went down and even then you two had so much more to talk about — so you offered to meet him the next day. And that's exactly what the two of you did, since then you met every day.

Bucky always brought you small presents and gave you a lot of compliments. You could stand in front of him in a dress or in your pajamas with messy hair — he always told you how beautiful and stunning you were. You first didn't believe him, thinking it was just a joke but whenever you looked into his ocean blue eyes, there was nothing but the truth and love visible.

Today he asked you to go out with him again. He had a surprise and who were you to say no to such a sweet and gentle man? Bucky didn’t just help you to forget about John, but he also showed you what love and affection really meant. He wasn’t afraid to show you off to the world, even though you were not his girl, yet.

“Babydoll, are ya ready?” he asked, peeking through the door of your bedroom with a smirk. Bucky knew that you were at least dressed, otherwise he wouldn't look without permission. When his eyes met yours you blushed softly but shook your head.

Bucky's eyes widened, he then narrowed them and took a step into your bedroom. You looked so perfect in your outfit — just like always, so why weren’t you ready? He noticed the slight struggle in your eyes when he let his roam over your body. Without a word he understood what was stopping you from being ready for your date with him.

Bucky walked closer, his arms reaching out and pulling you toward him. He snook his arms around your waist, pressing his broad chest against your back before he turned the two of you around so you were looking at the two of you in the mirror. “You're beautiful, look at ya. Ya’re the most beautiful and I'm honored that you allow me to take ya out. Don't ya think you look pretty?”

You swallowed thickly. Bucky looked stunning, always so perfectly fine and every girl was staring at him. He could have anyone and the feelings you developed slowly for him didn’t

help your running thoughts — they only made it worse. Especially because John had never asked you out like that, he never wanted to show you off to anyone. But Bucky acted like you were the only girl in the world — little did you know, in his world you were the only one.

“Y-You're so pretty…” You mumbled, causing Bucky to chuckle into your neck. He had his head placed on your shoulder, staring at you in his arms through the mirror with a smile. He wouldn’t leave the room, not until he’s sure it was what you wanted too — otherwise he would just carry you into the living room and cuddle with you all night. “You're so perfect, stunning. Every girl is always staring at you, and you could have them all… And I am just me.”

“Ya don't understand, do ya? I don't care who is looking at me, they can look all they want,” Bucky said into your neck, trying to hold himself back so he wouldn’t confess everything. “Do ya remember the day where we went the first time to the ice cream shop? Ya said it ya’self, that I'm not a playboy. Let them look, they aren't out with me, are they? Plus the thing I’ve planned for the two of us is just ya and me.”

He wanted to say so much more, but he just couldn’t. At least not right now, it wasn’t that he didn’t mean it or is scared, but he wanted to prove it all to you, before he made the next step. Bucky wanted you to see that he meant everything he said and then — then he would do the next step with you.

You nodded softly, letting Bucky lead you out of the bedroom. His arms were still around your waist, his chest pressed against your back while the two of you walked through the floor toward your living room to pick up your phone and his bag.

“Do you trust me, babydoll?” With a soft smirk you turned your head to face Bucky, nodding slightly once again. “Then trust me that you're stunning and you are you but that's the point, that's what makes you special. You make yourself special.”

Bucky’s expression was soft but serious. You didn’t have words, knowing that he meant every single word he said without doubt.

“T-thank you,” you mumbled, sending a shiver through Bucky’s body. He adored the way you reacted whenever he made a compliment, so shy and just cute.

He led you to his car, still being such a gentleman and when you first thought it was just to impress you, you were now pretty sure that Bucky was always like that around someone he likes. He didn’t promise you too much when he said that a man had to carry his girl in his hands — you may not have been his girl but he did it anyway.

As much as you tried to find out where the two of you were going, he didn't tell you. Bucky was good at changing topics when it came to a surprise and you didn't get the tiniest of information out of him.

Bucky kept his soft smile the whole time while he drove the car through the streets of the town, you were pretty sure you sometimes drove in circles so he could confuse you because everything looked alike. When he stopped the car in a quiet, almost empty parking space.

“So, ya can either close ya eyes and promise me to keep them close, or I’m gonna use that pretty scarf to cover ya eyes until we’re there.” He held a soft, fluffy scarf in front of him and you trusted him enough that he wouldn’t let you run against something. You knew you would try to sneak, so you had to decide that Bucky should use the scarf to cover your eyes.

“I- maybe… I won’t sneak?” You giggled, it didn't sound serious enough for Bucky so he just wrapped the soft fabric around your head and tied it together. You felt his warm breath against your cheek, your breath hitched and you dug your fingers into your thighs, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach.

“So, how many fingers do you see?” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to hold his hands in front of your face. Instead of fingers he made a heart with his hands, smirking at you.

Your chuckle brought him back to reality, his eyes shot from your lips back to your covered eyes and he waited for an answer. “Mhm…. Three?” You giggled, not seeing anything because of the scarf in front of your eyes.

“Guess again,” he smirked, letting his hand fall down before he got out of the car. Bucky walked around, opening the door for you to help you out as well. He took care that you didn’t hit your head somewhere. “We are walking a bit but it’s not far, and I promise I won’t let you run into something.”

With that he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you tight against his chest to make sure he had control where to go and that you wouldn’t fall or hurt yourself somewhere.

You had never trusted someone before that much that you would have let them cover your eyes and lead you somewhere. But with Bucky it felt different, you knew that — you felt it — that he would never do anything where you could be in danger or hurt yourself. You trusted him with everything, and you used every opportunity to show him just that.

Bucky led you a bit, holding you firmly pressed against him. His fingers played with the fabric of your dress, tickling you softly. “Don’t squirm, babydoll.”

“Then don’t tickle me,” you giggled, trying to get away from his tickles. Bucky laughed, pulling you even closer but stopped tickling you.

“Can’t keep my hands to myself when it causes such sweet noises from you,” he mumbled into your neck. The two of you walked a bit further and when you inhaled deeply you smelt some flowers but also water. You didn’t know where you were, but it had to be pretty because Bucky told you that he had never brought people there with him before.

When Bucky stopped he took a step backwards, one of his hands remaining on you, while he untied the scarf around your head. The soft fabric fell down your face and you caught one side of it with your hands, the other was stuck in Bucky’s big hand.

You needed a moment to get used to the sun but when you opened your eyes and looked around your mouth drops open. Bucky had brought a blanket and food there. In front of you was also a small lake surrounded by trees and some floors in front of it. It was the most beautiful place you had ever seen.

“B-Bucky…” you said quietly, turning your head to face Bucky. He grinned at you, his eyes shining beautiful in the light of the sun combined with the way he smiled at you. He was proud of himself for making you happy and impressed with such a small gesture. “This is… it’s amazing. I love it, it’s so beautiful.”

He let go of you to take a step away, taking out his phone. He opeed the camera and turned around, pulling you in front of him, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist as he snapped a photo of the two of you. Only when he showed you the photo did you notice why he took a step to the side — it now showed everything, the trees, the flowers, the lake, the blanket with the food and the two of you with a huge smile across your faces.

“Ya know, it’s my new background now,” Bucky explained as he made it his new background. Now you were smiling at him every time he turned his phone on. And everyone knew you were his.

You smiled, already decided that you were going to use that or a picture you would take of him or him and you as background as well. It was such a sweet idea and you would love to look at him whenever you looked at your phone.

“Now sit down. I made the cake myself!” Bucky said with a proud smirk on his face as he pointed at the cake. It was your favorite one, you told him about it and you already noticed that it just looked like the description you gave him.

“You’re the best.” With a giggle you sat down, Bucky did the same, taking a seat next to you and offering you some food and drinks.

The cake was perfect, just like you described it and you wouldn’t have know better, you would have guessed he bought it from a baker. You suggested that Bucky could become a baker, he would be rich in no time. But he just chuckled and shook his head.

His eyes roamed over your face before he looked into your eyes once again. He was the first person you didn’t mind staring into one another’s eyes for hours. “I’m only baking for my best girl.”

Your cheeks heated up and you had to look away. You were still not used to all his compliments and sweet words. And Bucky used every opportunity to make you blush, loving the way you smiled shyly at him before you had to look away for a moment. But then, you couldn’t even look away for long, and he adored the effect he had on you, he could spend all day just watching you giggle and blushing. Bucky wouldn’t mind listening to you all day either, as long as it was you who was around.

The two of you sat there, talking about everything and nothing. You had never laughed that much with someone like you did with Bucky. He knew all your weaknesses and strengths, the two of you hadn’t even talked for over two weeks but he was your best friend already. The only one you knew you could be completely honest and open around, he could read you like a book anyway.

When the sun went down, you were sitting between Bucky's legs, your back pressed against his chest. He drew small circles on your stomach while you watched the sunset. It was the most beautiful yellow followed by red until it was only the clouds that were still painted in a slight pink before it became dark around you.

You shivered lightly in Bucky arms, pressing yourself further against him. With a smirk he removed his hands from you, grasping his bag. “I have a present for ya,” he told you before he placed his bag in front of you. “Open it.”

Your slightly shaking hands opened the zipper of his backpack and your eyes narrowed when you saw just some fabric inside until you noticed what it was. Your eyes widened when you tilted your head slightly and took it out of the bag. In your hands you held a hoodie, and it wasn’t just one. It was Bucky’s football hoodie, where his number and his name were big on the back. You pulled it closer, burying your face in his hoodie and inhaling his scent. Bucky chuckled, he looked at you like a puppy in love — and he was exactly that. “Y-You give me your hoodie?”

Bucky leaned his head on your shoulder, nodding. “If ya want to. Ya can also have another one or just for yet so ya won't freeze. But actually I thought I would love the sight of my name on ya back.”

Sometime at the start of the summer break, the two of you made that unwritten plan to spend all the time together. You never asked him if you could spend some more time, neither did he. He just took you out, making sure you wanted to but slowly he had the feeling you could have moved into his apartment with him. He knew he hugged you all the time, made sure you’re happy and the urge to tell you about his true feelings got bigger with every day.

But as much as he wanted to tell you — he didn’t want to do it just yet. He wanted to give you the whole summer break to see that he didn’t have the intention to get into bed with you. Bucky wanted you to see that you were worth so much more than what John was willing to give you. Bucky wanted to show you what real love meant, he wanted you to crave him just as much as he craved you.

This night Bucky spent at your apartment, he made pudding for the two of you. The two of you were wrapped in a blanket together and he held you as close as possible. You had the best sleep in years, knowing that Bucky would be still there in the morning when you woke up. And you were right, he had you pulled onto him, your head resting on his chest and you listened to his steady heartbeat. His heartbeat and his scent had such a calming effect on you, and you used every opportunity to be as close to him as possible. His arms, his embrace felt like home.

His morning voice was the hottest you could imagine, it was slightly rougher than his usual and it sent shivers down your spine every time. Bucky almost moved into your apartment with time, he brought most of his stuff like clothes so he could spend all day and all night with you. And even though he allowed you to take his clothes if you wanted, he didn't realise he would have to wash them so often because you stopped wearing yours. So you both wore Bucky clothes — you offered him to wear yours and he once tried a dress of yours.

You took a picture of him, making it your new background. Or it was more a picture of the thick, muscular football captain in a red dress of yours, while you wore the hoodie with his name and number on his back. The two of you stood in front of the table, your chest pressed against Buckys, while he held the phone and took the picture.

As much as you loved to go out with Bucky, you also loved the times when it was just the two of you. Bucky was a perfect cook and baker. So he either cooked for the two of you or you did it together, same went for baking.

The two of you ended up as snowmen one time, it started with you accidentally blowing the flour at Bucky. He then took way too much flour and let it fall down over your head with a huge grin across his face. Little did he know that you would grab the whole bowl and throw it at him. His reaction was to run away and into the wall by accident so he was trapped between the wall and the fridge.

It was a lot to clean, especially because Bucky hugged you and was smearing all the flour he had on his clothes on yours. You were sure you could have baked a whole cake with the amount of flour the two of you used for our little snowman action.

But the most special moment for you was two weeks before school started again. Your best friend has asked you out so often, you made trips together and spent every minute together. But when he asked you to come to Steve's birthday your mouth dropped open and you didn’t know how to respond. Of course, you would have loved to but John never wanted to have you around his friends — around his team. And Steve was one of Bucky's football team members, so there would be a lot of other people too. With a lot of assurance from Bucky you agreed and there you were now.

Bucky stood with his big hand on the small of your back next to you, looking down. The two of you were in front of Steve's house and you knew that you could still say no and Bucky would have immediately drove you back home. “I-I… Are you sure you want to be seen with me, Bucky?”

His eyes widened and he narrowed them. His hand wandered up to your shoulders to turn you toward him. His other hand settled itself on your chin and made you look directly into his intense blue eyes. “I'm more than sure that I want everyone to see us together. Babydoll, I’m not ashamed of ya, but if ya don't feel comfortable we can go home and watch movies.”

Home. You could go home. Yours, Buckys. It was more than just your apartment now, it was everything because even Bucky called it home.

“N-No, I think I can do that,” you mumbled nodding with a soft smile. You inhaled deeply, feeling Bucky's big hand take yours and interlacing your fingers with his. He then leaned down and kissed your cheek softly. You felt a shiver run down your spine, you were so in love with him but too shy to tell him — it would maybe ruin your friendship so you just enjoyed him being so close to you.

“If ya want to go home, ya gonna tell me,” Bucky said, his voice soft but leaving no room for discussion. So you nodded once again. Bucky smirked at you, knocking at the door which swung open almost immediately. The man grinning at the two of you was just as big as Bucky, his hair was way shorter and blond. His eyes were as blue as Buckys and you looked him up and down for a moment.

“Thought you won’t like to come in,” Steve said with a chuckle, letting both of you walk into his house. His eyes roamed over his friend, then over you until he noticed your interlaced fingers. Bucky squeezed your hand even more, pulling slightly you closer to him with a raised eyebrow at Steve.

They both have a moment of silent communication. Steve knew what was going on, he knew who you were. Not because you were John's ex-girlfriend. He knew you because of Bucky, who just couldn’t stop looking at you. The two men had a lot of talks, where Bucky just needed to tell him about you, that he had to have you and that he was so fucking in love with you.

“Happy Birthday,” you said after a moment, getting both men's attention. Steve smiled at you nodding.

“Thank you. Now get inside, the others can't wait to get to know ya girl, Buck,” Steve said and walked in front of the two of you. He knew that Bucky was going to mention that you were not his girl — at least not yet — but you were his best friend. To Steve's surprise the statement never came, and Bucky just grinned down at you, his eyes shining when he led you through the hallway to the living room where the others were.

“Ya don’t mind him calling ya my girl, do ya?” Bucky asked, knowing that you didnt mind it. None of the two of you had ever said those three words yet, but he knew you felt the same for him. Bucky had seen you shivering and giggling enough whenever someone mentioned that you and Bucky were a couple. But he also noticed the soft, sad flash across your face when someone did, knowing that you were scared to fully give in to your feelings without having any voices in your mind that told you you were not worth it.

You just didn’t understand that you were everything for Bucky. You always were, you always would be. But you were sometimes stuck in your mind, thinking about all the girls who looked better than you — all the ones he could have. And then you didn’t notice that he didn’t m care about a single one of them, for Bucky it was just you. You were his one and you Would always be his one — he would spend his lifetime to make sure you understood that there could be everyone but he only wanted you.

“I don't mind that,” you giggled, following Steve further into the living room. ‘I actually love it when people notice that I belong to you’.

Every pair of eyes was on you and Bucky when you walked into the room. Some of them were curious, some of them had an expression on their faces like ‘knew it, pal’. Through the whole evening and night Bucky introduced you to everyone with a proud smile. His hands were always somewhere on you, either around your waist or holding your hand.

His teammates were really nice, they were interested in you. And you had a lot of fun with them all, no one was mean and even the girls — mostly girlfriends of the other boys — were nice. They never looked at you with judgeful expression but they talked and laughed with you. No jealousy, no hate — just fun and a bunch of new friends.

You never would have thought it would feel amazing to be shown off by a man who owned your heart. But with Bucky it felt just perfect.

After the party you spent a few more nights with Bucky and the others, they became your friends and everyone knew that the two of you really needed to confess your love for one another. Most of the time Bucky was either hugging you from behind or you were sitting on his lap. There was no just you or just Bucky — it was always you and Bucky.

The weekend before college started again Bucky had to go to his apartment again. He called you every night, sleeping with you on the phone or he just watched you half of the night because he still couldn't keep his eyes off of you. Heeas addicted to you, you were like his air — he needed you to live.

So while he had some talks with the team and the coach and also organized all of his school stuff, you did the same. Most of the time you wrote him messages and waited for his response. Until the sunday before school, where you felt like your heart was ripped out of your chest.

John: Hey, I'm sorry I broke up with you. It was a shit decision and I couldn’t stop thinking about you all summer break. I love you.

John: I know you love me too. You know there is no one who loves you, they all just play with you. You're pretty but they only want to fuck you, come back to me and let me make it better this time.

Sobs and tears wrecked your body, you couldn’t believe him. He hadn’t tried to talk to you the whole summer break and suddenly he wanted you back. And maybe he was right, no one else showed any interest in you, only John. But now you had Bucky, who spent all summer break with you, he showed you what it meant to be loved even though he was ‘just’ your best friend. Bucky could have asked to have sex with you the whole time but he never did, he just wanted to cuddle, to see you happy, so maybe John was wrong and there was someone who loved you without just wanting to have sex.

Bucky wrote you a few — a lot of messages — and tried to call you but you didn’t answer him. Maybe he wanted to tell you that he had enough of you, that he was going to be happier with someone else. You didn’t want him to hear your broken voice and you didn’t want him to see your tears because of John's messages.

You didn’t love him anymore, but the voices in your mind — the ones John could control so perfectly — screamed at you, that he was right. So you just wrapped yourself into a blanket and watched all the movies Bucky loved, making your heart ache even more, especially when his scent came into your nose whenever you moved because of the hoodie you were wearing – his hoodie.

Bucky told you that he would be busy all day with the coach and the team but it didn't stop him from sending one after another message, calling you every hour until he started to speak messages on your voicemail.

Bucky: Hi, babydoll. How are you? Just checking after you before the next meeting starts, would prefer to be cuddled up with you.

Bucky: Are you okay? Do you need anything?

Bucky: I asked the coach to make it short so I can come over but he has a lot more shit for us to do, I'm sorry.

Bucky: Fuck, are you alright?

Bucky: Please, answer me. I come over!

You read the messages but never opened the chat. Tears streamed down your cheeks while you stared at your background and the incoming messages. 10 missed calls: Bucky. You just couldn’t bring yourself to answer him, to tell him what was going on and you knew you couldn't find an excuse to tell Bucky.

Around half an hour later Bucky knocked at your door, calling out your name. He called out your name. Bucky always used your pet name, the one he gave you but right now he called you by your name. His voice was broken, Bucky sounded worried but you didn’t want to move, your body felt way too heavy.

After a moment you heard the familiar sound of the key in your door. You gave Bucky your keys a while ago so he could come home whenever he wanted. He stormed into your apartment, shrugging off his shoes and jacket before he literally ran to you into the living room. His heart broke at the sight of you laying there, crying and wrapped into his hoodie and a blanket.

“Babydoll!” He said, crouching down next to you. Bucky eyes roamed over your body, trying to find something that could have hurt you but when he didn’t notice anything he narrowed his eyes. He brought one of his big hands to your cheeks, wiping away the tears and a few strands out of your face. “Look at me please, what's going on?”

You hadn’t even noticed that you closed your eyes until he asked you to look at him. You inhaled deeply, your body shaking as you slowly opened your eyes. His blue eyes pierced into yours immediately, he looked worried. You had never seen him like that, almost broken. More tears fell down your cheeks as you looked at him, noticing the love and care that's mirroring in the eyes you fell in love with.

You shook your head slightly, you didn’t want him to hear your broken voice. Bucky got up, wrapping his arms around you to lift you and sit down with you on his lap. Your head fell down against his shoulder and you inhaled his scent, feeling the warmth of him against you. Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you as close as possible.

“You came…” you mumbled into his shoulder.

“You didn't answer,” he replied, leaning his head against yours. You felt a bit of wetness against the side of your forehead, noticing that Bucky was finally relaxing since he had you safe in his arms. You never thought he would cry because he was worried about you, but he did — maybe even relieved that you're fine.

“But the meetings. He could throw you out of the team,” you said, leaning back slightly. You looked into Bucky's face, seeing the soft smile on his face but also his red eyes. Slight trails of tears slid down his cheeks and you captured his face to wipe them away. Bucky tilted his head slightly, leaning more into your soft touch.

“It doesn't matter. Nothing matters when it comes to you, babydoll.” You inhaled deeply, leaning your forehead against his. “But I told him that my girl needs me and that I will win every fucking game this season when you're at the side in my jersey. You will watch the games, right?”

You chuckled softly, nodding. Bucky just came because he was worried, he didn't mind that he could be thrown out of the team — he came because he was worried. And you planned to go to his games anyway, but now it made your heart beat even faster. His girl. His jersey.

“Are you going to tell me what happened? You won't just ignore my messages and calls,” Bucky asked, his voice soft. His breath was warm against your lips and you closed your eyes for a moment.

“John wrote me…” you mumbled, feeling Bucky tensing. Without him asking you knew what he wanted to ask ‘What did he say? Did he hurt you?’ “He said… he said that he wants me back and that no other guy wants me anyway. Unless it's about sex, so you know…”

Bucky nodded, leaning back on the couch. He brought some distance between the two of you to look into your eyes. “Do you want to go back to him? Whatever your answer is, I…” Bucky trailed off, closing his eyes to take a shaky breath before he looked at you again. Something in his eyes switched and you squirmed slightly. “Whatever your answer is, I want you to know that you're really loved by me. And I want you for more than just sex. If you want to go back to John I will accept that, but I just— I want you to know that I love you, forever already and it will never change.”

Bucky's confession caused your jaw to drop open. You thought about a lot that he could say but hearing him confess his feelings for you wasn't one of them. It was the most obvious but you felt so insecure, so scared that it wasn't what you thought.

“I— You love me but you would let me go back to John?” You asked, you had so many thoughts but that was the first that came past your lips. Bucky nodded, a sad smile flashing over his face.

“I don't say I would like it. But I don’t want to be the barrier that stops you from being happy. When you love someone, you're willing to break yourself to see them happy,” Bucky said, another tear rolling down his face. He was scared to say those words, he was scared you would go back to John but he knew he had to accept whatever you thought was best for you. “I'm willing to give everything for you because I love you.”

You smiled softly, the urge to punch him grew about his words. You were never more happy than the weeks of summer break with Bucky. So how could he even think about breaking himself for you? “You're an idiot.”

“At least I'm your idiot,” he smiled softly, shurgging. You stared into his eyes, nodding while he brought your hand to his chest, pressing it down just above his heart. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heart against your hand and you sighed softly.

“I can’t give ya the whole world… not the one ya think at least. But I can give ya my world — our world. I can make everything shine for ya like I took every star and gave it to ya,” he mumbled, reminding you of what he said before summer break. “But I can tell ya, I'm so in love with ya. My heart, it's beating for you — only for ya. You're my world, everything for me.

You leaned closer to him, until there is barely an inch between the two of you. You smiled softly, his words and gesture making your heart beat faster and a warmth spreading inside of you. “When you're willing to break yourself for me because you think I would ever be happier with someone who isn’t you, then I have bad news. There is no one who makes me happier than you. And I'm willing to fix everything that broke when the thought that someone could be better than you crossed your mind.”

“Can I kiss you now, or do you want to tell me you love me in another way than you just did?” He asked, chuckling softly. You didn’t say those three words but you didn’t have to. You told him that you loved him with so many more words but in the most perfect way he could have ever imagined.

You leaned even closer, allowing him to finally press his soft, plump lips against yours. You could taste both of your tears while he deepened the kiss softly. Bucky pulled you even closer, your hands wrapped around his neck and you played with his bun, making him growl playfully into the kiss.

After a moment you pulled away, panting softly. Both of you had heated cheeks and you leaned your forehead against Bucky's shoulder to hide your growing smirk. “I know that ya smiling,” Bucky said, his accent back and you melted into his embrace, giggling softly. Neither of you had to say anything about the kiss — it was indescribably perfect. “How long have you been in love with me already?” you asked, turning your head, still resting it against his shoulder. Bucky drew small circles on your back, a low chuckle escaped his lips.

“Forever…” he said. “I'm not sure, but it's like forever. And then before summer break, my heart broke when I saw you there so sad. I could have told you I love you, fucked you and could have helped you to get over John but I wanted to show you what love means before i confess my feelings. I could have told you at the beginning of summer break but I wanted you to know how it feels to be loved and cared for, how to treat the girl you love right. I wanted you to be just as much in love with me as I am with you.”

“Then congratulations, you made me fall in love harder than I thought I could ever fall in love. And I don't love John anymore, long ago I did but I don't, I just…” you trailed off, letting your fingers wander over Bucky's neck, admiring the goosebumps. “His words, they just hurt.”

Bucky grinned, having already a perfect idea for the next day. “Babydoll, i don't want you to feel that i just use you to make you jealous, because I really fucking love you, but…”

“I love you too, but what?” You giggled, wrapping your arms tighter around Bucky's neck. You kissed your way along his jaw, pulling him in another kiss before you listened to his plan.

— —

The next day — the first day of school you were walking next to Bucky from his car toward the building. He held your hand tightly and you felt a lot of people staring at you, maybe it was because of the man next to you, but maybe it could have also been because of…

“Y/N!” John shouted behind you and when you turned around his face was pale. He thought you were wearing the hoodie with Bucky's number and name on your back to make him jealous but when he saw the thick man next to you, holding your hand, his eyes narrowed. “Why are you wearing his name, why are you holding his hand?”

You didn't plan to have that conversation in front of everyone but you didn't mind it either. Bucky gave you a strength you never thought you had. With a soft smile and a look at Bucky you inhaled deeply before looking at John, smile fading away.

“I wear his name on my back because it belongs there. I hold his hand because he’s my boyfriend. And instead of being ashamed and hiding our relationship like you did, he likes to let everyone know that I belong to him. Bucky doesn't mind, that everyone sees us together.”

“I actually do love to let everyone know that this pretty girl is mine. She is mine and she will be forever. And ya, Walker, can fuck off. Ya didn't know how to treat her right but don't worry, I love her enough to make ya shit up to her,” Bucky growled before he grasped your chin.

It wasn’t part of the plan, you knew what he was going to do but you didn't care about the plan to just wear Bucky's hoodie to show John that you were with Bucky now. Bucky turned your head toward him, pressing his lips to yours and you sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him even closer.

The people around you clapped and screamed about this news. Who watched Bucky knew that he had the biggest crush on you. Even Bucky's whole football team jumped and shouted like they just won a game. You heard John muttering ‘but he is my rival, and so are you now’ but you couldn't have cared less.

Bucky smirked against your lips. “Mine, all mine, babydoll. You belong to me, just like I belong to you, I know.” He chuckled and pulled you into another kiss, letting you know that everything he said was true. He loved you with his whole heart, his soul.

You could feel his heart against your chest, feeling it beating the same rhythm yours was beating. His words from the day before where he confessed his love echoed through your mind. And suddenly everything made sense, everything lit up — no fear, no doubt. Bucky loved you — he really loved you. This was different, it was more than you ever had with John, more than you ever felt for the other one. Buckys and your heart beated in the same rhythm, they were connected — you were connected. He had used his whole summer break to prove that he loved you, to let you see how much worth you had, how much you meant to him. And finally, he was able to let his girl know, to show you his real feelings. This man — your man, your Bucky — he belonged to you, just like you belonged to him. You would take care of one another, love one another like nobody else ever did. He showed you the whole summer break that you were his one and now the two of you had the rest of your lives to be just happy with one another. Your journey, your life together had just started — in the most perfect way ever.

Taglist -> @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles @randomawesomeperson102 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf @loki-laufeyson68 @winterschildren8 @bxtchboy69 @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @im-alestan @felicitylemon @cjand10 @bookishtheaterlover7 @lives-in-midgard @casa-boiardi @futurequeen2018-blog @flstrawberry @nervouseden @jiyascepter @princesscore-angel @mrs-katelyn-barnes @sasha-writing @blackhawkfanatic @fanfictionreaderfan @multiversefanfics @angelbabyyy99 @looking1016 @aphrodite-xoxo @fanfictionreaderfan @iris-xoxo-juhu @holylulusworld @bucks-babe @whatever-lmaoo

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nathaslosthershit · 1 year ago

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Trips to See the In-Laws (LS2)

Summary: In order to save his teammate from an interviewer with not so innocent thoughts, Alex has to reveal that his thought-to-be-single friend, Logan, is actually in a long term relationship.

“Alex, Logan, so wonderful to have you both here with me today. Now that we are rapidly approaching the first race of the season, how are you both feeling? How was both your breaks?”

“Well firstly, thank you for having us. It has honestly been crazy. Break has gone by fast and with all the training we’ve been doing, I honestly feel ready to just jump in the car and start back up.” Logan replies.

It was no secret that Logan Sargeant had been training much more during the off season, everyone had seen how much he had changed. The way the interviewer was staring at him though, as if he was their next meal, was making him shift uncomfortably in the seat.

Alex, being as perceptive as ever, immediately saw the change in Logan’s demeanor. He was confused by it until he saw how the interviewer shifted closer to Logan, eyeing him up and down in a very flirtatious manner. He then chimed in to try and alleviate the tension. “Yeah, busy break but we have been putting in the work and I think we are both ready for this upcoming season.”

“You both look very different from the start of last year. Alex with your hair and Logan has gotten very, very fit.” Dammit, this interviewer really wasn’t going to let it go, Alex thought.

“Um yeah, we are both pretty different looks wise.” Alex weakly responded. What was he supposed to say, the interviewer didn’t exactly ask a question.

“I was in a pretty bad state at the end of last season, both mentally and physically. I worked really hard this off season to improve both of those things and gained 5 kilos. I feel much better now that I am at a more healthy weight and I think it just cements how much more learning and growing I needed last year.” God, how can the interviewer continue to try and eye fuck Logan while he gives such a sincere and vulnerable answer, Alex wonders. He knew he needed to help his teammate and friend in some way, but the idea that came to mind might have some consequences. But surely it was better than the alternative of letting Logan get harassed.

“Well Logan, you took some time to travel a bit since being here in New York” Alex teased.

“Ohhh, where did you go Logan?” the interviewer asked, intrigued at the blush on Logan’s face that had appeared as he picked up on where Alex was trying to go with this.

“Well actually, my girlfriend is originally from New york and still has family that live outside the city so they very kindly invited me to visit them and watch the Superbowl. She wasn’t too happy that I got to see her family while she is stuck in London but also was ecstatic that they clearly like me enough to invite me to visit even when she isn’t with me. It was sweet and such a kind gesture, definitely beats spending that night watching the game in a hotel room alone.”

“Hey, I would have watched with you. You wouldn't have been alone” Alex said, offended.

“Mate, you did not have any actual interest in watching the game.” Logan responded.

“But I still would have kept you company.”

Before the two could continue their fight, the interviewer bursted out a very aggressively asked “Girlfriend?”

The two were quiet then, not knowing what to say. The interviewer wasn’t looking at Logan like a piece of meat anymore, but now he had to deal with this sudden hard launch of his relationship.

“Uh yeah, I have been in a relationship for a while now. Met my girlfriend when I moved to London. We lived in the same apartment and had moved in around the same time. Insane luck, I guess.” Logan answered, still blushing.

“Leave it to Logan to find the one other American in his apartment complex and immediately start dating her.” Alex teased.

“Hey! It was a coincidence and she is from New York while I’m from Florida, they are practically two different countries.”

“Yeah whatever.” Alex rolled his eyes playfully.

The interviewer, now upset at practically getting rejected, stopped asking questions and just watched as the two Willaims drivers took over the interview, rambling, and teasing each other, till it was time to end it.

The interview had immediately gained popularity once it had been posted. Not many drivers hard launch the way Logan did and while Logan hadn't anticipated that this was how his relationship was found out, he did have to thank Alex for getting him out of that situation.

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon, williamsracing, and 73,355 others

logansargeant My favorite New Yorker 💙

#f1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #logan sargeant x reader #ls2 x reader #ls2 imagine #alex albon x reader

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pbaz7 · 1 month ago

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FLIGHT 2136: PART 7

paige x azzi

warning: mentions car accident

word count: 7.6k

A/N: I struggled with writing this chapter for some reason so I don’t know how I feel about it. Please let me know what you wanna see going forward because I honestly have zero clue. Leave live reacts and comments if you can please. I need em for motivation at this point 😭

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3rd Person POV - October

Paige’s room was quiet except for the soft hum of music still playing from Paige’s JBL, it was a playlist Azzi made a while ago to help Paige fall asleep on nights like this. Paige had struggled for a while, shifting and sighing in frustration until Azzi turned on the speaker for her and exhaustion won shortly after. Now, she was stretched out on her back, one arm thrown over her face, her breathing steady.

Azzi, on the other hand, was wide awake. She never slept well the night before the first game of the season—too much excitement, too much energy buzzing. Lying on her side facing the wall, she absentmindedly scrolled through Twitter, the screen's glow illuminating her face in the dark dorm room. She had the brightness turned down, not wanting to disturb Paige, though she knew from experience that nothing short of an alarm blaring would wake her up when she was tired like this.

Paige shifted beside her, exhaling a deep sigh in her sleep. Azzi turned over glanced at her, becoming momentarily distracted as she took in the way Paige's features softened when she was asleep. Even unconscious, Paige had a presence—an energy that made Azzi’s chest tighten when she looked at her.

Azzi put her phone down, suddenly uninterested in whatever was on her screen. Instead, she let herself admire Paige, her gaze tracing over the delicate slope of her nose, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Even in the dark, the moonlight spilling through the window illuminated just enough for Azzi to see her. Paige always looked so peaceful like this—completely unguarded, all the weight she carried during the day momentarily lifted.

Azzi loses track of how long she lets herself enjoy the moment, a small smile on her face as she propped her head up on her arm.

But eventually, after a few minutes, her expression shifted when she saw Paige’s face twitch. Paige’s brows knitted together, lips parting slightly as her breath hitched. Azzi frowned as she watched her features contort here and there, subtle but noticeable.

Azzi sat up slightly before she reached out, fingers grazing Paige’s arm. “Paige?” she murmured softly, just loud enough to see if she’d stir.

Azzi’s frown deepened when Paige’s breathing changed, still looking unsettled. She ran her fingers lightly along Paige’s wrist.

“Paige,” she tried again, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, a little softer, “Baby.”

This time, Paige’s eyes snapped open.

She didn’t jolt upright or gasp—there was no dramatic startle—but the shift was immediate. Her chest rose and fell unevenly as she stared up at the ceiling, blinking like she was trying to reorient herself. Azzi stayed still, watching her closely, giving her a moment to settle.

After a while, once Paige had calmed slightly, she gently touched her wrist. “Hey,” she murmured. “I’m right here.”

Azzi didn’t press for words. She just kept her touch gentle, her thumb brushing slow strokes across Paige’s wrist as she waited. Paige’s breaths were still uneven, her eyes trying to focus; she was trying to shake off whatever had pulled her from sleep.

Then, without any words, Paige turned into her.

Azzi barely had time to fully react before Paige was burying her face in her neck, her body pressing against Azzi’s completely. Not a second after Azzi felt the warm, damp trails of tears slipping down her neck.

Her chest tightened.

Without thinking about it, she wrapped her arms around Paige. One hand came up to the back of Paige’s head, fingers threading through her hair as she whispered, “I got you, baby. It’s okay. I got you.”

Azzi felt Paige’s breath hitch against her skin, the small tremble of her body as she tried to hold back her tears. But it seemed like the more she fought it, the more they fell against Azzi’s neck.

Azzi didn’t mind. Not one bit. She just tightened her hold as she cradled Paige against her. Her fingers continued their soothing path through Paige’s hair. “You’re okay,” she whispered, her lips brushing against Paige’s head. “I’m right here, baby. Just breathe.”

Paige clung to her a little tighter at the words, like she was clinging to Azzi to ground herself, and Azzi let her. She didn’t rush her, didn’t ask questions—she just held her.

Paige kept trying to will herself to stop, but the tears wouldn’t let up. She had pushed this down for so long, refusing to let herself break, and now it felt like it was all pouring out at once, like she’d never be able to stop.

Azzi just kept whispering soft reassurances against her hair. “I love you,” she murmured, pressing the words into Paige’s head like a promise. “You’re okay. Just breathe, baby. Take your time. You’re safe I promise.”

Her fingers never stopped moving, running through Paige’s hair, tracing slow circles against her back—anything to remind her that she wasn’t alone. To keep her in the present moment. Paige, despite how much she wanted to stop, just let herself fall apart in Azzi’s arms.

Eventually, her tears slowed, her breathing evening out as the weight of exhaustion settled over her. She pulled back slightly, just enough to put some space between them, her eyes still glassy as she mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

Azzi didn’t even acknowledge the apology—because there was nothing for Paige to be sorry for. Instead, she brought her hands to Paige’s face, thumbs brushing away the lingering tears. “What’s going on, beautiful?” she whispered.

Paige shook her head almost immediately, the words on the tip of her tongue—Nothing. I’m fine. She was about to say it, about to brush it off like she always did.

But Azzi wasn’t having it.

She tightened her hold, her fingers firm as she held Paige’s face, making her meet her gaze. “It’s not nothing, baby,” she whispered, searching Paige’s eyes. “Talk to me please.”

“Dream.”

Azzi nodded, her thumbs still tracing soft patterns against Paige’s cheeks. “I know,” she murmured, her voice steady, patient. “But you gotta give me more.”

Even after all these months, she knew Paige needed a nudge—needed the space to talk at her own pace but also a reminder that she could talk. That she didn’t have to hold it all in.

Paige swallowed, her throat working around the words she wasn’t sure she wanted to say. “I was thinking too much before bed,” she admitted.

Azzi just nodded again, letting her take her time.

Paige exhaled shakily. “I just—” She stopped, pressing her lips together, then shook her head. She didn’t have the right words yet, so she started with what she could say.

“It was the accident,” she murmured finally. “After the truck hit us, everything just felt so fake but so real at the same time.” Her brows knitted together as she tried to explain it. “The pain… it was real. But everything in the car, it just—it felt like it was moving in slow motion.”

Azzi stayed quiet, letting Paige keep going.

“I heard Drew crying, asking for help,” Paige continued, her voice tight, like she was back in that moment. “But I couldn’t say anything. I tried, but nothing came out. My head felt like it was about to explode… my side…” She sucked in a breath. “I had never felt anything like that before Az.”

Azzi listened intently, as she continued her pattern on Paige’s back, offering the steady presence Paige needed to get through this.

“I kept trying to reach over to calm Drew down,” Paige continued, her voice distant, like she was reliving every moment. “But I think maybe I was slipping in and out of consciousness. I don’t know… I was just so disoriented. I couldn’t think straight so I was getting frustrated.”

Azzi nodded, encouraging her silently.

“When I finally got my bearings and reached over, I wished I had stayed still.”

Paige let out a quiet chuckle. “I let out this yell that woke my dad up. My side—God, it felt like someone was holding a torch to it.” She swallowed, eyes unfocused. “And I saw the panic all over my dad’s face when he looked back at me. He tried to calm Drew down but at the same time he kept yelling at me to stop moving. But Drew—he just kept panicking, and I kept trying to grab him even though it hurt like hell, and my dad was caught between telling him to calm down and begging me to stop moving.”

Her voice cracked slightly, and Azzi instinctively tightened the hold she had on Paige, rubbing slow circles against her back.

“It felt like that went on forever,” Paige murmured. “Like we were trapped in this loop of panic, pain, and yelling. It didn’t even feel real… not until I was passing out.”

Paige huffed out a humorless laugh. “Ironically, when I woke up in the hospital, it felt like I got hit by a truck.” She shook her head. “And my dad—God, he looked like he had seen a ghost. He was just sitting there, staring at me like he wasn’t sure if I was real. Like he couldn’t believe I was actually opening my eyes.”

They settle into silence for a while. Azzi lets Paige take her time, and share which portions she wants to share. It was always a random moment like this when Paige would talk to Azzi about the accident. Sometimes they were just laying there in the middle of the day and Paige would start talking about it, other times it came when Paige was having a hard day and just ranted about life. Sometimes it was like this, when Paige had a dream. Each time, Azzi learns a little more about the accident. How it affected Paige, how it made her feel.

Because of this Azzi knows there’s not much she can say to ease Paige’s emotions when she’s talking about the accident. She knows Paige’s thoughts will get stuck there, so she eases her into an easier conversation.

Azzi tilted her head slightly. “Were you thinking about it before you went to bed?”

Paige let out a small breath. “Kinda.”

Azzi gave her a small smile, and Paige sighed, already knowing what Azzi was silently saying.

“I was thinking about the game tomorrow, and it kinda just spiraled from there,” she admitted. “Because I’m finally here, you know? I was just in my head, thinking about all these expectations I have for myself now that I’m where I’ve always wanted to be. And then…” Paige swallowed, her voice softer now. “Then I started thinking about how I could’ve been here a few years ago if the accident didn’t happen. How different things might’ve been. How different life might be.”

Azzi didn’t say anything, just rubbed her hand over Paige’s back, listening.

Paige smiles softly for the first time since she’s woken up. “I would’ve been able to meet you a long time ago.”

Azzi knew Paige well enough to recognize when she needed a distraction, something to pull her out of her thoughts. So, with a teasing smirk, she said, “I don’t know… I might not have liked you as much at first if you were a chatterbox.”

Paige scoffed. “Oh, please.”

Azzi grinned. “The whole mysterious vibe is what drew me in.”

Paige let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. “Yeah, right. You’d still like me even if I never shut up. You told me the other day you would date me if I was a worm.”

Azzi just smiled and rolled her eyes, because they both knew it was true.

Azzi ran her fingers through Paige’s hair, letting the silence settle between them for a moment. She could still feel the slight tension in Paige’s body, though she could tell the blonde was starting to relax.

Paige let out a quiet sigh. “M’sorry for crying all over you.” When she said it her voice was a little small, laced with something that almost sounded like embarrassment.

Azzi frowned, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Hey,” she said softly, cupping Paige’s face again. “You never have to apologize for showing emotions around me, baby. Ever.”

Paige blinked up at her, and Azzi ran her thumb along the curve of her cheek. “You’re human, Paige. And you’ve been through something that most people can’t even pretend to understand. So you’re allowed to feel however you need to, whenever you need to.”

Paige’s lips parted slightly, like she wanted to argue, but instead, she just let out a breath—one that sounded lighter than before. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, and Azzi took that as a win.

She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s lips. Paige melted into it, her fingers curling into the fabric of Azzi’s shirt.

When they pulled away, Paige rested her forehead against Azzi’s. “Thank you, beautiful,” she whispered.

Azzi smiled. “Always.”

Paige let out another small breath, then murmured, “I love you.”

Azzi brushed their noses together a few times. “I love you too, baby.”

After a second Paige groaned dramatically, rubbing her eyes. “I need to go back to sleep, or I’m gonna play like ass tomorrow.”

Azzi laughed, already knowing Paige would play perfectly fine even if she got no sleep. “I know.”

Paige’s jaw dropped. “Wowww. No reassurance? No ‘Oh no, baby, you’ll be amazing no matter what’?”

Azzi smirked, tilting her head. “I mean… you probably will be amazing, buttt… at the same time you’re the grumpiest person I’ve ever met when you don’t sleep.”

Paige scoffed. “I see you haven’t met yourself then.”

Azzi gasped in offense before flicking Paige in the forehead.

Paige blinked as if she couldn’t believe it, then narrowed her eyes. “Oh, you really thought that was a good idea?”

Azzi barely had time to respond before Paige moved, straddling her waist and launching a tickle attack. Azzi immediately shrieked, twisting under her, trying to fight back, but Paige had the upper hand.

“Paige—Paige! Stop—” Azzi wheezed between gasping laughter, squirming wildly as Paige’s fingers found all her weak spots.

“Ohhh, now you wanna beg?” Paige teased, relentless in her assault.

Azzi was breathless, barely able to speak through her laughter. “Baby please!” she managed to choke out, grabbing at Paige’s wrists in desperation.

Finally, Paige let up, grinning down at her as Azzi caught her breath.

Azzi huffed, her chest rising and falling. “You suck.”

Paige shrugged. “You started it.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling, her hands settling against Paige’s thighs. “Go to sleep, big head.”

Paige leaned down, kissing her quickly before flopping beside her again. She reached over, turning off the music that had been playing in the background before settling back down.

Azzi immediately frowned. “Why’d you turn it off?”

Paige pressing her lips to Azzi’s forehead said, “You won’t be able to sleep if it’s on.”

Azzi huffed, knowing Paige was right—but she also knew Paige needed it tonight. “Yeah, but you will.”

Paige shook her head, her fingers tracing patterns along Azzi’s back. “I’ll be fine, baby. Close your eyes.”

Azzi exhaled, knowing better than to argue when Paige was being stubborn. She shifted closer, resting her head against Paige’s chest as she slid a hand under her shirt. Her fingers moved instinctively, tracing over the scar along Paige’s side.

Paige sighed softly at the familiar sensation, her body relaxing under Azzi’s fingertips. They didn’t need words, they never really did—Azzi knew exactly what Paige needed, just like Paige knew what Azzi needed.

Azzi pressed a gentle kiss to Paige’s collarbone, as she whispered against her skin. “I love you.”

Paige’s hand tightened around Azzi’s waist, holding her just a little closer. “I love you too, baby.”

…

The energy inside Gampel Pavilion was electric. From the moment the ball tipped, the crowd was deafening, fully embracing Paige’s long-awaited debut. It was clear that the other team’s game plan revolved around shutting down Azzi from the jump, face-guarding her at every turn, doubling her around screens. That left Paige—dangerously open. The most open she’s ever been in her life.

And she cashed in on it. Every single time.

She weaved through their defense effortlessly, draining threes, sliding into the lane, and kicking the ball out for assists when they finally decided to collapse on her. By halftime, she already had the crowd eating out of the palm of her hand. Fangirls screaming out her name every chance they got. Azzi couldn’t have been prouder, watching Paige in a UConn jersey like she was born for this moment. Like nothing in life could’ve stopped her from being here.

Azzi didn’t think the arena could get any louder, then came the moment that sent Gampel into a frenzy. Paige blocked a shot and game down the court and drilled a deep three in transition, barely breaking her stride as the net snapped. And as she backpedaled down the court, she raised her hand to her ear, smirking as if she was telling the crowd, I can’t hear you. The volume somehow doubled, and the student section lost their minds.

Azzi shook her head, laughing from the bench. Paige on the court and Paige in everyday life were two completely different people. The way she carried herself on the court was insane to witness.

By the time the middle of the third quarter rolled around, Geno had seen enough. With the game well in hand, he started pulling the starters one by one, giving the bench their moment. When Paige’s number was called, she jogged to the sideline and immediately locked eyes with Azzi, who was waiting with an outstretched hand. Paige jogged down the bench hitting everyone’s hand before returning to her spot next to Azzi.

As soon as Paige dropped into the seat beside Azzi, she draped her towel around her, covering the lower half of her face. Azzi smirked, mirroring the action as she leaned in slightly, her voice just low enough for only Paige to hear.

“Hm,” Azzi mused. “So that was a glimpse of the superstar everyone’s been talking about.”

Paige scoffed, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “Shut up.”

Azzi tilted her head, pretending to study her. “No, really. I mean…” She paused nudging Paige’s knee with her own before adding. “Had me feeling some type of way.”

Paige bit back a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Azzi hummed, shifting closer, her knee pressing against Paige’s. “Ridiculous enough that you can’t stop smiling?”

Paige tried to school her expression, but the way Azzi was looking at her, with that smirk that Paige knew was there even though her mouth was covered. “Maybe I’m just flattered.”

Azzi grinned. “You should be.” She paused for a second before continuing, “But, uh… if you wanted to impress me, you should’ve probably gone for thirty.”

Paige shot her a look, tilting her head. “You know damn well I could’ve.”

Azzi smirked. “I know. That’s why I’m a little disappointed.”

Paige scoffed. “You’re lucky we’re on camera right now.”

Azzi chuckled, bumping her knee against Paige’s one more time before turning her attention back to the court. “Mhm. Just keep that same energy later, baby.”

As the final buzzer sounded and the team made their way toward the tunnel, the energy in Gampel was still buzzing. Fans were still yelling, cameras were still on, and Paige was ready to make a beeline for the locker room—until she felt a gentle tug on her wrist.

She turned, confused, only to see Azzi grinning at her. “Some people want your autograph,” Azzi said, nodding toward a large group of fans pressed against the barricade, waving posters and jerseys.

Paige glanced over, taking in the chaotic scene, and let out a small sigh. “Do I have to?” she mumbled, shifting on her feet.

Azzi laughed, squeezing Paige’s wrist before letting go, hoping things didn’t seem too obvious. “I mean… no. But you’re gonna have to get used to it again eventually.”

Paige exhaled through her nose, knowing Azzi was right but still feeling a little reluctant. Before she could overthink it, Azzi leaned in just enough for only her to hear. “I can’t blame them, you're really cute,” she murmured, smirking as Paige rolled her eyes.

With a quiet huff, Paige finally made her way over to the fans, signing posters and jerseys with a small, almost shy smile. It was different from before—before the injury, before everything changed—but as she glanced over her shoulder, catching Azzi looking at her with that familiar look of pride before going back to signing some things, she figured maybe getting used to it wouldn’t be so bad.

Paige’s awkwardness didn’t stop at the fan interactions. She and Azzi had been pulled aside for the post-game interview, and now they were seated in the media room microphones placed in front of them as questions rolled in.

Azzi handled the first couple of questions with ease, answering like she had done this a million times before. When asked about the team’s performance, she spoke confidently. “I think we came out with great energy tonight,” she said with a small smile. “We knew they were going to try and take away certain options, so we adjusted and trusted each other to make plays. Everyone stepped up, and I’m really proud of the way we executed and played together considering it’s our first game of the season.”

The next question was about Paige’s impact. “She was unreal,” Azzi said without hesitation, turning to glance at Paige for a moment. “I mean, we all knew what she was capable of when the transfer was announced, but seeing it actually happen tonight? Crazy. I think she had, like, what? Twenty-something points?” She looked at Paige with a grin, and Paige just shrugged, not sure of her exact stat line. Azzi let out a soft chuckle before looking back at the reporter. “Yeah, she was incredible. And honestly this is just the beginning so we’re all really excited to see what we can do this year.”

Then, the reporter turned their attention to Paige.

“So, Paige, how did it feel playing in your first official game at UConn?”

Paige nodded slightly, adjusting in her seat. “Uh, it was great,” she started, her voice a little quiet because she wasn’t speaking directly into the mic. “The energy in Gampel was insane, and I just—I don’t know, I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. It felt surreal, but it was amazing.”

As soon as she finished, she caught the soft chuckle beside her. Paige turned her head to find Azzi grinning at her. “What?” she mouthed, her brows furrowing.

Azzi reached out, gently pushing the mic closer to Paige. “Talk into the mic next time,” she teased.

Paige let out a small laugh, dropping her gaze to her lap as her cheeks warmed. She grinned to herself, biting her lip to hide her smile, but Azzi saw right through it.

The reporter, having noticed Paige’s previous quieter response, now asked, “Paige, you had an incredible performance out there tonight. How did it feel to make such an impact in your first official game for such a powerhouse?”

This time, Paige made sure to lean in, speaking directly into the mic with a smirk on her lips when she glanced at her girlfriend. Azzi, catching on to the playful defiance, simply rolled her eyes with an amused grin, nudging Paige’s knee under the table.

The contrast between them was stark—Azzi, poised and used to the media, effortlessly answering questions with confidence, while Paige, still getting back into the groove, showed flashes of her charm in between moments of awkwardness. It was something Azzi adored about her, and judging by the way Paige was starting to ease into it, she was getting more comfortable, too.

As soon as Paige and Azzi stepped into the locker room, Azzi was briskly moved to the side and chaos erupted. Before Paige could even react, streams of cold water hit her from multiple directions.

Paige groaned, throwing her hands up to shield herself, but her teammates weren’t letting up. They surrounded her, laughing and shouting as they dumped water from their bottles over her head, pushing her around playfully.

“Best player in the 2020 class!” Jana yelled, shaking her shoulders.

“Best player in the nation, period!” KK added, dousing her again as the team yelled in agreement.

Aubrey clapped her hands, grinning. “Paige Buckets is officially back!”

Paige let out a dramatic sigh, her clothes damp, her hair dripping—but the giant smile on her face gave her away. “Y’all are annoying,” she muttered, but she couldn’t stop laughing as she wiped the water from her eyes using a towel someone handed her.

Azzi stood off to the side, thankful that she was pulled out of the way. “You kinda deserve it.”

Paige shot her a look. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Azzi shrugged. “Nope, I fully support this.”

KK bounced up to Paige, gripping her shoulders and shaking her excitedly. “You did it, P Boogers!” she yelled.

Paige groaned, trying to keep her balance as KK practically rattled her. “Alright, alright, enough,” she huffed, though the smile on her face betrayed her.

With a sigh, she peeled off her soaked jersey, wringing out some of the excess water. The moment the jersey hit the ground, Ice let out a sharp dog whistle from across the room.

Paige’s head snapped in her direction, her glare sharp. “Really Isuneh?”

Ice just shrugged, smirking. “What? Just showing my appreciation.”

The whole locker room burst into laughter, and even Paige couldn’t help but shake her head, muttering, “I hate it here,” before grabbing another towel.

…

Later that night, the team found themselves at Ted’s, upholding their long-standing tradition of celebrating the first game of the season. The bar was packed with UConn students.

When they were getting ready to leave for Ted’s back in the dorms, Paige had joked, “You ever think maybe some of the alumni had a little alcohol problem? Every tradition somehow ends up at Ted’s.”

KK snorted. “Listen, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

Ice grinned. “Besides, after the game you had? You gotta let the people celebrate you.”

Paige just shook her head with a chuckle, following the team out the door.

Now, inside the familiar bar, the atmosphere was loud. The team was greeted with cheers and pats on the back from students and friends. Paige, still adjusting to the overwhelming attention, stuck close to Azzi at the beginning of the night, who effortlessly navigated through the crowd, exchanging greetings like she had done this a hundred times before.

Azzi glanced over at Paige, smiling. “Still think it’s just an alumni problem?”

Paige scoffed, taking in the scene around her. “Nah, I think it’s a UConn problem.”

After saying this Paige opted for water while the rest of the team indulged in a few drinks. Of course, some of the team had been on her case about it all, playfully pestering her to loosen up.

“Come on, P, one drink won’t kill you,” Ice teased, nudging her shoulder.

Morgan leaned in. “You’re at Ted’s. After your first UConn game. And you’re drinking water? That’s criminal even for you.”

Paige just shook her head with a laugh, taking a slow sip of her water to emphasize her point. “Y’all act like I’m not the reason we’re even celebrating.”

KK gasped, clutching her chest. “Wow. You’re so humble.”

Azzi, standing beside Paige with her drink, smirked. “She’s got a point, though.”

KK saying, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You’re still lame.”

Paige just laughed, completely unbothered, knowing they weren’t going to let it go anytime soon.

A bit later that night Paige was sitting at the table with Ice, KK, and Aubrey, watching as the three of them got increasingly animated over whatever ridiculous debate they had started. Unlike them, she still hadn’t touched a drink, so while their voices got louder and their gestures more exaggerated, she remained calm, leaning back in her chair.

“I’m just saying,” Ice said, tapping her fingers against the table for emphasis, “if aliens did exist, don’t you think they’d have already made contact? Like, they’d be here, living among us.”

“Exactly!” KK yelled, pointing at Ice. “Like, what if they’re disguised as people, and we just don’t know? Aubrey, tell me Paige wouldn’t be the perfect alien.”

Paige raised a brow, unimpressed by her addition to the conversation. “What?”

Aubrey nodded dramatically as she agreed with KK. “She’s way too good at basketball, like freakishly good. It’s real suspicious sometimes.”

“Oh my god,” Paige groaned. “Y’all needa stop drinking.”

KK ignored her. “Also, she rarely drinks. What if it’s because her alien metabolism won’t let her digest it?”

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold back her laugh. “Right, because choosing not to drink during the season automatically makes me a different species.”

“I’m just saying, if anyone on this team was an alien, it’d be you,” Ice added.

Paige sighed, grabbing her water. “I hate it here.”

The three of them erupted in laughter, and despite the absurdity of the conversation, Paige was completely at ease in their company.

A few minutes later Azzi was mid-conversation with Caroline and Jana, nodding along to whatever story Caroline was telling, but she kept finding her gaze drifting across the bar. It wasn’t intentional—at least, not at first. But Paige was there, sitting at the table, her expression relaxed, a smirk tugging at her lips as she sipped from her water. She wasn’t even doing anything, just existing, and yet Azzi felt warmth bloom in her chest like it always did.

It was getting ridiculous how easily Paige could distract her.

Azzi forced herself to refocus, pretending to be fully invested in Caroline’s words, but it didn’t last long. Her eyes naturally flickered back toward Paige—only this time, something was different.

Ice, KK, and Aubrey had drifted off to the bar and in their place Q had settled in front of Paige, her body language way too relaxed, her expression too intrigued. Azzi couldn’t make out what was being said, but she didn’t need to.

Paige, for her part, didn’t seem to share the sentiment. She was responding, sure, but she wasn’t leaning in, wasn’t giving Q any indication that she was invested in whatever conversation they were having. If anything, she looked confused by it rather than engaged.

Still, that didn’t stop the flicker of irritation from settling in Azzi’s chest.

She wasn’t jealous—not really, she had no reason to be. But she also wasn’t stupid.

On the other side of the bar Paige was a little surprised when Q settled in front of her. She had noticed Q glancing her way here and there throughout the night, but they hadn’t talked much, they never really did.

“So… you and Azzi, huh?” Q started.

Paige blinked, caught off guard by her introduction to the conversation. “Uh, yeah..?”

Q tilted her head, with a shrug. “I mean, I figured, but besides that one night at the Truth or Drink you never said much else about it. Didn’t really know if it was a drunk accident or something.”

Paige let out a small chuckle, shaking her head. “We’re not really the announcing type.”

Q hummed. “Makes sense. You’re both kinda lowkey.” She paused for a second, then added, “But like… how did that even happen?”

Paige frowned slightly, not out of annoyance but genuine confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Q shrugged, eyes flickering over Paige’s face. “It’s just interesting. Y'all are so… different.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “We’re alike enough.”

Q laughed, taking a sip of her drink. “How’d it even happen? Did you know each other before your visit or something?”

“Attraction.”

Q blinked, slightly caught off guard by the bluntness of the answer. “That’s it?”

Paige shrugged, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she thought about that first night in her hotel. “That’s all it takes sometimes.”

There was a slight pause before Q tilted her head slightly, watching Paige carefully. “Can I ask you something?”

Paige shrugged. “Go for it.”

Q hesitated for a second before nodding toward her torso. “Your scar… what’s the story with that?”

Paige’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Her fingers tapped against the table as she exhaled slowly through her nose. “I don’t talk about that.”

Q immediately held up her hands. “Got it. Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.” She quickly tried to pivot, offering an easy smile. “So… you and Azzi. How serious is it?”

Paige barely had time to part her lips before she felt a familiar warmth at her side. Azzi’s arm draped around her shoulders, her presence instantly grounding. Paige glanced up to find her girlfriend looking down at Q.

Paige smirked, wrapping her arm around Azzi’s waist and pulling her in slightly. “Hey, drunkie.”

Azzi rolled her eyes playfully at the joke but leaned into Paige’s touch anyway. “Whatcha talking about?”

Paige, completely innocent, gestured toward Q. “Oh, she was just asking about us, actually.”

Azzi, already aware of Q’s crush on Paige, raised both eyebrows, her expression shifting slightly. “She was, was she?” Her voice was light, but there was an edge to it, one that made Q shift slightly in her seat.

Paige glanced at Azzi, slightly confused by her sudden shift in demeanor, but Azzi wasn’t looking at her—she was focused entirely on Q.

“Why are you so curious?” Azzi asked. Her tone was still casual, but there was something underlying it, something pointed.

Q shrugged, her expression remaining neutral. “Just making conversation.”

Azzi hummed at that, though Paige could tell she wasn’t entirely convinced. There was a slight tension in her posture, a flicker of something in her eyes that Paige recognized all too well—Azzi wasn’t exactly thrilled.

Q held up her hands in mock surrender. “Didn’t mean anything by it.”

Azzi let out a short breath. “Uh-huh.” Her arm around Paige tightened slightly, pulling her in closer. Then, shifting her attention away from Q, she looked down at Paige, her tone softening. “Well, baby, were you gonna answer her question?”

Paige, still slightly confused by Azzi’s demeanor but deciding not to say anything about it right now, licked her lips before glancing up at her. “Well, I was gonna say we’re pretty serious.”

Azzi smirked at that—at the way Paige was looking at her, eyes warm, like she was the only person in the world. It was a look Azzi had grown used to, one she craved more than she’d ever admit to anyone.

Q looked between the two of them before giving a tight smile. “Got it. Message received.”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head slightly. “Did you, though?”

Q let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, I got it.” She lifted her drink to her lips before adding, “Loud and clear.”

Azzi nodded, satisfied. “I’m glad.”

Then, to really drive her point home, Azzi turned back to Paige. She slipped a hand around Paige’s waist, pulling her closer. Paige barely had time to react before Azzi was kissing her—deep and slow. Paige felt her breath hitch, her fingers instinctively clutching at the fabric of Azzi’s shirt as warmth spread through her chest.

When Azzi pulled back, Paige was left slightly dazed, her lips parted, eyes blinking up at her in surprise. Azzi grinned at the sight, brushing her thumb over Paige’s cheek before murmuring, “Well, I’ll let you get back to your chat baby. I love you.”

Paige frowned slightly, her grip around Azzi’s waist tightening before she could pull away. “You don’t have to go.”

Azzi chuckled, squeezing Paige’s shoulder. “I was talking before I came over here. I’ll be back,” she murmured. Then, with one last smile in Q’s direction, she walked off, leaving Paige sitting there, eyes following her like a lost puppy.

After that moment Azzi truly thought the situation was handled. But a little later that night, it seemed like Q still hadn't gotten the hint. Maybe it was the alcohol clouding her judgment, or maybe she just simply didn’t care, but she was still in Paige’s orbit. Always a little too close, always a little too happy to have Paige’s attention when they were talking.

Azzi’s jaw tensed as she watched Q lean in slightly, saying something that made Paige chuckle. It wasn’t that Azzi didn’t trust Paige—she knew exactly where Paige stood with her. But that didn’t mean she had to like watching someone else try to get too comfortable.

Azzi set her drink down and made her way toward them, weaving through the crowd with a calm, easy stride.

Sliding in beside Paige, Azzi didn’t acknowledge Q at all. Instead, she hooked a finger through the belt loop of Paige’s pants, pulling her in until there was no space between them.

Paige barely had time to react before Azzi dipped her head, lips brushing just below her ear. “You good, baby?” she whispered, voice low enough that only Paige could hear.

Paige hummed in response, tilting her head slightly as if silently asking why she was asking. But Azzi didn’t explain—not with words, at least. Instead, she turned her head slightly, finally giving Q a glance, her expression a little tighter than before.

“Qadence, I really don’t want this to be a problem.”

Q gave her a confused look in response. “We don’t have one.”

Azzi nodded slowly, but her tone was flat. “Right. We don’t. But we will if you don’t get over this crush of yours on my girlfriend.” She let the words sit for a second before casually correcting herself. “Well, actually, I don’t care what delusions you churn up in your head. But let’s not act on them, yeah?”

Q scoffed, shaking her head. “You’re reading into things too much, I'm just talking to my teammate.”

Azzi chuckled at Q’s words, but there was no real humor behind it as she was truly starting to get pissed off. “Sure you are.”

Paige, sensing the tension between them, didn’t let it escalate. Instead, she threw an arm around Azzi’s shoulders, pulling her in close. “Let’s go over there, mama,” she murmured.

Azzi exhaled slowly, gaze lingering on Q for a moment longer before finally letting it go. She turned toward Paige, the tightness in her posture easing. “Yeah, okay, baby,” she murmured, her hand naturally finding its place at Paige’s waist as they walked off, leaving Q standing there.

Paige didn’t say anything about the interaction as they weaved through the groups of people, but the way her fingers traced slow circles against the back of Azzi’s neck as they walked told Azzi that Paige knew she was upset.

Paige guided Azzi toward an empty bar stool, pressing a steadying hand to her hip before nudging her down to sit. Once Azzi was settled, Paige stepped between her legs, her hands finding their place on Azzi’s face. Her thumbs brushed over her cheekbones as she looked down at her with a soft smirk.

“What was that?” Paige asked.

Azzi exhaled, her hands naturally settling on Paige’s waist. “I’ve let her little crush go on for too long,” she mumbled. “I’ve been ignoring it since you got here, but she’s doing a lot now.”

Paige chuckled, shaking her head as her thumbs continued their, soothing strokes across Azzi’s cheeks. “You’ve been ignoring it since the summer?” she repeated, amusement clear in her voice. “Baby, I don’t think you’ve ever ignored anything a day in your life.”

Azzi huffed, her hands toying with the ring on Paige’s finger. “I tried,” she mumbled, tilting her head slightly into Paige’s touch. “But she keeps pushing it. It’s like she thinks she has a chance. Or like she’s trying to piss me off.”

Paige hummed, pretending to think about it. “Well…I am pretty decent looking.”

Azzi scoffed, giving her a look. “Paige.”

Paige grinned, leaning in just a little, her voice dropping. “I’m just saying, you can’t blame her. But it doesn’t matter, she doesn’t get to do anything you get to do.”

Azzi’s grip on her waist tightened slightly, and her eyes flickered to Paige’s lips before meeting her gaze again. “Yeah?” she mumbled.

Paige nodded slowly, her smirk softening into something a little more tender. “Yeah beautiful.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the noise of the bar fading into the background. Then, Paige tilted her head down, brushing her lips against Azzi’s in a touch that was barely-there.

“You done being jealous, mama?” she whispered against her lips.

Azzi exhaled, her fingers flexing against Paige’s waist. “No.”

Paige grinned, letting herself sink just a little closer. “Good.”

Then, she pulled Azzi into a kiss.

It was slow and a little messy—Paige letting Azzi take whatever she needed to ease the jealousy still simmering in her chest. Azzi took full advantage, her grip on Paige’s waist tightening as she pulled her closer.

Her tongue slid against Paige’s, drawing out a soft sigh that only made Azzi press closer. She didn’t care that they were still in the bar, didn’t care that people might be watching. The only thing on her mind was making sure Paige felt exactly who she belonged to.

Paige, for her part, let her. She let Azzi kiss her like she was staking a claim, let her hands roam freely over her hips and up her shirt slightly to lightly scratch at her back, let the warmth of Azzi’s body seep into her. And when Azzi finally pulled back, lips swollen and eyes dark, Paige licked her own lips and smirked.

“Feel better, mama?” she whispered, her voice just slightly breathless.

Azzi exhaled through her nose, her hands still gripping Paige’s waist like she wasn’t ready to let go just yet. “Not yet.”

Paige chuckled, leaning in to nip at Azzi’s bottom lip before pulling her into another kiss—once again letting Azzi set the pace, letting her take control.

Azzi wasted no time, deepening the kiss immediately. Her fingers dug into Paige’s waist as her tongue slid against hers. But when Azzi sucked on her tongue—deliberate, slow, and so damn cocky—Paige had to pull back with a breathless laugh, her forehead resting against Azzi’s.

Paige huffed, a smile tugging at her lips as she steadied herself. “You tryna start something, pretty girl?”

Azzi licked her lips, her grip on Paige’s waist still tight. “Nothing I’m not ready to finish.”

Paige chuckled, brushing her thumb over Azzi’s cheek. “That right?”

Azzi hummed, tilting her head slightly into Paige’s touch. “Mhm. You just looked like you needed a reminder.”

Paige raised a brow. “A reminder of what?”

Azzi smirked, her voice dropping lower. “Who you belong to.”

Paige bit her lip, shaking her head as she let out a soft laugh. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Azzi just grinned in response, her dimple showing in the process.

Paige rolled her eyes at Azzi’s cuteness running her fingers through Azzi’s curls, leaning in just enough for their noses to brush. “You done being jealous?”

Azzi exhaled, finally easing her grip on Paige’s waist—just slightly. “Maybe.”

Paige laughed, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Azzi’s mouth before stepping back just enough to grab her water. “You’re cute.”

As they made their way back to the table, Azzi felt the subtle weight of Paige leaning her head against her shoulder when they settled. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Azzi to notice. She glanced over at Paige, brow furrowing slightly. “You okay?”

Paige let out a quiet breath. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Azzi frowned. “Let’s go home then.”

Paige shook her head slightly, offering a small smile. “S’okay, baby. You’re having fun. We can stay.”

Azzi huffed, clearly unimpressed with the answer. Without another word, she stood up and turned to the group. “We’re heading out.”

There were a few playful groans and smirks from their teammates who thought they were heading out for other reasons. Azzi ignored them, already pulling Paige toward the door.

…

When they got to Azzi’s room all they had to do was brush their teeth and change into their pajamas considering they showered after the game.

Azzi was just finishing up slipping on her shirt when she turned to find Paige leaning against the wall, eyes closed. A quiet laugh escaped Azzi as she walked over, reaching for Paige’s wrist.

“C’mon, you big baby,” Azzi teased, giving her a gentle tug.

Paige cracked one eye open, a lazy smirk forming before she pushed off the wall. Without protest, she let Azzi pull her toward the bed, flicking off the light as they moved.

As soon as Paige settled into bed, she instinctively reached for Azzi, draping an arm around her waist and nuzzling closer. Azzi shifted, adjusting so Paige could comfortably rest her head on her chest.

“You good now?” Azzi murmured, running a hand up and down Paige’s back.

Paige hummed in response, her eyes already fluttering shut as she nestled deeper into Azzi’s neck. “Mhm… always when I’m with you.”

Azzi smiled at that, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Paige’s head. “You’re a simp.”

Paige let out a tired chuckle but didn’t argue. The steady rhythm of Azzi’s breathing, easing her into sleep almost immediately. Azzi stayed awake just a few minutes longer, playing with Paige’s hair, before finally letting herself drift off too.

#pazzi #paige x azzi #pazzi fics

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just-shairahhh · 4 months ago

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Safe. Protected. Home.

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Fem!Reader

Author's Note: I finished the entire series in a week and I am literally so obsessed! I cannot wait for the next season and I just had to write for Tim. I really hope you enjoy this. Requests for "The Rookie" are open!

Word Count: 1.2 K

When you think of Tim Bradford, now Sergeant Bradford, a lot of things come to mind. Tough. No-nonsense. Fiercely dedicated. The kind of guy who thrives under pressure and expects nothing less from those around him. Tim’s the guy who keeps people at arm’s length, both metaphorically and literally, a fortress of hard-earned authority. But one thing you’d never peg him as? A sucker for cuddles. Or hugs.

He wasn’t the kind of guy you’d expect to be a sucker for cuddles. Or hugs. Stoic, guarded—those were the words people used to describe him. The guy who kept his emotions in check, always composed, always in control. But after 18 gruelling hours on his feet, every inch of his body ached, and his mind buzzed with exhaustion and all he could think about as he drove home was y/n, the way she’d wrap her arms around him. How she’d rest her cheek against his chest, her warmth seeping into him like sunlight after a storm. It was all he wanted and all he could think about.

The moment he reached home, every part of him itched to burst through the door, stride straight to her, and lose himself in her embrace. He could almost feel it—the warmth of her arms around him, the soft scent of her shampoo filling his senses, melting away the weight of the last 18 hours. But as he reached the door, his hand hesitated on the key. What if she was sleeping? The thought softened his urgency. Quietly, he slid the key into the lock, turning it with deliberate care, the faintest click breaking the silence. Pushing the door open just enough to slip inside, he tiptoed across the threshold, his movements cautious and measured.

But little did he know that sleep was the last thing on her mind. She was curled up on the couch, a book resting in her lap, softly humming along to the faint music playing in the background. The moment her y/e/c eyes met his, her face lit up, and she sprang to her feet, her joy radiating like sunlight through the room. Her expression quickly shifted as her gaze sharpened, scanning him from head to toe with practiced care. She looked for any signs of injury, any hidden pain he might be hiding, her concern as palpable as her love. Only when she was certain he was physically okay, did the tension in y/n's shoulders ease, and a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding escaped. His reaction was the opposite though. The sharp, vigilant eyes that had been trained all day to watch for danger, to stay alert to every possible threat, softened the instant they locked onto hers. In her presence, the edges of his world dulled, and for the first time in hours, he felt something close to peace. Tim Bradford had finally made it to his home.

“You’re home,” y/n said softly, he didn’t say a word, just crossed the room in three long strides and pulled her into his arms. The weight of the world slipped away as her familiar scent surrounded him, grounding him.

"Hey, baby," she said softly, her voice warm and soothing as she pulled him closer. "Rough day? I saw the news. I’m so proud of you."

He let out a weary sigh and pulled back a little, “I’m just grateful we got those kids back to their parents safely," he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion yet tinged with relief.

Y/n reached out, her fingers grazing his cheek gently. "You did good," she whispered, her gaze steady and full of admiration. "More than good." Tim only hummed in response as he buried his face further into her hair.

"Are you hungry? Should I warm up some dinner for you?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as her eyes searched his face.

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "No, we grabbed something from the food truck near the station before heading out. Did YOU eat?" His hands found her cheeks, cupping them gently as his eyes filled with worry, scanning her face like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

She grinned, a playful spark lighting her expression. "I did. The last time I offered to wait and have dinner with you after work, you threatened to watch ‘The Bachelor’ without me. Remember that?"

His smile widened into a low chuckle. "And the threat still stands," he teased. "I’m gonna grab a quick shower, and then we can get back to it. Maybe... some cuddles, too?" His voice softened with hope, a rare vulnerability sneaking through his exhaustion.

"Deal, Sergeant," she replied, laughter bubbling in her tone as she poked his chest. "But make it quick, or I’m starting the episode without you."

He gave her a mock salute, his grin growing as he headed for the bathroom.

When he came back, the living room was unrecognizable, transformed into a cosy sanctuary. Y/n had pulled out the couch to its full size, layering it with a soft, inviting blanket and scattering pillows around. A few of her stuffed toys nestled in the corners, adding a playful touch, while a small assortment of chocolates and snacks sat neatly on the table beside the sofa, within easy reach. The fairy lights she’d insisted on months ago— “They add character!” she’d argued—were now casting a warm, gentle glow over the room, their soft twinkle making the space feel magical. The TV was ready, paused at the latest episode of ‘The Bachelor’, the title screen glowing in quiet anticipation. As if that wasn’t enough, a few lavender-scented candles flickered softly in the background, their soothing aroma already working to calm his frayed nerves. She’d remembered, of course—lavender always helped him unwind.

He stood there for a moment, taking it all in, his heart swelling with gratitude and affection. This wasn’t just a room; it was a safe haven. Yet none of it held a candle to her. Y/n was his safe haven. She stood in the middle of it all, a quiet smile playing on her lips, her eyes full of love and a hint of mischief. Y/n wasn’t just the one who made the room feel like home. She was home.

“Hey, you’ve been standing there for a while. Want me to bring the party to you?” she quipped.

With a terse nod, he shakes his head and runs over to her. No words were needed.

As he reached her, she shifted on the couch, sitting upright to make room for him. Without hesitation, he lowered himself onto the soft cushions, resting his head against her chest. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat filled his ears, a soothing melody that made every hardship, every struggle of the last few days, feel distant and almost insignificant. He snuggled in closer, his body melting into hers, while her arms wrapped around him protectively. One hand rested on his back, grounding him, while the other slipped into his hair, her fingers weaving through the strands with gentle, rhythmic motions.

For years, Tim Bradford had carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, always the protector, always the shield. But here, in her arms, he finally felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in far too long.

Safe. Protected. Home.

#tim bradford x reader #tim x reader #the rookie #tim bradford #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford x fem!reader #the rookie imagine

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kedsandtubesocks · 10 months ago

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game changer

MLB pitcher!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: back from your first semester of grad school your parents lovingly drag you out to celebrate with an old family friend - but what unfolds there (and after) cracks you wide open

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak/modern AU & Joel has both his daughters, dad’s friend!Joel, unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but is a drinking aged adult & Joel is in his early 50’s), light use of gendered language, yearning & flirting, some light angst, brief alcohol consumption, masturbation (f), smutty thoughts, heavy makeout, spicy themes, allusions to smut (p in v), Joel’s dirty talk, one use of “good girl,” one light ass smack, reserved but soft!Joel, start of secret relationship, lots of baseball talk

word count: 9.1k (I’m sorry)

a/n: i know, i know another non-typical AU for Joel but I blame my sports girlie heart & baseball season so here we are lol big thank you to @swiftispunk for always putting up with my sports ramblings LMAO im so sorry Han ily, special thanks to @burntheedges @undercoverpena @tightjeansjavi @msjarvis because this truly wouldn’t be here without y’all - you don’t know how much you babes mean to me & I can’t thank y’all enough…now to you, if you’re reading this too I also can’t thank you enough ♡

You barely have any solid memories of Joel Miller, even if he was your dad’s oldest friend. And if you were being honest, you remember his brother Tommy more who smiled so warmly and seemed to radiate warmth.

Now you stand before Joel Miller’s face on the side of the Globe Life field along with the rest of the Texas Rangers professional baseball team.

It’s a cool evening in Arlington. Everyone seems to bask in the weather that feels perfect for a night of baseball.

Home from your first grad school semester, you didn’t think you’d be going to a game. But your parents explained how good the tickets were, and that even if you didn’t care about the game, you could just enjoy the stadium. So with the promise of free food and a nice night out, you were sold.

Now you’re here.

“Yesterday Joel said to head to the side entrance, that’s where we can check in.” Your dad eagerly explains and stunned you simply follow along like a confused duckling.

The sea of jerseys sweeps you into a sports wave until you’re deposited in a new space. Your jaw almost drops.

The VIP suites sit at the very side edge of the field, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever seen.

The seats are incredible. Everything feels deluxe but comfortable. Someone calls out to your mom, and soon enough the rest of the Miller family approaches.

Tommy’s married now and his wife Maria is lovely, so is their baby. Joel’s daughters, Sarah and Ellie, are older. Time sucker punches you in the gut seeing how much time has passed, but you warmly greet everyone. You realize how long it really has been since you saw any of them.

You greet everyone warmly and appreciate all their surprised welcome seeing you back.

“Joel’s glad y’all were finally able to make it. Been talking about it since yesterday.” Tommy explains.

“Yeah us too! Just worked out that we all could come out and enjoy this with someone back home now.” You mom teases, but it’s warm.

Even though you were cities away, the new workload just kept you so busy.

You’re grateful to be here too. Even though your mind still swirls trying to grasp all of this.

You knew your dad’s friend made it big as a professional baseball player. Joel and his family left Austin to move to Arlington after he signed for the Rangers. So you rarely saw them. But with your mom’s job recently relocating here, your dad talked non stop about maybe seeing more of the games. It never really clicked that your family knew a professional sports athlete. Plus you never cared too much for sports to even look more into it.

Now as the game starts with a wild explosive and electric opening, you feel like you’ve slipped into another reality.

Then Joel’s entrance arrives, and your heart jumps out of your chest. The stadium erupts in a wild frenzy. The music for his arrival is western themed, grand and epic.

“All of this is because the league calls him Cowboy Miller.” Your dad explains.

The nickname was given to him not just because of his very southern twang, but Joel’s cold demeanor on the mound along with his wild style of pitching. All this led to him being deemed a Cowboy.

You understand why.

A serious air of power radiates from Joel while he approaches the mound.

Wearing a jersey with the number two on it, he’s older, more distinguished than the last time you remember him. Grays pepper his beard and the shadow of his baseball cap highlights the wrinkles flowing across his face.

He’s handsome, utterly gorgeous. His shoulders look broad, pure striking mountains, in his white jersey.

It’s like your mind finally registers and settles into the reality he’s a man, a full grown and incredible man.

And he really is incredible.

Even though he’s older for a pitcher, he still possesses dazzling talent. You even clap loudly when he strikes one of the batters out.

Your eyes never leave him. Joel sternly staring down the batter is terrifying. His legs look strong as he whips the ball fast to the home plate. Your eyes can’t help but flicker to his ass when he walks back to the dugout.

He’s gorgeous.

But cold reality crashes into you when your dad brightly yells. Joel is your dad’s friend, and that thought sours the bubbling feelings in your chest.

So you try focusing on the game, which actually turns out to be rather fun. The vibe of the stadium, along with the atmosphere of the game itself, is easy to melt into.

At one point someone gets a hit off Joel and he has to run to cover first. He’s surprisingly fast. Seeing him catch the ball, get the out, is so impressive and hot as fuck.

After that the Rangers switch pitchers.

As he leaves the mound, the stadium cheers at Joel’s exit. Very politely he nods, raising his hand in a quick goodbye to everyone. Then he scans the crowd.

It’s admirable seeing how he instantly finds where his family is. Joel’s roughed face melts soft with a small crooked grin hearing the applause they give him. He even spots your dad proudly cheering.

Joel’s eyes then lock with yours. Still walking towards the dugout, his face stays on you while his focus narrows in a cloudy confusion like he’s trying to recognize you.

Then his eyes go wide as realization sinks in.

You weakly grin back. It’s all you can do before Joel is fully gone from your line sight. Your heart thumps erratically within its cage.

The Rangers unfortunately lose by three. Once the game ends, you decide to swing by the merch store.

“Guess the game made you a fan huh?” You mom perks up noticing you eyeing the jerseys.

You shrug easily with an eased grin.

After this the Rangers have a five game stretch at home.

You only know because after the game you check for all things about the team, about Joel. You haven’t brought yourself to look at any videos of Joel yet. But you did discover from the team's instagram that he has one too.

Early the next morning, still lounging in bed, you scroll through Joel’s instagram page. It seems very professional, like it’s run by a social media manager primarily using it to promote Joel without being too personal.

You’re not paying attention, still a bit too focused on your phone, when a knock comes at the door.

Your face scrunches up confused. Then terror sucker punches you when you see who’s at the door.

No way.

Opening the door Joel stares at you, but this time wearing striking thick black rimmed glasses. They make him incredibly distinguished. Instead of seeming like a professional baseball player you’re reminded of a studious professor. And without a baseball cap on, you’re given sight of his soft glorious curls and the light gray streaks dancing among them.

He’s knockout beautiful.

Of course, you’re still in your mismatched lounge clothes and barely look like you’ve left bed.

He says your name, greeting you with a curt nod. You swiftly greet him with an awkward hello.

“Are you going for like a Clark Kent thing?” You blurt before you can stop yourself.

Joel’s face scrunches up as he sighs.

“Gotta take a break from my contacts s’all.” He admits with a grumpy reply.

But it’s his thick twang, the familiar southern accent - that sweeps you breathless.

“How do they even let you pitch?” You lightly tease, and

Joel rolls his eyes.

“Good to see ya too.” He rumbles, finally greeting you.

Now realizing he’s still standing in your doorway, you let him in.

Joel explains how he wanted to come by, visit your folks, catch up, and thank them for getting to stop by.

You’re the one early thanking him.

“The tickets were incredible. And you did amazing the other night.” You add sincerely.

“Oh, yeah thanks. Glad we won.” Joel nods.

“So they let you just roam around?” You ask slightly stunned still seeing him here in your family kitchen.

Joel scoffs. “Ain’t gotta be at the stadium till later.”

“So, was uh…surprised to see ya at the game.” His tone now reeks of trying to just make small talk.

Weakly you grin back explaining it was a nice change from your days on campus.

“So…back from school, huh.” That awkward thick small talk tone of his gets worse especially as he asks how’s it going and what you’re doing.

For being a talented professional pitcher, right now he simply seems like just some guy…

Just your dad’s pal.

The thought brings a strange acidic taste in your mouth.

You explain school is going good and how you’re here just visiting until the next semester starts up again.

Politely he asks what you’re going to school for. You tell him about your program, explaining all the classes you’re taking and even about the undergrad classes you help TA for.

Joel nods, quiet. You wonder if this sounds boring to a man who professionally plays baseball everyday.

“You’re damn smart.” He then whistles low, and his compliment jumpstarts your heart.

“Haven’t read a book since… shit can’t even remember when.” Joel muses.

“What? They don’t have you take baseball quizzes for pitching?” You joke, but it falls flat. Joel just gives you a dull look.

However his lips twitch faintly, like he’s fighting a grin, and it makes you grin.

“Though, I’ve heard you could maybe work on your slider pitch.” You add.

From the clips you’ve seen and the comments you’ve read, that's the one thing others have commented on, along with how unbearably handsome he is. ESPN even named him one of sports top most eligible bachelors.

“Oh?” Joel’s eyebrows rise up fast. Crossing his hands over his chest, Joel turns towards you more.

“Suddenly you’re a sports analyst now, huh?” The way his voice perks up confidently, matching your edge of playfulness, causes something to get stuck in your throat.

“Y’gonna start telling me how to pitch too? Just like your old man used to.” Joel adds still with that same tone and even chuckles.

But his words slice through you. Swallowing hard, you steel yourself tight.

Thankfully the sound of the front door unlocking arrives. Your parents are home.

“You’re fantastic, Joel. Glad I got to see it live.” You tell him earnestly looking him straight in the eye, as if to stare him down and remind him unwavering you’re a grown adult. Even if you’re in lounge shorts and holey t-shirt, you try holding your head high with as much grace as you can.

With that you head to tell your parents Joel is here then quietly slip back to your room.

Eventually your mom knocks on your door and pops her head in.

“There’s another game tonight. Wanna go?” She offers.

You decline, explaining you want to rest and catch up with a few shows you’ve been neglecting. Thankfully neither of your parents pressure you to join them.

With the house to yourself, you now search for as many videos of Joel you can.

Even slowly starting to understand baseball at a base level, you realize Joel ‘Cowboy’ Miller really is spectacular. You hear about his time playing for The University of Texas and how adored he is by his alma mater.

Then heat crawls up your chest when you see clips of him drenched in sweat, heavily breathing, or even licking his lingers to help with the ball grip.

You quickly turn the videos off before you get yourself worked up.

This has to be just a simple infatuated infestation. You simply need to try to shake it off.

The last home game the Rangers play the Minnesota Twins and Joel isn’t pitching. You again decide to sit this game out. You just have to detox yourself of Joel Miller.

Until you’re invited to a dinner cookout at his home. You thought about maybe playing sick, but with how hungry you are, you see this just as an opportunity to get a nice meal.

Your dad casually mentions Joel’s house has a pool, a nice bonus. He just forgot to mention how huge the Miller house would be.

Though gorgeously grand, it’s still surprisingly cozy. In the backyard you spot Joel at the grill and it makes your head spin. The weathered old burnt orange Texas longhorn shirt he wears looks cozy and casual, sits on him beautifully highlighting his shoulders.

You slip into the pool hoping it will cool you off. But your eyes always find Joel who now laughs with your dad.

Joel’s eyes suddenly flicker to yours, catching you staring red handed. Immediately you sink back into the water.

There’s more people here than expected and you feel a bit out of place. After drying off, you decide to head inside for a drink.

The soft Texas evening illuminates the home in a gentle glow. The music from outside floats in a soft hum making the room feel like it’s underwater.

Ellie told you the house was free for you to roam and from the quick tour she gave, you caught a glimpse of something you want to see more.

So letting yourself maybe take another peek, you walk back to the small alcove carved in the wall. It’s honestly a rather quiet achievement exhibition compared to other grand trophy rooms you’ve imagined.

There are honestly more pictures of Sarah and Ellie, along with Tommy and the rest of the Miller clan, decorating the main hallway of the house. All of it suits Joel.

His UT longhorn jersey is framed on the wall. There are a few awards clustered together, a couple of magazine covers where he looks so dashing in his uniform.

But what makes your heart float are the framed drawings of Joel with a baseball on the mound that range from adorable scribbles to a rather good pencil sketch. These had to be Ellie and Sarah’s work.

“If you’re thinkin’ about stealin’ somethin’ maybe go for the jersey. I can always get another one.”

Joel’s drawl trickles out, and you almost jump out of your skin. Turning to the side he walks to where you are. You hate how exposed you feel just being caught in his gaze and also obviously browsing in his home.

“Nah, I was hoping for a World Series ring to steal and sell but.” You shrug playful, knowing now he’s gone to the Series but never won.

Joel makes a low hissing sound like he’s injured.

“Damn, y’hit low.” He chuckles low.

You grin triumphantly.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get a ring someday.” You say simply.

“Sound sure about that.” He replies.

“Cause it’s true.” You nod. “You’re pretty great.”

Even with your limited knowledge of baseball, it’s easy to see how great he is. Joel is incredibly talented, a shining star stitched in accomplishment. Yet you can tell hasn’t let it go to his head. He’s anchored by his loved ones, and it’s admirable. You even tell him that.

“I…thanks.” He stumbles for a moment, deep dark eyes a bit cloudy as he searches your face with his voice thick and rumbled.

“What game has been your favorite?” You suddenly ask, wanting to know more about him.

His eyebrows furrow and his deep eyes glaze over a bit distant, creating a face of thought that looks adorable.

Then he nods with a soft grin remembering.

“One of the first games the girls gotta go to.” He paints a picture of seeing his daughters, sitting with their uncle Tommy, wearing too large adorable Texas Rangers jerseys.

“One of the best games I ever played.” He adds gently.

He really is a rare beauty of a man with a gilded heart of gold.

“And you? Your folks talk about ya nonstop. Tell me about grad school. And none of that simple ‘it’s good’ crap.” The quick playful mimic he does of your voice makes you laugh warm and bright.

So you tell him about your favorite moments from lecture and the fondness you have for simply embracing subjects you love so much.

Joel stares fully focused on you. You swear his eyes twinkle like stars might be sowed right in his deep earth depths.

He opens his mouth, eager to continue the conversation. Until the kitchen comes alive with more people entering inside. The bubble breaks, but electricity still brews under your skin.

The next day the Rangers have a game at Globe Life Field you go.

Even if Joel isn’t pitching, you want to experience this world he loves so much. You’re however surprised to find Joel is starting.

Your dad explains how one of the pitchers planned for today had to rest. So Joel will simply be the opener before the rest of the bullpen steps in.

Your heart doesn’t rage wildly as it did like seeing him the first time. Now you feel almost drawn to Joel. You focus on his stance on the mound, so disciplined and almost hauntingly serious.

The Arizona Diamondbacks batter hits the ball solid. It flies straight at Joel, and fear sinks its fangs into you.

Until with fast reflexes Cowboy Miller catches the ball eased. You and the stadium erupt wild.

The Rangers win one to four. On the high of the game, you head to the jerseys again in the shop.

“You should get one!” Your mom urges.

Your fingers itch, almost begging you to grab the jersey that says Miller on it. But something continues to hold you back.

On the drive back home, you now see all the great reaction clips and memes of the game. There's a particular one of Joel catching the ball that includes a great western music overlay, like he’s a hero in an old cowboy movie.

Feeling brave, you send the reel to his Instagram profile. You even add underneath the message “now you just gotta work on that slider pitch.”

You send it. Think, hell at worst the poor social media manager will see it and not even give it the time or day. He must get so many messages anyway.

When you get home, you see the message has been read.

But also, a new profile has followed you.

JM_8712

The profile also sent you a message.

JM_8712: ain’t nothing wrong with my slider

No way.

This can’t be who you think it is. You message back saying this possibly can’t be the real Joel Miller because he doesn’t seem like the type to even know how to send a gif.

JM_8712: think ur so funny huh

The account sends a simple gif of someone rolling their eyes.

Then another message flies in.

JM_8712: ur dad get those damn nachos he kept bitchin about with Tommy?

It feels like one of Joel’s changeup pitches knocks you out.

Because it’s really him messaging you. When you even go to double check the blank profile just to make sure, it barely follows more than twenty people and you spot Ellie and Sarah’s accounts among those profiles.

Warmth unfolds from your chest, dangerous and electric. This is Joel’s personal private account.

Unknowingly this all kicks off something you never thought would have ever started. You and Joel start talking.

The messages flow between you and him, back and forth, at first just talking about the games. Then, when the Rangers leave to travel, the messaging increases.

Joel sends you pictures of the places he travels, the food he eats, the vacant stadiums he gets to enjoy.

You devour it all with a greedy eagerness. However it dawns on you that you’re sliding down a slope too slippery to stop.

For the rest of the summer you earnestly check your messages on the app.

One evening, on a stormy delayed game against the Dodgers, your messages don’t send through. The weather is getting worse in Los Angeles.

“They’re gonna reschedule the game. Storm’s not letting up.” Your dad comments glumly.

You just hope Joel is alright.

Instagram finally alerts you of a message and your heart jumps.

Joel.

JM_8712: sorry connections shit

Then he simply sends you his phone number.

You wonder if you’re seeing things.

Trying to keep calm you text the number a simple message asking if he’s alright.

When your text alert chimes, it rattles your brain.

Yeah im good thanks

Then another message follows. It’s a photo from the locker, bags packed like he’s ready to leave.

Looks like room service for tonight

It’s Joel. You’re texting Joel right now.

It feels like a step deeper into a current you never want to leave.

Texting seems to shift the energy between you and him, a transmutation you never could have imagined.

You text Joel good morning and he tells you good night. You and him bond over a love of music. He’s got incredible taste while also complimenting yours. You stay up late on game days when pitched and now feel your throat dry up knowing you’re getting to know the man on the mound.

The desire brewing more for Joel mixes with the summer heat and melts the days away. Soon enough summer dwindles away, and your new semester approaches.

The drive back to your apartment is a good couple of hours. Funny enough Joel is also traveling today for a game. Stopping for gas midway, your phone goes off.

You think at first it must be one of your parents.

But instead it’s Joel.

You scramble to answer.

“Hey,” his voice sounds incredibly richer and deep on the phone.

“Y’doin’ alright?” Joel asks hesitant.

That catches you off guard.

“Oh yeah, just finished putting in gas actually. Why, what’s up?” You relax more into the conversation now curious to why he called asking that.

Joel sighs.

“Sorry I just…your last text uh, it just got me worried.”

Now you’re really curious about what you texted him. It had been half an incomplete response you sent. Even from your side it seemed abrupted and strange.

Sighing, you apologize that you didn’t even realize you had done that. In the rush of wanting to get out on the road you must have just sent the text.

But it suddenly hits you. Joel called because he was worried. That thought rips into you with a ferocious rawness.

“Okay yeah,” Joel says a bit clumsily. “I’ll…let you go.”

“No, it’s okay.” You quickly reassure him. “How’s the traveling going?”

“Good, just finished rewatching one of the inflight movies.”

“Please tell me it was Field of Dreams.” You tease him with the iconic baseball film as you head back on the road. Just now with Joel on the phone.

On speaker, Joel scoffs echoing in your car all around you. You realize this might be a bad decision trying to stay focused driving while also talking to him.

“Funny.” His thick drawl is dry but so softly teasing just below the surface.

“Was some new movie Sarah told me to watch but…fell asleep.” Joel admits low.

Thinking of him asleep on the plane clutches at something warm and deep in you.

Yes you can admit how badly you want Joel, how you picture what his calloused fingers would feel like on you, in you. But you also are finding yourself aching for more now…

Like falling asleep beside him while watching a movie, or sharing a meal with him and teasing him over his dry sense of humor.

It’s dangerous falling deeper like this.

Especially now in a blink you realize you’ve been talking to Joel this entire drive to your apartment.

“Shit sorry.” He realizes it when he sees the time. “Y’should’ve told me to fuck off. Don’t gotta waste your time talkin’ to some old ass like me.”

He rarely comments on his age, and his words sink hard into your gut.

“Trust me… I’m glad I get to talk to you.” You truthfully tell him.

“You’re the one who probably has better things to do than talk to me.” You add slightly dejected. The words even sting your lips.

“Like watching Field of Dreams.” You quickly add some light humor trying to dispel your heartache leaking in.

Joel snorts.

“Definitely would rather chat with you than watch that.” Joel mutters, but his world electrifies your skin.

“I’m flattered knowing I can beat Kevin Costner.” You joke. When he snorts amused, warmth fills you to the brim.

Someone in the distance calls out to Joel, and you know your time with him is limited. It’s confirmed when he sighs.

“Gonna be landing soon. Ya make it to your place okay?” He asks.

“I did, thank you. And thanks for keeping me company on the drive.” You smile to yourself.

“Don’t mention it. Uh, glad you made it back safe.” Joel replies and his words make you melt.

You say his name quick.

“Can you just… Text me when you make it to the hotel?” Just to know he’s safe. It’s simple, but it feels as if the words weigh a ton.

A moment passes.

“Yeah, will do.” Joel agrees.

He doesn’t text you. Instead Joel calls you when he gets to the hotel.

“Saw a full on fuckin’ fight at the airport when we landed.” Joel rambles immediately, and you learn how much of a secret gossip he is. While Joel breaks down all the details of what he saw, you realize he wanted to tell you about this.

A light burst in your chest because you want to tell Joel everything too.

And when your next semester starts, you tell him all you can.

The texting stays but evolves into more frequent phone calls. Joel listens to you with a gruff saint’s patience. He faintly picks up the names of your professors, even the name of your roommate. At one point he even stays on the phone with you when you cook dinner.

Joel calls during the stretch of waiting at the airports, a few times after games. Sometimes he rants about his teammates, sighs about his frustrations when they lose or when he ends up not doing well on the mound.

While every inch in your body still hums for Joel, it’s steady now - like you’re slowly accepting these emotions fully into your bloodstream and part of your existence.

You adore Joel, maybe more than you want to admit.

During a rare night out with your friends from class, feeling nice in your favorite outfit, courage courses through you. After posting a few photos from your night out, you also post a rather nice selfie.

You pray Joel sees it. Then you get a bit tipsy, and it takes all your willpower not to text Joel.

But the alcohol burns in you. Once you’re back at your apartment, in the safety of your room, you pull up your favorite video.

It’s a spring training video the Rangers made of the team preparing for the upcoming season. The video ranged from showing the guys on the field practicing, to them in the weight room.

There’s a nice small segment just on Cowboy Joel Miller. Specifically he’s training with a few weights and when you first saw it, your throat got so dry.

Joel is drenched in sweat. The simple worn navy blue shirt sticks to his body, highlighting the tone of his arms and width of his shoulders. Curls wet with sweat stick to his forehead. His concentrated face is sinful.

But not as hot as the sounds he makes.

The grunts, the soft growls, the exhales he gives lifting the weights… they drench your thoughts with images of him fucking.

You’ve never done this before, never gotten off on his videos. You never wanted to fall this far.

But it’s so hard when your body feels molten, so wet hearing with his groans directly in your ears. Your fingers trail down to relieve the throbbing wet ache between your legs.

Imagining Joel’s sweaty gorgeous body pressed against yours, picturing his thicker fingers in you, getting to taste him on your tongue - you come incredibly fast.

The next morning a text and a somber guilt wait for you.

Joel of course had messaged you.

Looks like you had fun last night

So he did see your pictures. A blistering heat crawls in your throat.

But reality sinks in fast. You got off to Joel. You don’t want to feel guilty. You reason there’s probably others who have maybe done it. But it does quietly eat at you.

So much that you don’t even reply to Joel for the whole day trying to sort your mind out. He’s the one that eventually calls you.

“Y’go out on a date or somethin’?” Joel asks about the night out, and your mind sputters to a halt.

“Oh uh, no. Just went out with some friends in class.”

“Oh.” He replies quick. “Well, looked like fun.”

You agree and thank him.

“But yeah, no dates for me.” You weakly laugh.

“Yeah? Any reason why?” Joel presses.

Because you’re partially head over heels for him, but you can’t admit that yet.

“No one’s asked me recently that’s all.” You reply simply. You’ve done the dating apps, had the headache mess of ghosting and awkward dates.

Joel snorts. “Pretty thing like you? Hard to imagine.”

His words, like a change up ball that drops wildly in the air, disorient you.

“Trust me, it’s real.” You dryly reply.

“And you? You must be seeing some famous celebrity in secret huh?” You teasingly ask.

You’ve seen the ESPN clips of the beautiful reporters flirting with him, cooing at how handsome he is. He probably could snag a supermodel or other famous person.

Joel barks a hollow laugh of a thing.

“No, none of that.” He answers.

“Ain’t not time for that or…mainly…haven’t found anyone who’s got the patience for me.”

Your heart sinks.

“Wait, what do you mean?” You quietly press.

He sighs.

“M’ older, a single dad. My schedule ain’t perfect. And those that have tried to uh… pursue something haven’t always had the best intentions.”

His voice trails off somber. You wonder how many just wanted him for his money or fame.

A grim cloud seems to settle above you.

“You’re a great guy Joel, an incredible one.” You earnestly tell him. “Those who can’t see it don’t deserve you.”

“And I have to say it but…you’re a real catch.” You go for the obvious baseball pun.

Joel’s chuckle is a beautiful low gruff treasure.

“That was bad.” You can almost picture him shaking his head. “But thanks…same uh, same goes for you. You’re smart, gorgeous. Someone will come around to see you’re worth it.”

You’re drowning in his words. They feel too much.

He ends up having to quickly end the call with his manager calling, and you’re thankful for it. Because this blooming rawness in you feels like it’s getting too much, yet not enough.

Joel’s compliments are sincere. But many feelings tangle you up. It hurts, like you’re stuck in a rose bush trying to get comfortable within the thorns.

Then, the universe decides to pull you away from Joel.

Classes kick up and the workload piles on. You’re exhausted. It even gets harder to reply to Joel as swiftly as you did. You even miss a few of his phone calls and don’t even call him back.

The days blur together.

Then, one morning you find a text waiting for you.

hope you’re alright

You want to cradle that message.

When you call Joel, it’s like not a day has passed between you and him. Your heart soars hearing his voice again.

“So uh…” Joel begins cautiously, and you’ve never heard him this nervous almost. “We’ll be heading your way into town soon.”

That’s right.

Caught up in the semester you completely forgot the team would be playing the Astros soon. Excitement immediately rises in you.

“Hope ya can come out and see us. And if ya do, let me know.” Joel suggests and you swear his voice sounds shy.

The minute the conversation ends, you try checking for tickets. But they’re a pretty penny. You jokingly circle the top section, the highest nosebleeds, and text him saying he needs to try and find you from here.

He texts back immediately.

Don’t worry about the tickets. Just head to will call and let them know you’re with me. Got it covered

That might be one of the hottest things you’ve ever read.

Game day can’t approach any faster. Your parents even mention the upcoming game when you call to check up.

“You should try to go!” Your dad urges, eager.

A part of you has wondered if Joel mentioned you to your dad. You’ve kept quiet, not saying a thing about whatever this is with Joel, and you now think so did Joel.

You take a small comfort in that.

When game day does arrive, you head to Minute Maid Park alone. Your closest friend and classmate couldn’t make it, and neither could your roommate. But for some reason, you’re slightly okay with being here by yourself.

At the ticket window, you nervously say that you’re here for Joel. Like if nothing they verify your name, and with an ease slide tickets your way.

Not just any tickets, but seats right by the Rangers dugout.

Still stunned, but now slightly lost, you can’t help but feel stranded in the stadium.

“You okay, sweetie?” A lovely voice comes and when you turn, you find a sweet older motherly woman. She wears a Texas Rangers jersey and another younger woman stands besides her in the same jersey. They both stare at you concerned.

“You lost?” The younger woman asks sympathetically.

It must be that obvious. The motherly older woman politely asks to check your tickets to point you in the right direction. She perks up.

“Aw look at that! You’re sitting close to us! Come on, we’ll show ya around!” She beams warmly.

“Wait, are you sure?” You ask worried.

“Oh of course,” the younger woman reassures you with a smile. “The stadium is so huge and besides, us Rangers fans gotta stick together.”

She then winks, noticing the Rangers shirt you bought and wore for the game.

You find out Malinda, the older woman, is the mother of the first baseman. And the other lady, Casey, is his wife.

Kindly, this sweet family adopts you, guiding you towards the section literally right besides the dugout on the other side of the net.

You’re stunned in shock yet again.

Even though your tickets are a few rows away from the two sweet ladies, they reassure you you’ll be fine sitting with them.

It’s beautiful and comforting.

“So, who are you here for?” Casey asks with a friendly gossip like whisper. “These seats are for friends and family, and I haven’t seen you around before.”

But then she quickly reassures you don’t have to explain if you don't want to.

You with a weak laugh you’re here to see Joel, adding that he’s a family friend. Her eyes go wide.

“Oh wow! And he warmed up today too so he might pitch!” She says excitedly.

Joel had texted you before the line up was confirmed that he would be warming up.

Don’t know if I’m gonna get put in but just in case

Even if he didn’t, you told him you just wanted to be there to support him.

With the Rangers being the visiting team, they bat first. You want to root for the guys to get a hit and get on base, but you also already selfishly want to see Joel.

Three outs come and the Rangers switch to take the field. No sign of Joel.

In fact he doesn’t show up until the fifth inning, and it happens so casually. Joel simply walks out from the dugout and takes your breath away.

The team wears their cobalt blue jerseys and the color flatters Joel marvelously.

It feels like seeing him for the first time all over again but through a deeper lens you can’t explain.

You clap and cheer with pride when he manages to strike out the first batter. Then the second.

Two strikeouts back to back.

Joel told you back in his younger days he struck out seven hitters in a row. Now for him to get two, much less strike out the third batter, is something to applaud and admire. And the Rangers fans here, including yourself, cheer loud when the team heads back for the next inning.

“Cowboy Miller in his golden age.” Someone off to the side whistles appreciatively.

You don’t fight the syrupy fondness swallowing you whole.

“It’s rare that a more…seasoned pitcher like Joel still is relied on,” your new friend Casey explains. “But it’s hard to see why not. Everyone’s been saying like he’s almost found a new groove and still has so much power.”

He’s a force you’re terribly in awe of.

Seeing the whip of how strong his body still pitches the ball with a dizzying speed, how handsome he looks under the baseball cap, you want to savor this as much as you can.

Joel manages to get two more strikes out in the second inning. Then by the seventh they get a hit off him but thankfully, no runs come in. Cowboy Miller ends the inning striking out the final batter. You, and the other Rangers fans present, erupt wild.

He did amazing.

Laser focused, locked in on the game, he doesn’t search the crowd or even glance up and you understand. The game gets intense when the Astros manage to hit a home run in the eight. In the end the Rangers win because of an error.

But it’s still a sweet victory.

You relish and warmly celebrate it with your co cheerleaders for the game that made you feel so welcomed with them. You’re about to head up and leave, start looking for an Uber ride home, when Malinda calls to you.

“Sweetie? Aren’t ya gonna wait with us and greet the guys!?” She asks with warm curious sweetness.

You can’t say no.

The commotion sweeps you into a neon coated excitement. There’s a special area sectioned off, almost in a backstage-like section that connects to the entry way for the visiting teams. You’re surprised at how many others wait here.

The team slowly trickles out of the locker room and into the hallway. You’re hilariously reminded of a class being let out.

Then the world then melts away when Joel walks out. Focused on his phone you almost want to call out to him, but your voice gets caught in your throat.

Putting his phone away Joel finally glances up and spots you.

Even with his baseball cap on, you see his eyes widen for a fraction. Your body reacts on its own moving towards him. But he also walks fiercely towards you.

The world blurs away for a moment and then without even thinking, you’re embracing him.

It happens so naturally you don’t even realize what you did until you blink and it’s like you’ve been thrown into cold water.

Panicking, you’re about to pull away until Joel’s arms slowly wrap around you.

“Good to see ya too.” He says low gruff but you’re taken out by the knees grateful your body doesn’t give out.

He smells of sweat, of the dirt on the field, and something sharply Joel, and it’s wonderful.

Quickly you draw yourself away to proudly tell him how amazing he did. Joel waves you off with a gruff noise as his eyes refuse to meet you, almost bashful.

It’s been so long since you’ve seen him this close, been in the same space as him. And it feels so different.

“Alright, dinner?” Someone says, and when you turn, you’re stunned to see it’s the team manager.

Guess this means you’ll be saying goodbye.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks when he notices you staying back once everyone funnels outside.

“Uh yeah, gotta grab an Uber first. Didn’t wanna drive down here and deal with Houston traffic along with awful parking during a game.” You joke, and Joel snorts.

“Let me take ya back then.” He offers, and you almost drop your phone.

You scramble out reassuring Joel it’s fine.

“Besides, don’t you have dinner to go to?” And where would he even get a car to take you.

“S’fine. Would rather make sure you get home safe anyway.” He then tells you to hang tight then goes to grab one of the rental cars the team has on ready.

Because of course they do.

Your blood hums wild knowing Joel is taking you home, that you’re going to be alone with him. Even in this glimmering dusted dream you still want to tell Malinda and Casey goodbye and thanks for treating you so kindly.

You wish them well and even welcome their warm goodbye hug.

“Wish you could come to dinner!” Casey frowns.

“Maybe next time.” Her mother in law says bright.

Next time.

“Yes hope to see you at more games.” Casey grins and the possibility bubbles iridescent in you.

With a goodbye to them you wait for Joel. There are still a few others of the wives or girlfriends hanging around while the team sorts out where to go.

You haven’t turned to give them any attention. However something crawls on your skin like you’re hyper aware of being watched.

“Did you see how she hugged him? Probably just using him, poor Joel.” One of them whispers.

“She’s not even that pretty.” Another one giggles.

“Oh then you know he’s maybe just using her then! And if that’s the case then good for Joel.” The other replies with a searing joke that makes your stomach sick.

Joel returns, keys in his hand. “Ready to go?”

You weakly grin back.

You should be basking in this moment of finally getting to be alone with Joel, of getting to see him drive you around. Once in the car he took off his cap allowing you sight of his soft hair. The darkness of the car, the warmth of the city lights flickering by, all coat him glorious. Yet those comments from earlier fester poisonous and sour any hope of enjoying this.

You stay rather quiet while giving him directions to your place.

Joel however is surprisingly talkative.

“So you’ll have to give me recommendations of places to go around here.” His voice even sounds just traces softer, higher almost - like he’s happy being here.

And it kills you.

“Y’seem quiet, you okay?” He notices it of course, ever aware.

“Yeah, just a bit tired. Didn’t know the game would take that much outta me.” You lie.

Eventually you arrive at your apartment complex.

“Your place is nice.” Joel admires as he helps you out of the car like the Texan gentleman he is. He even follows you to your door.

You graciously thank him again for this night and for taking you home.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks again.

You walk a few steps away from him. The night all around is still quiet, feels soupy with how much hangs in you.

You refuse to cry about this, don’t want to get emotional. If anything, you deserve to treat this like an adult.

“Joel…” you start cautiously, already hating the way your voice wavers.

“Yeah?” His voice stays steady, unbothered, but his eyes furrowing say otherwise.

“What…what is this? What are we?” You ask as steady as you can, but your tone continues to crack.

Joel’s eyes brow furrow and his mouth closes, tightening his jaw.

“Just…good friends.” He replies simply, almost cold. “Just showing my pal’s daughter a nice night.”

There it is.

Your soul deflates. So all the times you’ve felt like this might be something, maybe it's just been you wishing it would be.

So salvaging whatever dignity left, you nod.

“Thanks again, Joel.” You reply briskly and return walking towards your door.

He says your name. It stops you dead in your tracks.

“Why? Why d’ya ask that?” He asks, pressing firm and hard.

You turn back to him, and a deep scowl is etched on his face.

“It doesn’t matter.” You answer.

“The fuck does that mean?” He snaps a bit sharp.

“It means what it means.” You fire back.

“Bullshit. Why did you ask that?” Joel growls out firmer.

“Even if I told you, it doesn’t matter.” You repeat.

“Stop sounding like a fuckin’ owl.” His voice rises hard and fast, like a hand slamming on the wall.

It startles you, makes your eyes water and something in you shakes. Mainly because you know this is beginning to taste like the end. The smallest trace of hope is dissipating right before you.

You blink back tears, and immediately Joel’s face falls.

“Honey, I’m sorry-”

Shaking your head, you cut him off. Not even the sweet pet name he effortlessly uses can shake you.

Through gritted teeth you tell him to go.

“Not when you’re this upset.” He urges.

Through tears a sad water laugh escapes you and Joel’s eyes go cloudy.

“I’m realizing…I’ll never be anything to you then just your friend's kid, huh?” Your voice is waterlogged and you can’t fight it.

“You are.” He states simple and straightforward.

You nod, swallowing back the heartache boiling over.

“Can’t be anythin’ more than that.” Joel adds through mutter.

“Why?” You now ask him. Under the amber light of your apartment’s hallway the most frustrated cloudy look hardens his face.

His eyes scan your face then he steps closer towards you

“Don’t act dumb, sweetheart.” His voice rips out low cruel, slightly harsh.

You’re not and you tell him that.

“I…” the words you’ve held locked up so fiercely in your heart now sneak out from their bars to escape.

“I’d give anything to be yours, Joel.” You croak barely realizing you even said that.

He inhales, and his face goes taunt.

You wait for the sharp reply, even brace for it.

Instead Joel swoops in, kisses you wild like a sudden storm, and presses you against the door of your apartment.

Greedily, you claw onto him not wanting to ever let this go, to let him go. Your mouth begs him more to invade and consume. And he does so with a steady hunger.

The clamor into your apartment is messy, but at one point Joel cautiously stops to look around.

“My roommate’s visiting family…” you reassure, kissing his neck and softly under the side of his jaw with delicate cautious lips.

“Just you and me.” You whisper soft.

Joel takes command the minute you lead him to your room.

“Thought about this. Fuck, think about ya all the damn time.” He growls against your neck as he slides your bra off and runs a callous hand over your chest.

“Fucked my fist that first night you went swimmin’ at m’house.” Joel’s words make you whine and then his lips lick against your skin trying to savor you.

“Me too.” You admit through a whimper. “Touched myself thinking of you.”

Joel freezes.

“Tell me,” he says rather calmly, deadly almost.

Your syrupy lust begins fading away when you realize what you said, what he asks for, and what your answer will be.

Your lips and eyes shut close.

Then Joel’s warm breath, like a ghost, crawls against up your chest and tickles against your ear now.

“Come on, honey,” his voice is utterly decadent with a plea. “Tell me, please.”

You swallow hard telling Joel you don't want him to get weirded out.

He hums against your neck already starting to suck a mark against your skin. Your eyes roll back, and the embarrassment is quickly fading away.

“Promise, I’ll be okay.” Joel reassures you with a mumble against your skin.

So with a shaky voice, you weakly admit how you touched yourself to videos of him.

He groans.

“Baby, oh fuck, fuckin - shit.” Joel sputters out hard, like he just got kicked in the gut, and you’re worried until his lips smash into yours.

He devours you.

You’re swept into a tangled dizzying frenzy. Your clothes practically get ripped off as do Joel’s while he clutches onto you and licks into your mouth.

“That’s my girl. Knew you’d be m’good girl.” He says almost drunk and you’re done for.

You fall into the chasm with no hopes of turning back. But you don’t want to.

Joel feels like a god carving open your universe. You want to consume him and want him to consume you. He becomes your center of gravity.

In the aftermath, you’re left basking in Joel’s warmth and never want to leave.

Even though you were in his arms, Joel had to sit up to take a call and now scrolls through his phone. Your fingers trace his beautiful back.

You’re thankful for all the soft lamps you bought that now melt him into a dreamlike glow.

“Joel.”

He hums a gruff gentle noise that says he’s listening.

“I don’t…” you begin softly, then tell him your doubts. You don’t want him to think you’re simply using him for his status or money.

“Joel… you could quit or retire tomorrow and work with your brother as a contractor and I’d still always want you the way I want you.” Your deliciously aching limbs, the soft afterglow, all of it has you speaking soft and freely.

You never wanted Joel because of his fame or even because of the forbidden taste of him being friends with your dad. You wanted Joel for deeper reasons, some that have carved out a chasm in your heart.

You explain this all to him best as you can without rambling or sounding silly.

Joel sighs.

“Y’shouldn’t.” His voice is a hollow rumble. “I’m old, friends with your dad. We shouldn’t be doin’ this.”

Now a bitter venom spills in you.

You glare at his back, how his shoulders slump defeated while you sit up

“I'm an adult, Joel. And if that’s all you’re worried about then sorry it’s a shit reason.” You launch back.

Over his shoulder he glares at you.

“If…” you swallow hard. “If you’re the one who wants to leave, because i’m that young, or you really don't want this or don’t feel what I feel, then fine. At least tell me that.”

“But I care about you. And I want to make this, us, work.” You finish firmly, even with how much emotions clash in your chest.

Joel sighs again. His eyes face turns away now down downcasted.

“Didn’t wanna want you the way I do. You’re so bright, fucking’ smart and so g’damn gorgeous.” He softly admits.

A pause settles between him and you.

“Y’could be with someone younger, less complicated.” Joel admits low.

“Don’t want anyone younger or less complicated. Just want you.” You reassure with a soft steady mutter.

He goes quiet again.

“Used to not get bothered when I started leavin’ away games by myself. With Tommy married and the business booming, then the girls startin’ to have their own lives…I didn’t mind doing this alone.”

Underneath his words you catch it, his rusting loneliness.

“But then…these past few months…and now today seeing ya waitin’ for me…” he says clipped, like the rest of his words are caught in his throat and he can’t free them yet

Joel turns, and his eyes bore into you.

The silence stays as you stare unflinchingly back at him.

He doesn’t need to say anything else. You don’t think you have to either. Like a magnetic pull, it’s effortless moving towards him. Joel’s warm large calloused hand, seasoned from so many seasons of hard work, of pitching, cradles your face. You kiss him with every inch of your heart.

Even after spending the night, you’re surprised Joel hasn’t left yet. He even comments about figuring out lunch plans with you.

“You have another game today, Cowboy.” You comment.

The term makes his eyebrows rise, and the most coy smirk tugs his face making him look so charming.

“Got today off to rest, ya little shit.” It’s affectionate. “Besides my back ain’t what it use to be and after goin’ more rounds with ya this morning-”

In the middle of your living room you rush to kiss him.

The rest of the day unfolds like a dream drenched and stitched from every domestic fantasy you’ve ever had. Joel stands in your kitchen when you make him a quick lunch and you laugh apologizing that your fridge isn’t MLB diet certified. Joel steals your last saved snack after that joke.

Cuddled snug on the couch with him, you try watching a movie but Joel, so greedy and handsy, ends up fucking your brains out with his tongue.

When dinner rolls around, you order from your favorite local takeout place and Joel pays for everything. You ignore all the work you need to do for the week and don’t care. You’re here at this moment and want to stay crystalized in it for as long as you can.

But tomorrow is the last day before the team leaves to Miami to play the Marlins.

While showering with him, you wrap yourself against Joel’s back already dreading his leave. He seems to sense it too because his hands squeezes yours.

Against your shower wall he glides into you tender and slow, almost trying to draw out every inch of this.

Later that night, you try staying up but the day begins settling in. Your eyes flutter trying to fight sleep.

He mutters your name soft while his fingers run soft against your side.

“Hm?” You answer, trying hard to fight your tired eyes.

“Don’t want ya to think i’m ever using you, honey. You’re not just some young thing keepin’ me company.”

His words are simple, but they erupt so much in you.

Joel had been spooning you from behind, but now you immediately turn around to burrow your face against his chest. You reassure him and his arms tighten around you wonderful chains you wish never break.

But the next morning arrives.

“Gonna come to our last game here?” Joel asks while he packs up.

“Don’t know, I heard you guys still have that really old guy who might be pitching.” You say with a shrug.

His face frowns hard, but Joel moves to playfully smack your ass while you laugh. He quickly draws you in for another kiss.

You have class tomorrow and work you need to jump on, but you go to the game. Joel doesn’t play, but you don’t mind. Getting to hug him goodbye one last night in the shadow of the stadium is worth it.

“Text ya when we get to the airport.” Joel promises, secretly placing a soft kiss on your head.

That night when you get home you order not one, but two Joel Miller jerseys.

#again I blame baseball season and the recent dodgers game so here we are lol #but seriously thank you so much if you take the time to read me and pitcher Joel think you’re a home run #pitcher!Joel Miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #baseball player!joel #joel miller fic #pedrostories #Joel 🤎#game changer series

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jamiedc-they-them · 2 months ago

Note

Please a The Rookie Tim Bradford x Shy!Adopted!Daughter!Reader? Where it’s her senior year and she’s a cheerleader and she’s doing her senior solo cheer and the stations there (Angela, Wesley, Nyla, James, Wade, Luna, Lucy, Aaron, Celina) and this is their first reaction to her cheer (her cheer can be this one: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTYognBE1/) and they’re cheering her on and you can finish the rest

Family Matters (Platonic)

Summary: Lucy likes to think she knows Tim at least a little, he is dating her best friend after all. However, what she learns is not something she ever expected.

Notes: Sorry to the requester as I think some of the other characters you mentioned come in later in the show, I'm only up to Season 2 Episode 6. Apologies!

Also, I'm from the UK and also very tired so I apologise if anything about cheer is wrong :)

Lucy knew Isabel was hard for Tim, a spot to not bring up. But, something was eating at him today. It wasn't anger, more...dare she say it? Nervous to him today.

He kept looking at his watch. Even Angela seemed to lighten up a bit with their friendly teasing.

Lucy didn't pressure him, though. So, she kept it casual, keeping their conversations how they normally would, when Tim's phone went off. He had put it in the holder, letting the audio book she recorded for him play as they went on patrol.

"It's Angela," Lucy said, picking up the phone, eyes going confused when she read the text - well, she only read the first part, when it was snatched from her grasp.

"Uh-uh," Tim said. His strict TO voice coming through, but also something else. Something like his look this morning.

"Sorry," Lucy said, hands going up.

"Relax, boot," he said, voice softening a little - ever so little, and yet she still picked up on it. See, she did know him at least, "I ain't gonna arrest you."

She snorted, despite herself, "just never seen someone so defensive over a phone before."

"Look, today's not the day, alright?" he said, sharpness coming back. He looked at her, and she saw a silent plead in his eyes.

"Of course, sir," she said. Then again, curiosity and all that --

"Who's Y/N?" it slipped out before she could even help it.

He looked at her again, this time a look she hadn't seen in his eyes since...well, maybe ever:

Life. Love. Hope.

"She's my daughter," he said.

Her eyes widened.

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

You loved your parents, both of them. You knew what had happened with your mother, your father had told you as gently as he could.

You just hoped that she would be able to make her way out of her addiction. You wanted her to be ok.

She was getting there, taking actual steps to do so.

You would go see her, one day. Your dad had told you that she was ok with that, only wanting to go see her when you were ready.

As for you? You threw yourself into your cheer team.

You had a natural talent for it when younger, and your father had supported you with all he had.

However, as things took a turn, you and him ended up going a bit further into work and hobbies.

You weren't estranged, you still spoke and had parent and child bonding times of watching films. It was just more difficult as you both tried to deal with everything changing.

Tonight was a special performance, a solo cheer that you were doing. You had been doing all you could to practice for it. A chance to prove yourself.

You had been texting your aunt, as you knew your dad didn't like to use his phone much when at work.

She had assured you that herself and some of the others would be there, but that most importantly he would be there.

The other people in your cheer place were nice, friendly and fully got you for you. You didn't talk that much, preferred to be in the background - not that it was a bad thing of course, pieces to a puzzle and all - but they and your coach convinced you to do this solo.

So, you looked at the crowd before the game.

You took a breath, as one of your team mates can up to you, taking you away from the curtain to try help with your nerves.

Your friends were great, but you wanted your family.

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

Lucy now knew why Tim had taken a half shift that day. She knew why Angela had texted him. She knew why he was more on edge than usual.

He wanted to make sure he made it.

"Hey, we ain't having you miss this," Angela promised back at the station, putting a hand on Tim's shoulder as he sat on the corner of a desk, arms folded and staring at his watch every few moments.

A hard half-day had been the last thing he wanted. It had wasted time, even if he made people safe.

"We still need to book this guy," he said, looking to the criminal him and Lucy had brought in for...god, he was so distracted today. He'd missed things like this before, but this one he knew was special from what you had said about it when he got home from work.

He stood up, putting his face in his hands. Sure, he didn't like being as vulnerable as this at work, especially in front of rookies, but from the look Nolan gave him when he met his eyes for a minute, right now it didn't matter about work or ranks, it was a family matter.

"I can book him," Nolan even offered.

It was kind, but Tim waved him off, "she'd want to meet all of you, especially you new rookies. Just..." he looked back at them all, "just...she's a bit shy, ok? So don't like, pressure her to talk or anything."

Nolan was dead serious with the shake of his head, "oh, no, I wouldn't dream of it, sir."

Tim had a growing respect for Nolan, and this was just another reason to add to that list.

"Officer Bradford," Sergeant Grey said as he joined them all, "you are aware that we have other officers here and that this precinct isn't just you all, correct?"

"Of course, sir," Tim said, the others also nodding.

Grey nodded, sly smile, "so why are you all acting like we can't get another officer to book this man in, thus letting us all go and see Y/N's cheer?"

"You're coming?" Tim said and Lucy didn't think she could ever see him so happy.

"Course I'm coming," Grey said like it was obvious, "I've seen that girl grow up, Tim. I'm the favourite uncle."

"Wouldn't you be the gran--"

"Something you'd like to add, Officer Nolan?" Grey asked, eyebrow raised as he pretended not to hear that.

Nolan shook his head instantly, then coughing from Nyla hitting him with her elbow, "no sir."

Grey nodded, "just what I thought. Now," he said, looking at the rest of them before nodding to Tim, "lead the way, Officer Bradford."

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

You took a final breath, your team giving you silent support before you walked onto field, to the centre. Your team hyped you on from the background, all eyes on you.

And so, you began.

You looked at the crowd for a moment, stumbling slightly but managing to catch yourself before anyone noticed.

You looked back to your team, joining in with your chants and pointed subtely.

There they were, old and new faces.

And right in the middle of them? Tim Bradford, your father.

He was clapping, everyone else joining in, both in rhythm and in the chants.

Just like that, it was over.

You all went to the sidelines, and the game went on.

It went by like a flash.

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

After it, you got changed and made your way out, but was swept up in a hug by your father, "there she is!" he said, his guard completely down, "you were amazing, sweetheart!"

You giggled, hugging him close.

"Y/N," he said, putting hand on your shoulder and gesturing for the others to come over, "I'd like you to meet Lucy Chen, my boot; John Nolan, Nyla's boot - previously Bishop's - and Jackson West, Angela's boot."

Lucy came forward, beaming smile and hand outstretched, eager to meet you. You clasped her hand gently, shaking it.

"Hi! It's so good to meet you! You were amazing out there! Tim, I'll send you some photos later and oh, sorry --" she said, knowing she was rambling.

"It - it's ok," you assured. Her smile grew more, before she stepped back, letting her friends go forward as well.

"I agree with Lucy," the older one said, holding out his hand, "John Nolan, pleasure," he had a parental feeling to him that made you feel safe, that he got that you wanted this to be quick.

"Pleasure, ma'am," Jackson said, hand outstretched, "and I concur, you were incredible. You should be proud."

You nodded, giggling a bit before turning to your aunt, "he always this serious."

Angela shrugged, "I'm trying to tire it out of him. We only did a half day, remember?"

You nodded, "...right."

She came over, hugging you before ruffling your hair - something she'd done since you were young, even if now in your late teens, "I'll get there. 'sides, he's a good guy. All three are."

You nodded, "I know, I know," you said.

"I gotta say," Grey said, "that was some cheer. You've grown a lot, Y/N."

"Thank you gr-uncle Grey," you said, looking to your dad who gave you a wink: nice save.

"Hi, Wesley," a man in a suit said.

You shook his hand, eyes coming to life more as you looked back at your aunt, "ah, so this will be my uncle-in-law."

He went red at that, Angela letting out a laugh and cough at that.

She looked to Tim, "traitor!"

Tim raised his hands, "hey, you know the rules when it comes to family -"

"'No secrets', yeah Bradford, I remember," Angela said, rolling her eyes fondly. You did clock how she held Wesley's hand after that.

You looked to Nyla, giving a smile and approaching with hands together.

"You must be the new TO," you said, "I know you're still getting used to being back from undercover. So, I understand if just a hello is ok for now. But, I hope I can get to know you more?"

Nyla smiled softly, "perceptive, aren't you?" she said in a soft tone, "ever thought about being an officer?"

You shook your head, "I'll leave that to you guys. I think I'd prefer just a simple life, however I can."

Nyla nodded, "understood. But, keep that sharp eye of yours."

You tilted your head, looking at her and then at Nolan, "do you both have kids?"

They nodded, "a son, Henry," Nolan said.

"A daughter. Quite a bit younger than you," Nyla said, "I don't know what she wants to be yet, she's still learning. But, and don't tell anyone else this," she said, leaning down a bit, "I might just start bringing up cheer more after seeing moves like that."

You smiled, nodding, before making a zipping motion to your mouth.

You went back to your dad, who put an arm around your shoulder.

This was your family, with new additions.

They loved you for who you were.

Your dad knew you worried. You always would. But, you also had friends to help ground you, just as he did.

Neither of you were alone.

#the rookie x reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford x reader #lucy chen imagine #lucy chen x reader #john nolan x reader #john nolan imagine #nyla harper x reader #nyla harper imagine #jackson west imagine #jackson west x reader #angela lopez x reader #angela lopez imagine #wade grey x reader #wade grey imagine #the rookie imagine

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hauntedfictionland · 5 months ago

Text

❝Forbidden pursuits❞

☾︎✰❛❀ Gwayne hightower x Fem! Reader x Alicent hightower

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You, a Cole of Stormlands and one of the ladies in waiting, had been indulged with the green queen for quite a time. It just so happened that her brother came to king's landing and you truly realised the beauty of the hightowers. Something that could get you in tremendous trouble.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Sexual themes, kissing, jealousy, homophobia, mentions of patriarchy and death, class differences and slightly possessive behaviour.

🪐𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: I had this idea as soon as I saw hotd season two. I mean, I've never done a writing where reader was interested in two characters at once, but there's a first time for everything I guess. And this turned out to be more of a alicent x reader fic, than a gwayne/alicent fic I realised as I kept writing it, but here it is! And yes, I quoted Bridgerton.

You were soaking in bliss.

One of her hands cupped your cheeks, her thumb lazily running circles around them as her other held your waist tightly. Like you would run away and never come back. She always did that, holding you in her grasp so closely, like she couldn't get close enough, as though you both could become one. Alicent Hightower, or rather, the queen, was unable to do anything under your touch, she went so weak and you didn't even know it.

You first met her after the tourneys, after your brother defeated the rogue prince. She had already seen your brother, but stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes fell on you, so beautiful as you talked with Criston inside the castle walls. Her chest bundling up with feelings that were improper and forbidden for a lady. Especially when it came to another one. After her unfortunate marriage, she did become close with your brother—but you? avoided as if you were the plague. To her, you were always a forbidden thing. Something she can never have.

Or rather never allow herself to have.

But after the infamous engagement night of princess Rhaenyra and ser Laenor, as she saved ser Criston, all she could think about was you. If your brother was banished or hanged, you would be heartbroken. And also, your reputation will also be ruined, she felt this need to protect you—to keep you close to her. And you would probably move away. Considering all of them, she saved the life of your brother.

Afterwards, she allowed herself to interact with you, convincing herself that it was only right that she gets to know his family after doing such a huge favour for him. Refusing to even the thought that it was all just an excuse to see you. And yet, she found herself staring at your lips as you spoke, having the urge to grab you and kiss them so strong it scared her. You scared her. All these things, these horrifying feelings she felt, how out of control her mind because at just your mere presence? well she could already imagine the look on her father. Of disgust.

Especially when Criston started talking to you about marriage, to have a lord from a suitable house be betrothed to you. He had thought Alicent would be thrilled about that idea as he proposed it, now that he had her favour. Little did he know she was nowhere near happy about it. You, who held her fragile heart in your hands without even knowing it, you, who made her skin shiver at even the mere thought of you—you, who was the bane of her existence yet the object of all her very desires. You.

How could she let anyone else steal you and your heart?

She let your brother on, avoiding the subject as long as she could. After all she was being selfish. You were probably nothing like her, you must fawn over knights and lords. Dream of marrying one. You would never share her— those absurd feelings she refused to ever acknowledge. There was no point in keeping you close to her. Until that night took place.

The night you kissed her.

You and her had been sitting in her bed in her private chambers, eating dinner and talking all the gossips about the castle. With you, she felt like a young girl she used to be with Rhaenyra. She had just put baby Helena to bed, well the maids did, but she watched. She never really knew how to take care of her children, when she felt like a child herself.

But with you, there was peace, happiness and a bubbling feeling in her chest. This was the sole moment between you and her, just alone in the comforts of her chamber. This felt oddly intimate to her, but she was sure it was nothing like that to you or any other ordinary lady who liked spending time with friends. She remembers it so well.

“And” you speak, barely able to control your laughter, “her baby looked quite like the Ser Arthur might I add, instead of her husband. She didn't even deny that when I asked.”

Alicent smiles, her chest bundling with joy at the sight of you laughing. She loved seeing you happy, the curve of your jaw and the lashes of your eyes, they were strangely so perfect. Everything about you aligned all so perfectly, she wondered if you even knew. If she herself even knew how much she craved you.

“Your grace?” she hears you speak out, snapping out of her momenterlly thoughts containing you, “are you listening?”

A frown appeared on her face. You had never called her by her name. Always so formal. She never objected since she felt the eyes of her father's little birds everywhere, and it would be inappropriate for one to think that the queen was giving a companion this much liberty. Especially when that companion just so happened to be a lady. But right now? this moment was just yours and hers.

“You can call me Alicent.” She says, a bare softness in her tone, “I tend to believe we are close friends now.

You formed an ‘oh’ shape in your lips, slowly and hesitantly nodding. She waited, to hear those words out of you. To see how her name would sound like from your mouth.

“Okay, Alicent.”

Gods, it was heaven. Her eyes widened, a quick hitch escaping her. You..said her name? and it sounded so sweet, so pure coming from you. Like she has just gotten something she didn't know she had been craving and aching for until now. If heaven existed, it was you for her.

She couldn't help herself before words came spilling out of her mouth, “Say it again.” your eyes widen, a bit overwhelmed and shook. It seemed she herself was surprised at her own request, but didn't convey any further. You gulped, unknowingly a shiver coming down your spine. This felt...close and personal. This felt forbidden.

“....Alicent.”

“Again.”

Your head looks up at her, “I.... Alicent?”You see her sigh, her chest heaving. You notice there's a bite of the stew you both ate a few minutes ago, on her lips. Without thinking, you reach out your hand, her breath hitches as your thumb brushes against her lower lip. You got caught in a haze, your thumb slowly lingering a bit longer than it should. Her eyes, brown and wide, stared at you with a look you couldn't quite figure out. All you knew was that your heart was beating faster than ever, moonlight striking on her beautiful face as the winds seemed to slow down. You did not know what came to you, when your head leaned in so close to her's, your foreheads touching.

And your lips softly brushed against hers.

It was slow at first, but you got the steady—ness you needed when she moved her lips against yours. That she did not pull away, with a disgusted look. If you had kissed her before she had gotten married, perhaps she would have. But at this moment? when she was mother to two and in a marriage with a man twice her age, she wouldn't let go of any chance of happiness. Of love. Of her truest desires. You. She grabbed your neck, pulling you even closer with a surprising desperation and ache. Humming quietly as she felt the taste of your lips, pink and rosemary. It was so, better, and softer compared to Viserys. It was everything she wanted. Needed.

After that day, she told you—or rather asked for you to stay by her side. That she'd make you one of her ladies—in—waiting. It was surprising, that Alicent wanted you all the time after the very moment you both shared. Because of the fact that she used to go to the sept every day after seeing you, praying to the gods for them to rid her of this feeling, this sin. The one she felt every time she saw you. But after that kiss? how could it be wrong if it felt all so right?

So you stayed. And she took it as a blessing. Took you as one. Because to her, you were.

And now there you are, tangled in each other after all these years. It had been a few weeks, since her husband's death. Yet she felt more free than ever before.

You had been laying beside her in her bed, only the sheets covering both your bodies. She turned to look at you, pupils expanding at the sight of you. Alicent nestled her face in the crook of your neck, as you felt a blush rise up your cheeks. This—even after all the chaos of the court and her children, this was heaven.

“Y/N?” you heard her muffled voice speak up, tilting your chin to get a better look.

“Hmm?”

She peaked her head up, the sunlight and its rays coming up to reflect on both of you, the morning was still early and it was her most favourite part of the day. Because you were there, wrapped up in her. Alicent's fingers traced up from your jaw to your cheeks and eventually settling on to caress your forehead and eye brows. She was always so attentive and gentle in how she took care of you, as if you were her most prized possession. She wondered how a breathing living soul could have this much power over her.

“I—” she hesitates, not because she's unsure but because she's afraid you are, “I love you.”

Your eyes blow wide open, lips parting. Of course, it was evident you both cared and lusted for each other, but love? you did feel a brewing in your chest every time you saw your brother looking at her with loving eyes, or her smiling at him in return. And perhaps a sick yet joyous feeling in your chest as she would kiss your cheek while baby Aegon or Aemond had been playing in your lap years ago. A swelling feeling of something you did know would only result in heartbreak.

She was the queen, the very queen of the seven kingdoms. While you came from a steward's house with no land or title to yourself.

And now she was telling you she shared your love? that she was in love with you? No. It couldn't happen. You were a woman, and so was she. Even if that boat sailed a long time ago, it still did not change the fact that this was wrong and frowned upon in so many ways. You could even be beheaded, hanged or much worse. Besides, she doesn't mean it. How could she? you were you, while she was everything. Even if she's saying it now, when she comes out of the daze, she'll regret every thing she said.

“I—no!” you get up, shrinking away from her embrace. Alicent follows your movement, a sudden fear and heartache in her eyes. “I..I can't do that.”

“Do what? Y/N, I'm sorry if I upsetted you—”

You interrupt her, harshly, “No!” your chest becomes heavy, breathing ragged. “You have no idea what you're saying and I...I will never share the same feelings.”

Suddenly you regret saying that, saying anything. Because she has a pool of tears forming in her eye lids.

You realise it is because of you. Of course that was a lie, you loved her more than you thought possible. Alicent Hightower had your heart the moment you had seen her, but now? You had possibly lost the best thing of your life. All because of insecurity. You just did not know how much you really did mess up, until it becomes too late. Hightowers don't let anyone get away with hurting them, you should have known that. Especially when another one was about to come in your life.

It had been a month and twelve days since you had not talked to Alicent.

So much had happened in that time. Aegon's son, Jahaerys, a baby, was executed while in his sleep. A period of mourning followed. She did not come to you once, instead being cold to her own son and preferring the company of your brother instead. You knew that when he was made the hand of the king, they both sitting together and even smiling at hallways.

Maybe you were being paranoid, but it was well deserved after what you had done.

However, the aftermath of the little boy's death, and speculation of it being Rhaenyra's hand, Aegon came to you. He knew you since he was a little baby, and saw you as a second mother. Perhaps you were more than Alicent was. He cried, confided how nobody in his council understands him—how his own mum doesn't acknowledge or understand his grief. You knew Alicent had a hard time with Aegon out of all her children, she saw him as all her failed dreams and ambitions. It was wrong. But you didn't blame her. You had seen what happened to her.

You offered him comfort, after what he had been through, it was the least you could offer. Also perhaps because you felt a tinge of guilt after everything that had happened with Alicent and you.

With Aemond, you adored the boy when he was a kid. He was sensitive and kind. That's what you loved the most about him. But, as years passed, with the driftmark incident and now, the stormlands one, he was completely unrecognisable. Cold, sharp and quiet. That's how he was. You did not know how to even approach him, he was smart, and everytime Alicent and you were in his presence, he was always watching attentively. Much like Otto. You did not want more reasons for Alicent to be angry with you any longer.

Much in your thoughts, you did not realise Criston speaking until he shook your arm. You snapped up to him, as he chuckles.

“Wish me luck?” he says, you are suddenly remembered where he was to go. Rook's rest with a pack of king's guards. You wanted him to be well, and alive, of course you did. Yet the small smile you gave couldn't help but be slightly forced.

“Of course,” your head lies low, biting your lip, “I wish you luck and for no harm to come to you, brother.”

Looking around, all the knights were either walking somewhere or getting their armour and suit dressed up. This could be dangerous as well as harming. Capturing rook's rest, the black queen might send one of her dragons. And Criston would be there to face the burn. Your chest tightened at the thought, you did not want your brother to be harmed let alone die.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her, Alicent walking towards your direction. Your breath hitches, looking upwards of an excuse to leave but it's too late; she's already in front of your brother. Not even glancing at you.

“Your grace” he greets, as you cursty in response. She didn't spare you a single look. A bitter taste in your mouth formed at that.

“Ser Criston” Alicent looks at him, a glint in her eyes “may the seven guide you, good knight. And lead you not into shadow and death.”

There's an unspoken tension between them, as you look back and forth in—between the two. It was eating you away, like a knot grew further. Was there something there? even the thought made you want to scream. He thanked her for her prayers, and she turned away. You thought that was the end of it, before he called out to her. Requesting that she grant him her favour. That her lord commander may go into battle with her blessings in her heart.

“What are you doing?” you quietly hissed.

Alicent did not do anything, but as she saw your reaction, perhaps that changed her mind. She had a very light smirk, as she walked towards him. Your eyes widened as she took out a hanky, letter A engraved on it. You saw the whole interaction, their hands touching as he received it with a smile. You were...you didn't know what you were. All you knew was that you'd vomit if you watched a second more. You turn away, tears bubbling in your eyes as you walked away. You didn't see where you were going, only that you needed to be as far away as possible.

Until you bumped into someone.

“For god's sake!” a man with an accent of old town yelps out.

He was a knight. He was handsome, tall and sluggish. Light brown haired just like Alicent. You looked down to see hightower symbol at the centre of his armour. It dawned on you, he was Gwayne Hightower. Otto Hightower's oldest son. He was Alicent's brother. What truly concerned you was that you noticed the freckles on his cheeks to nose, the alignment of his jaw and the colour of his eyes. He was quite gorgeous.

“I apologize, my lord. I did not know where I was heading.”

Gwayne looks you up and down, lips pursued in a thin line as though he was trying to figure you out. His head tilted, and somehow you found the act more attractive than you should.

“The mistake was mine, my lady. I should have seen it from a mile ago.” he says, quite charmingly, “Although I do wonder, I did not catch your name. You see it's daily you see a beautiful woman when you're heading to a battlefield.”

A giggle escapes you, not knowing a pair of eyes that were on you.

“Why thank you, my lord.”

You smile, a genuine one. “I am...well I'm..” you knew the hightowers were quite upset at the revelation of your brother being named hand. It was a revenge scheme against Otto, but you were happy he got the chance. If he were to find out you were a Cole, perhaps he won't like you. But, why were you worried whether he likes you or not? a turmoil forms in your head, hands coming over to clasp themselves. You started in the only way you believed would be appropriate.

“I would first like to apologise for the late dismissal of your father, the formal lord hand. He served three kings very well.” you clear your throat, “I know it must feel, well, surprising and sort of a tiny betrayal. My brother was the least expectant candidate for the role.”

His mouth opens at the realisation, lips parting. He looked like he wanted to speak his mind, but stopped. Nodding modestly.

“I appreciate your kind words, Lady Cole.” he didn't fail to mention the disappointment in his tone. Although, a mischievous glint in his eyes was still there. “I do not mean to be rude, but I did not expect you when I thought of Criston Cole's sister.” your eyes furrowed, a frown on your lips. “What did you expect, my lord?”

Your heart quickens as he smiles, he has a beautiful smile. You think.

“I did not expect her to be so....kind hearted and well mannered.”

“Well mannered?” you repeat.

He's quick to respond, “I only meant, you turned out to be much more to my liking than I expected. Perhaps more than I will ever find your brother. But do not tell him that, my lady.”

A laugh escapes your lips, unknown to the very eyes you were so familiar with watching the whole ordeal.

“I wouldn't dream of it, my lord.” your voice was a whisper, eyes brightened. Gwayne had a smile of his own, only disappearing when Alicent called out for him.

“I should take my leave, my lady. A pleasure talking to you.” you watch him nod politely, walking away where Criston and Alicent stood. Suddenly you realised the butterflies in your chest, how taken you were with him. This was bad, very much so. Even if it was only a mere attraction, and what you shared with Alicent was much more—this wasn't good at all.

The night was moonless, only the stars light to keep you company. You liked to walk in the halls of the castle at night time, with no other to judge or peer at. No sounds of hushed and loud whispers, handmaidens running here and there or guards at every center. This was peaceful. Some would say it wasn't secure or safe, but since you hadn't encountered any accidents yet, you did not see a reason to stop. Although the silence left opportunities for thoughts.

You wondered if Gwayne was married. He was a knight, swore an oath of chastity, so probably not. It did not matter to you, all you were was curious. After what happened to Jahaerys, and Alicent focusing on her own family. Her real one—the one she created. You could say you felt a bit left out, she had a whole family of her own, the royal family. While you were no more than her mistress. It felt like a slap to your face, like reality struck down at you with a thousand bolts. You will never be the apple of her eye, her entire focus. You will always be on the sidelines.

As you walked further into the castle, you did not notice a tail of footsteps following behind before it was too late. A hand grabbed your shoulder, slamming you against the wall with much force.

“Ouch!” you hissed in pain, and immediately look forward to who caused it. Your chest tightened, eyes widening. Alicent stood there with both hands on your shoulders.

She lunged in, her lips attaching yours. This was different, a surprise yelp out of you came out muffled. Alicent was desperate in the way she held your waist, her other hand trailing up your neck. She never did this, in a public place where anyone could see. Hell—you, both could die if anyone were to even walk in the same direction. She was bold, harsh and angry. You could feel that in her kiss. Yet there was just a tiny tenderness in the way she caressed the chin of your face.

You gasped as she pulled away, rage in her eyes, and a little something else too, “You were smiling at him like he was about to charm your dress off?” she scoffs, jealousy in her voice. You realised who she hinted at, Gwayne, her brother.

“I—” you're cut off by the sinking feeling of her lips on your neck, softly sucking at your sweet spot, earning a very quiet moan from you. Alicent knew every inch of your body like it was her's, every scar, every burn and every where she knew you would succumb to her mercy.

You hushed, pleading for her to stop as one could see both of you. She did not. Alicent was being unfair, and you knew that. But you could not let her get away with it, not after she had made you feel such burning pain as well. You push her away, just lightly, enough to send her stumbling back on her feet. Eyes red. She had been crying, you notice, now that you had finally seen her clearly. A ache settles in your heart at the realisation. But you shrug it off.

“You can't treat me like I'm your personal girl at a brothel!” you shout in a whisper, as she scoffs. A malice on her tongue, “Well, seeing you making such affections on my brother, perhaps you are no less than any woman who works there.”

Your eyes widened at her implication, shock coming up you. How could she say that? to call you a...whore? You didn't see if Alicent regretted it, you did not give her a chance to before speaking yourself out of pure anger.

“And what if I did have affections for your brother? he is a charming man.”

This wasn't particularly a lie, and that scared you. Just how much of a beautiful man he was, and the way you felt around him.

“What?” her face drops, and you feel just a little satisfaction at seeing that. You both were furious, and unwilling to step down. She gritted her teeth, opening her mouth to say something more cruel but you beat her to it. —“Besides,” you start, your voice bitter, “you yourself share quite some... fondness for my brother, don't you? so why does it matter?”

That made her go quiet. And your heart even dropped more. Did it mean your words held any truth? that she really has caught some feelings for him? You were uncomfortable, very at that. Now you wished you never went for a walk in the first place. How did she even know this? did she follow you? you did not know.

Her eyes softened, “Do you really believe that?”

Before you answered, she sealed your lips with another yearning kiss. Reluctant to pull away as her lips maintained just mildly in contact with your lower lip as she pulled a bit back.

“I only want you, I've only ever wanted you. Not Criston, or anyone else. You. I thought you would have known that by now.”

She was referring to the morning she said those words. When she told you she loved you. Your harsh words, her tears, you start to remember everything. A pang of guilt comes to your chest, all this time you were afraid. Not just of the world, and the consequences, but of her. Alicent Hightower was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, and she was a highborn, a lady, and eventually the queen. You were nowhere near compared to in terms of social class. A steward's daughter. You had always felt shame in that title. How could anyone love you? how could anyone as magnificent and enduring as Alicent love you? the queen of the seven kingdoms.

“I...” you breathe, unable to speak. It's either now or never. And you decide that Alicent Hightower is too deeply longed in your heart to lose.

“I love you.” Alicent's breath hitches at your sudden confession. Like she cannot breathe. She shakes her head, avoiding your eyes. “no you do not mean that. You can't, you're just saying that to ease my heart.”

You feel pain at her words, that she believed you did not love her. When in fact that's all you've been doing since you saw her. You take a hold of her shoulders, pushing her lips to yours. She gasps at the sudden act, but slowly her hands crept up your shoulders. A tear drops up on your cheek, you realise it's not yours. For the first time, neither of you care about the consequences. What would anyone say? the religion, family, society. You didn't care—not anymore, if you could hold her in your arms again and tell her just how much you love her. And neither did she.

Alicent releases an involuntary moan when your leg comes in between hers. Your knee shifting at her. She pulls away, looking for something. Staring directly into your eyes.

“You really, feel love for me?” she whispers, and you smile, pulling a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I always have. Before I even saw you. Your grace.”

She now has a smile of her own. Pulling you closer by your neck, “Well, then tell me again that you love me. It's your queen's order. And the punishment of rejecting it is fatal.”

You giggle at her words, “Oh is it?” she nods, a blush on both sides of her cheek. “Then how can I refuse? especially when I love you.” Alicent immediately kisses you before you could even finish the words. Hands coming up to cradle your face. This, this was love. You knew where it was going. And you were going to relish in it.

That night, you spend time in the queen's chambers. Filled with love and passion. And lust. You were always Alicent's soft spot. Her weakness, yet her power. And so was she yours. You know you love her. But, Gwayne Hightower? her brother. The thought of him brought dread to you, because of how much pleasure it brought. You didn't love him, but gods, you felt a great attraction towards him. Especially when he smiles. No, you couldn't do that. You had to distract yourself, spend more time with Alicent. The only time he did not come to your mind. Because if you didn't do that, and indulged in his thoughts, now that he was about to come back? well it would bring a great deal of trouble for you.

You knew Hightowers were always trouble.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑚:) 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛!

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mandarinmoons · 11 months ago

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ONE HUG is all i ask for 😭

i am incoherent when i cry. i need him to hold me in his arms while i sob just hold me close and listen to me tell him all my troubles and worries

can this count as a request? like they’re coworkers and something idk what happened on a case that triggered reader to just completely breakdown

hate to be dramatic (ha actually it’s my favorite thing to be) but i’d trust later seasons Spencer with my whole life and i’d be the most grateful girl in the world if you wrote this i swear i’d never take anything for granted again

no pressure though my ketty kat

thank you bbygirl 😔🙏

A suspect in your latest case had been arrested and you were the one asked to question him. During the interview the suspect managed to flip the script and started asking questions from you. You tried your best to keep a straight face and lead the conversation back to the interview, but some of the things he said struck a nerve with you and you excused yourself.

You walked out of the room, took a deep breath and quickly walked to a vacant office so that no one could see the tears pooling in your eyes.

Reaching an empty office you grabbed the handle with your shaky hands to open it, but alas it was locked. You kept trying to budge to see if it was possibly stuck, but it wasn’t.

A moment later you heard your name being called and you quickly wiped the tears from your eyes. Turning around you saw Spencer jog up to you and look at you worryingly.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I just needed a minute alone.”

“Your eyes are red.”

You looked down to hide your face, but that didn’t work with Spencer. He took your hand and guided you back to an empty office.

“What’s really going on?”

Knowing Spencer, he wouldn’t let you be until you told him what was wrong. It wasn’t the first time he pulled you aside when he noticed you looked a bit out of it and every time he was very sweet and understanding, so why hide it?

“Well the unsub, or well the guy we think is the unsub, he ended up turning the questions I asked him on me and um…” the tears gathered around your eyes again and your voice turned shaky.

Spencer’s protective instincts kicked in and immediately pulled you against his chest, one hand on the small of your back while the other one held your head.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

The tears rolled down your cheeks and sobs racked through your body as Spencer held you and comforted you, his hold on you getting stronger as your hands gripped his shirt.

Slowly but surely your cries calmed down but Spencer’s hold on you was still as firm as before, he wasn’t going to let you go until he knew you were alright.

As you rested your head on Spencer’s chest his hand ran through your hair, his touches feeling so feather light that you felt like you could fall asleep at any moment.

You looked up at him through your lashes and saw his eyes shining down on you, this man was always going to be concerned about you.

“Thanks Spence.”

Spencer smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, “Feeling any better?”

“A lot better yeah,” you nodded and lifted your head. Spencer’s hand still rested on your back, his thumb caressing it slightly making you feel goosebumps go up your arms.

“I’m going to take over the questioning. I don’t want you to get upset again.”

“Spencer, it's fine. I was just being emotional, I’ve-,”

“I do not want you to cry again,” Spencer’s jaw seemed tense and it looked like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, all you could do was nod and accept it.

Spencer brought you close again for a hug and this time it seemed more personal, his lips rested against your forehead and your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your chest when you felt him press a light kiss to it.

“Go rest at your desk now, I’ve got this.”

Both of you walked out of the office and Spencer took you to your desk, making sure that you were sitting and not going back to do the interview. He looked back at you while walking away and you felt your heart stop again.

Half an hour later Spencer walked out of the interrogation room and announced that the man had confessed and he’d been arrested. His first thought was to come over and check up on you so he strode through the halls to find you still sat at your desk.

“How’d it go?”

“He confessed.”

“That’s good,” Spencer nodded and walked over to you.

“Your cheeks are still a bit red.”

“Yeah, they’ll go away soon don’t worry,” you chuckled and seeing you smile made Spencer smile as well.

Your eyes met for a moment but it was cut short by Spencer clearing his throat.

“I should go, I have some paperwork to finish up,” Spencer was about to turn around, but you took a hold of his hand before he had a chance to.

“Thanks again, I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.”

You both shared a smile and Spencer moved on to his work, unbeknownst to you that he was hiding a smile and slightly flushed cheeks on the walk back to his desk.

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willowsnook · 5 months ago

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Hi,could I request a vodka, lemonade in a wine glass pls and ty?

Btw i am OBSESSED with you're writing

i love u

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carlos sainz x norris!sister

it's always been you

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When your brother Lando was a rookie in F1, you were lucky enough to travel with him to all of his races, taking advantage of your gap year. You’d always been close, so he practically begged you to make the trip each race. Not that you minded; growing up watching him race, you’d come to love the sport yourself.

What you hadn’t expected, though, was how much you’d grow to like his teammate, Carlos.

First of all, the man was drop-dead gorgeous. You could get lost in those deep brown eyes. He was always kind and thoughtful, including you in conversations and going out of his way to make you feel welcome.

It felt like a harmless schoolyard crush at first—he was six years older, after all, and your brother’s teammate. But over that season, it became a little more than that. You saw him less when you went back to school, especially after he made the switch to Ferrari, but the feelings always bubbled up whenever you crossed paths. Every time he pulled you into a big hug, his hands lingering on your lower back, and your heart raced. And he kept up with you, always asking about your studies and your new job, his eyes warm and attentive.

Lando had noticed the way his friend looked at you. It amused him, mostly because Carlos would go out of his way to dodge the topic whenever it came up. Despite his protectiveness, Lando trusted Carlos, and honestly, he was rooting for something to happen.

You’d flown to Monaco at Lando’s request for his housewarming party, which, knowing him, was more about having an excuse to throw a party than showing off his new condo.

Hours into the night, you found yourself on the patio with Alex and a few other drivers, the group deep into the latest fake rumors circulating about Oscar potentially going to Red Bull.

“Man, I don’t even know how they come up with this stuff,” Oscar said, nursing a beer.

“If you left, then Carlos could take your seat and return to his one true love,” Charles said drunkenly, his face flushed from the drinks. Lando laughed, looking over at Carlos, who rolled his eyes.

“Miss me that much, huh?” Lando teased, and Carlos grinned.

“Wrong Norris, bud,” Charles corrected, and the group fell silent. You froze, looking at Charles, thinking you must’ve misheard, but he pressed on.

“Do you think she’ll be in the paddock today, Charles?” he continued, mimicking Carlos’s voice. “What do you think Lando would say?”

Carlos immediately lunged across the table, clapping a hand over Charles’s mouth, and Lando burst out laughing. You felt your cheeks heat up, your heart racing, while Alex shot you a knowing smirk. Was it possible that Carlos actually felt the same way about you?

The conversation drifted on, but Carlos had slipped away inside, leaving Lando waggling his eyebrows at you. After an excuse to grab another drink, you went to find Carlos.

He was leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping a beer, looking deep in thought. You stepped up in front of him, his gaze dropping to meet yours with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Hi,” you said softly, suddenly shy.

“Hi,” he replied, clearing his throat. He hesitated, glancing around, before he looked back at you with a gentle smile. “I… well, I’m sorry for how that just came out.”

Carlos smiled nervously, setting his beer on the counter, his eyes darting from yours to the floor. You took a steadying breath and decided it was now or never.

“Was Charles just… drunk? Or did he actually mean what he said?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Carlos’s blush deepened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Maybe I haven’t been as subtle as I thought,” he murmured with a shy smile.

Your heart skipped a beat as you took a step closer, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “So… all this time?”

Carlos nodded, his eyes now searching yours, his voice low. “Since the day I met you. It’s always been you.”

A warmth spread through your chest as the words settled in. You’d dreamed of this moment, but hearing it from him made it all the more real. Gathering your courage, you reached up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. “Well, it’s always been you for me, too.”

Carlos’s face lit up as he closed the small distance between you, his hand resting on your waist as he leaned in. The kiss was soft, lingering, filled with everything left unsaid over the years

“Finally,” he whispered, chuckling softly.

Just then, Lando poked his head into the kitchen with a knowing grin. “So, should I go thank Charles for finally spilling the beans, or are you two going to pretend this never happened?”

Carlos groaned, rolling his eyes, but you just laughed, squeezing his hand.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz

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sweetbans29 · 11 months ago

Text

Teach Me: The Ask (i) - PB

Pairing: Paige Buecker x Reader

Next Part

Summary: You and Paige have been best friends for the last 6 years. You trust her completely. And it is because of that trust that you ask her a rather forward question. AKA - You ask Paige to teach you.

Warnings: best friend vulnerability, smitten Paige

Word Count: 3.5k

Teach Me Masterlist & Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Let's do this.

It's a Tuesday afternoon when a girl from your chem class asks you out. The two of you had been talking for the past few weeks and you had gotten a vibe - at least were hoping you were getting a vibe. Turns out, you were correct. She asked you to go out that Friday night.

You are literally over the moon. Truth be told, you were never one to date in high school or the beginning of college for that matter. The high school thing never really bugged you, but once you got to college and saw how much fun your friends were having hooking up, and sort of felt like you were missing out. It was always something that lingered in the back of your mind.

The thing that always scared you was your lack of knowledge. You had never done anything sexual. You hadn't even had your first real kiss yet, talk about embarrassing. I mean you kissed Jacob in middle school spin the bottle but never counted it because it was when you learned you didn't like boys.

But now that all that is changing. Not like you are going to treat your chem date as one of the girls your friends bring home, but you also don't want to be completely clueless as to what to do if it does ever go there.

The now excitement turns into fear as you run through all the possibilities of how your inexperience could end something that hasn't even begun. In your irrational thinking, there is only one person who you can think of that could help you.

Paige Bueckers and you met in high school. Your dad was the high school girls' basketball coach, where Paige played during regular season all four years. You knew everything your dad knew about the game and were often his assistant coach even though you were also still in school. Nobody understood why you didn't continue playing after middle school and you honestly never really talked about it. All they knew was that your knowledge of the game was something that could take you places.

You were instantly impressed by Paige when she made the varsity team her freshman year. Your dad led a pretty excellent program for high school which caused families to move to your hometown to have their daughters play for him. He was also on the board of a club program which usually kept him pretty busy and you as you were always with him.

Paige was a player your dad had been following since she started middle school and playing at the club. You also had an eye on her and were impressed by how refined her skills were. So when she came and tried out for the high school team, she was tough to place. You thought she should have been on JV for a year before stepping up into varsity but your dad argued a good case as to why she should be on varsity.

She was one of 4 girls in your dad's career who had come in as a freshman and made varsity.

Paige and you actually butted heads during both of your freshman years. You would try and coach her and she would dismiss you immediately - only listening to your dad. I mean you couldn't really blame her, you were the same age as her trying to tell her how to be better at a sport you didn't play anymore.

It wasn't until the end of the season your guy's freshman year that she saw the value in you. It was during the State Class Tournament when the team was down by 10 in the last quarter and you were coaching the offense while your dad was coaching on defense. It was then that she truly saw your knowledge of the game and how you weren't just pulling stuff out of your ass.

The team won the championship - your first time and your dad's like 12th. It was after that game, while everyone was celebrating that Paige came up to you and apologized for being so dismissive all season. You told her not to sweat it and the rest is history.

The two of you became best friends sophomore year of high school. It was easy as you were a part of the team but not a player and Paige appreciated having a friend who didn't share the court with her - I mean you shared the court with her but in a completely different capacity. The two of you worked extremely well together when it came to the game and found out that you also enjoyed each other's company outside of the gym. It was like you two had an unspoken language and were able to communicate without anyone hearing a word.

Your friendship only continued to grow over the years. You became Paige's right hand when it came to playing ball - you knew the way she played like the back of your hand. You could tell her where she had gone wrong or where she could improve before she even made a move. When she committed to UConn, you knew that would be where you go. Your dad approved and you knew you could continue learning the game.

During your freshman year, you and Paige dormed together. You continued to watch her game and help her become a better player at a college level. You also got super close with her team. You fit in perfectly. For most of the time, that wasn't an issue - hanging out with the girls and spending time with them. The only time it became an issue is when you see them more than Paige. You love your best friend, but there are times when she gets a little territorial.

The first time you noticed this was in high school, it only happened once or twice but it was bad.

There was this one time during club season (about a year into your friendship) when you had gone to a tournament with your dad. Paige was playing and she knew you were going to be there. Granted, before the tourney you had told her you were going to be scooping out players with your dad. She knew you weren't there to watch her play.

As the day progressed, so did her game. She kept missing shots and couldn't get out of her head. And to top it all off - you were nowhere in sight. Paige knew that whenever she was off, you would be there to tell her exactly how she could fix it, even if it was just a knock upside her head to tell her to stop overthinking.

When she would have a moment, her eyes would scan the crowd for you but she could never find you. The frustration started to build up in her that by the end of the tournament, she didn't make a beeline to you (not that she knew where you were) rather just went straight home.

When you and your dad were finished, you looked at Paige's location on Find My Friends and noticed she was already home. Your heart sank a little seeing as she did come find you but shake it off.

A day passes and you hear nothing from Paige. Typically you wake up to a minimum of 3-4 notifications from her, whether it be texts, missed calls, or some video or meme she has sent. The next morning there was nothing.

You try and give her a call but no answer.

It is about 10am now and still nothing from Paige. You see she is at home and decide to make your way there. When you get there her dad is out working in the garage and greets you. He lets you know Paige has been out back working on her shot all morning. YOu thank him and make your way out to your best friend.

When you walk out she is locked in on a shooting drill. You stand there and watch her - already seeing what you had seen yesterday. You weren't able to watch full games for your best friend but every chance you got, you would sneak over to see how she was doing. You knew she was off and how she could adjust but every time you had an opportunity to go talk to her, your dad needed you with him.

"You're pulling your shot - your elbow and wrist aren't aligned. You lose it a second before your release causing you to shift right." You say to the girl who keeps missing about half of her shots.

Paige wants so badly to look at you and say she needed you yesterday but she still boils with an unknown anger. She says nothing.

"Paige, what's going on?" You ask when she doesn't respond - you even used her first name, and you never used her first name. Still no response from your stubborn friend as she goes up for another shot - missing it. You have seen enough.

You walk up to her, take the ball, and throw it into the yard. If she wants to play this game, she needs to know that 2 can play.

"What the hell?" She yells, finally looking at you.

Her look says more than you imagined it would. At first, all you see is the anger that she has been holding for the past 24 hours. But as you both stand there just staring at one another, you begin to see the hurt that lies behind it maybe even a hint of jealousy. There is something else in her eye but you can't quite pinpoint that one yet.

Your eyes soften as you look at the blonde in front of you, waiting for her to take the lead. You are wholeheartedly expecting her to yell at you for something you still have no idea about. And you're ready to give it right back to her.

The yelling never comes as Paige finally breaks eye contact with you and looks down.

"You weren't there." Is all Paige says. She continues to look down and behind picking at one of the nails.

"What are you talking about B?" You ask, needing her to be more specific.

"I needed you and you weren't there," she says again. You wrack your brain for what she could possibly be talking about when it clicks. Even though you saw what her issue was yesterday - you never corrected her during the game.

"That's what this is about?" You ask, your heart breaking slightly from the sight of your best friend's vulnerability. You see a switch in her flip and know you are about to get feisty Paige.

"You were at the tournament for the entire day and didn't come over to watch me for a second! That single-handedly was one of my worst tournaments and couldn't figure out what was going wrong. The day just kept getting worse. I would scan the crowd for you and you were nowhere in sight, off at some other court watching some other girl that wasn't me." She whispered the last part to herself more than you.

You wait a second, processing what she is saying and waiting to see if there is going to be anything else. When nothing else comes, you speak.

"During game three, is when you started pulling your shot. It started when no.15 from the other team fouled you midshot and you fell to the ground. That is why you missed your first free throw. Your next game was even worse - that is when you started getting in your head. Your shooting percentage was down 20% and you couldn't shake it because you were fully in your head at that point. Game 5 was the worst of them all because you had just given up on yourself. Your shot was all over the place as you were trying to adjust every single one you took. I was there P, you just couldn't see me." You say with a matter-of-fact tone.

"And it is my job to watch other athletes! You know this! That is why I started watching you," you finish looking at your best friend.

"You saw?" Paige asks.

"Of course, I saw B, you're my girl," You say using her nickname. Everyone always calls Paige either by her name or first initial. You, on the other hand, call her by her last initial. You are the only one she allows to call her by it. It started when you would only call her by her last name freshman year, never using her first name and it drove her crazy. When the two of you became best friends, you shortened it to B. She didn't know how she felt about it until you mentioned it you liked it because no one else called her that and you wanted a special nickname that only you use. Hence, her shooting daggers at anyone else who tries to call her by your nickname.

Paige's heart tugs when she hears you call her 'your girl'. That's all she really wants but values you too much to make any sort of move. She has come to terms that a friendship is all the two of you will ever have and is okay with that knowing you will always be there. But it is in moments like this that she wants more for the two of you.

She waddles over to you. You open your arms to embrace her. She walks into your arms and you hug her, she doesn't hug you back but stands there like a child with her head in your neck.

That night you spend the night at her house. The two of you have a movie night and Paige falls asleep to She's the Man and you stoking her hair.

You are running back to your apartment to see if Paige is around and find your apartment filled with girls from the team. They are all doing an IG live. You smile at the girls before you and know you need to wait to talk to Paige. You quietly make your way to your room but don't go completely unnoticed.

As you are making your way over, Paige's arm reaches back and squeezes your knee. You give her a smile and run your hands through her hair.

She lets out a little moan, not loud enough for anyone to hear except herself.

You are grateful you are covered by Azzi and another girl. There have been several times the two of you have had to mitigate dating rumors and didn't want to deal with that tonight. You head back to your room and lay on your bed scrolling through IG, waiting for the girls to finish up.

It also gives you time to think through how you want to approach talking to Paige. She is the only one you trust with something so intimate.

I mean not only is she your best friend, but since the two of you got to college she has been pretty active and I don't just mean playing ball. The two of you talked about her habits early on. She was allowed to bring girls home on weekends or after games and all you asked is that she didn't mention any details and that they were gone by the time you had to be up in the morning. Her sexual life never affected you. If you were honest, you were glad at least one of you was getting laid.

You hear the girls start saying their goodbyes and that is your cue that the live has ended and it is safe to make your way to tell them bye.

Making your way out, you head to the group. You say bye to all of them and they leave your apartment.

"How did it go?" You ask Paige as she grabs an apple and takes a bite.

"It was aight, they did a Q & A which was fun." She says as she wipes her bottom lip.

You start to feel nervous and begin fiddling with a paper on the counter.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" She asks noticing your nervousness. You give her a smile, always loving when she calls you pretty or any pet name really. It's endearing.

"I have to ask you something - and I don't really know how to ask it so I am just going to come out and ask," you say beginning to ramble. "You can say no, but I am only asking you because I know you and you know me and I trust you."

"Spit it out ma," she says going in for another bite of her apple.

"Willyoushowmehowtobeintimatewithagirl?" You say faster than you could breathe.

Paige chokes on her apple and begins to cough. She doesn't think she has heard you correctly.

"B, are you okay?" You ask patting her on the back. She takes a step away from you and you retreat a little yourself.

This was a bad idea, you think to yourself as you begin to feel embarrassed by the ask you have of your best friend.

"Repeat what you just said," she says, telling not asking. You open your mouth and she clarifies, "Slower this time."

You gulp, feeling even more nervous than before.

"Will you," you say with another gulp. "Will you show - teach me how to be intimate with a girl?"

Paige's mind is racing - almost as fast as her heart. She wants to say yes immediately but has done such a good job of hiding her feelings up to this point.

"You want me to show you how to fuck girls?" She asks bluntly.

You blush at her directness.

"Well that and more," you say. "You know, like what to do and what feels good. What girls like in bed and stuff but also like how to kiss and stuff." You can't look at her when you ask the last part.

Paige's head is now spinning and beginning to throb. And trust me when I say her head is not the only thing that is beginning to throb.

You begin to feel like you are asking too much of your best friend.

"B, you are the only person I trust and you know I am a literal child when it comes to being intimate with someone. I would never ask anyone else because they don't know me like you do and I know this wouldn't change anything between us." You say.

Paige is now leaning on the counter with her head in her hands. She is just trying to get the image of you, laying out before her - exposed, out of her head before she takes you right here on the kitchen counter. Her skin is buzzing.

"Paige," you begin and her head whips up. You are too caught up in your own nervousness to notice how her pupils are dilated.

"Why now?" She asks.

"A girl from one of my classes asked me out on Friday and I want to be prepared for anything," you say slightly embarrassed.

Paige's heart fills with jealousy thinking about another girl taking you out and making you laugh. Thinking about her touching you and making you moan her name.

A fire begins to burn in Paige. She is in a complete internal battle with herself. Why would she show you how to make someone else feel good? But at the same time, she absolutely hates the idea of you with someone else and if she is your first - she would at least have that.

You touch her arm as Paige's skin feels like it just went up into a burning pile of flames. When did you get so close to her?

"If this makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to do it." You say looking deep into her eyes.

She could stare into your eyes forever. You really don't know the effect you have on her. Paige would move mountains for you. She would do anything to make you happy even if it caused her pain. She would give you her last breath if it meant she got to see you smile one last time. As much as she knows this is a bad idea, she knows how much it took for you to ask her. She knows how uncomfortable you get when someone hits on you in a bar or when someone gets too close. She knows your ask is genuine because you used her first name.

Paige takes a moment to gather all of her thoughts then takes your hand.

"I'll do it," is all she says before you jump in her arms. Her arms wrap around you and she inhales the scent of your shampoo.

"Thank you so much B! I promise to be the best student ever," you say as you give her a squeeze.

She doesn't say it, but that is exactly what Paige is afraid of - you being her best. You being her best but not hers.

AN: First part down! Let me know what you think! This series will be posted every Sunday until The End is posted. I hope you enjoyed it. And as always, thank you for your love and support 💙

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers imagine #uconn huskies #uconn #uconn wbb #paige bueckers masterlist #paige x reader #teach me series

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