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bucketbueckers · 10 days ago

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I'D RATHER PRETEND

CHAPTER TWO

tags: @angryflowerwitch @avvwritesstufff @melpthatsme @rebecca-woso @bueckersg1rl @l0verl4ne @clouded-whispers @dolliest-thena @katemartinlvr @numberonepartyanth3m @glamourdaya | lmk if you want to be added! wc: 7.6k notes: check masterlist for content warnings! honestly a pretty lowkey chap but it's strictly business 🧐 thank you for the love on chapter 1 🫶 i fear this chap and the next couple of parts are slow-ish but i've reread this literally a million times and im sick of it so what do i actually know. no beta we die like brian thompson

'Bueckers and Kennedy, Two Dynasties, Both Alike in Dignity'

College basketball fans are excited for what appears to be the end of the "Tess Kennedy Destruction Tour." After a quiet few days, the South Carolinian guard took to social media where she shared a photo of her and a faceless individual meeting for coffee. The Instagram story was captioned "and a new day will bring about the dawn," a lyric from Frank Ocean's "Sierra Leone." Supporters interpreted this as Kennedy's recovery journey taking a positive turn, but the song lyric was not the star of the show.

Fans were quick to point out the identity of the individual was not as hidden as it seemed. Kennedy's companion was wearing two notable necklaces - one with a silver cross and one with a studded #5. The phone case in camera was also purple with a wallet attached to the back. One commenter pointed out there was a University of Connecticut student ID poking out, and after review, we believe that much is true.

Early speculation declared Kennedy's friend was none other than Paige Bueckers, the star point guard for the University of Connecticut Huskies. Then, roughly an hour after Kennedy's post, Bueckers herself took to her Instagram where she shared a photo of her holding an icepack to someone's left knee. Both Bueckers and the mystery individual are faceless; however, fans noted Bueckers's companion was wearing a silver bracelet with familiar charms and a #25, Kennedy's jersey number.

All of the signs point to Bueckers and Kennedy spending time together, although nothing has been confirmed officially. One fan noted that Bueckers tore her own ACL the year prior, believing that Bueckers flew out to South Carolina to lend a supportive hand to Kennedy amidst her own recovery and hardships. Whether or not this is simply two friends rehabbing together or the most obvious soft launch in basketball history, sports fans are united on two things: Tess Kennedy is beginning to take her recovery seriously, and Paige Bueckers might just be the guardian angel people were calling for.

-Penelope Lancaster, Bleacher Report

MAY 3, 2023

“So, lemme get this straight.”

Tess hums around a mouthful of Chipotle, feeling lighter than she has in weeks. Kamilla and Bree returned to their apartment roughly a half hour earlier and immediately put Tess on the hot seat. Once she made it through her countless apologies and explanations with minimal interruptions, she gave Kam and Bree the green light to ask their questions, and it seemed as though they had plenty.

Kam raises her fingers as she lists off the recent happenings of Tess’s life. “Because you went off a bender–” Tess frowns at the way it’s phrased, “–Amaya is forcing you into mandatory PT, therapy, and a shit ton of PR. Honestly, about fucking time.” Bree snorts, although some of the worry leaves her body. “If all it took was tough love, I woulda been meaner to your ass a month ago.”

“Don’t think it would have had the intended effect,” Tess concedes thoughtfully. She pushes around her rice and chicken, shoveling a pepper in her mouth. “I wasn’t really in a listening mood back then.”

Bree raises a brow. “And you were today?”

The injured guard shrugs a shoulder. “Well, when your manager tells you that your brand deals are about to cut their contracts, and you’re at risk for losing your basketball scholarship for behavior and academic reasons, and you’re slowly killing yourself…that kind of puts things into perspective.”

Kamilla nods solemnly. “And the Paige situation.”

Tess almost flushes under their scrutinizing gaze. She hasn’t forgotten. She has Paige’s receipt tucked into the pocket of her pants, unwilling to throw it away but also feeling weirdly vulnerable for wanting to keep it. It wasn’t a huge gesture by any means. Paige doing PT with her was objectively more intimate than buying her lunch, but the mere idea of Paige saying goodbye to her and sitting in an Uber trying to figure out what Tess likes in her Chipotle bowl is just fucking insane. “Guess I’m not single anymore…so, yay?”

“You’re taking this a lot better than I expected,” Kamilla admits hesitantly. Tess clocks the concern in her expression, like she’s thinking about her next step if she wakes up tomorrow and Tess is back to her old ways. That thought alone makes guilt squeeze at Tess’s heart.

Tess sighs. “It was like a wake up call,” she says after a moment. “Like those stupid ice baths Coach makes us do in recovery.” Kamilla and Bree crack a small smile at the joke. “To me, it was just easier to self-destruct than to let something else kill me. Basketball’s more than a sport to me – it’s my purpose, right? So after I heard I might not be able to play again, I just…let myself sink. And, Christ, people were so cruel online.” Tess huffs out something like a laugh, her throat tight with pain. “It’s funny ‘cause it never bothered me before, but… I just wanted to forget. I wanted them to hurt like I hurt. It was too easy to give into that.” The silence rings out in the living room as Tess searches for her next words. “I don’t think all hope is lost. Today helped me understand that a little better. So, I’m gonna try. I’m just fucking terrified it’s all going to be for nothing, that my knee’s never going to get better and I’m going to put myself through so much pain for a what if.”

“Okay, what if you never play again, but, God, Tess, what if you do?” Kamilla says slowly. “What if you do everything right and you get better and you can play with us again in March? I want that for you. We want that for you. Do you want that for you?”

“I mean, of course–”

“Then do it!” Kamilla exclaims, voice cracking. Tess blinks at her owlishly. She’s never seen Kamilla like this, ever, wide-eyed and desperate. It’s a near 180 shift from the girl she’s spent the last 30 minutes talking to, a complete and total shift from the girl who she’s shared an apartment with for two years. “Please, Tess. Do the PT, your therapy, get back on track; whatever it fucking takes, Tess, you need to do it. We miss you. On and off the court. I know it’s not about me, but watching you throw yourself away like that was the worst thing I’d ever witnessed, especially because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get through to you. I thought I was going to lose my best friend!”

Tess’s jaw falls open as the sudden realization of how badly she’s fucked up dawns on her for the second time that day. “Kam,” she tries, her throat tightening with emotion. The taller woman wipes her eyes, taking in a shuddering breath. Kamilla was never one to be mean, no matter how upset she was – that was a trait of hers that made her such a good leader and role model on the court. She was big on accountability and ensuring that past mistakes would never happen again. Seeing all of the emotion she kept under tight lock and key because she knew she needed to be strong for Tess (even before Tess was aware that she needed someone to be strong for her) is unbelievably sobering.

When Tess and Kamilla first met, they almost instantly knew they would be each other’s best friend. They were alike in so many ways – they were fierce competitors and proud haters of The Office; they bonded over shared struggles of not quite knowing what home was and being just a little too different from everyone else. Tess isn’t sure where she would be without Kamilla. She always prayed she’d never have to find out, but the idea that she nearly subjected Kamilla to finding out where she’d be without Tess feels both arduous and damning.

“Kam,” Tess says again, her mind reeling. “I’m so sorry – I’m so fucking sorry. If I could do it all over again, I would. I’m trying. It’s so hard but I’m trying.”

“I know,” Kamilla says, nodding rapidly. Bree is unnaturally quiet, glancing between the two of them with a conflicted expression. Sure, the three of them shared an apartment, but the bond between Tess and Kamilla exceeded friendship; they were like sisters. Bree knew that and it never bothered her. Now it seems as though she’s unsure where to stand, but she understands that this is a much-needed conversation that Tess and Kamilla need to have. “I know, Tess, I’m just – I’m glad you understand it now. Just… please, please let us help you. Don’t shut us out.”

“I won’t,” Tess vows. “I can’t promise I’m going to be at 100%, but fuck, I’m going to try.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Kamilla concedes.

The living room is quiet for a long while until Bree shifts uncomfortably. “So… PT and mental health counseling, those I understand,” she says. “I’m still a little lost on why fake dating Paige is good for your reputation. Rumors are rumors but…it’s giving new flavor of the week.”

“It’s not like that,” Tess argues, a little too defensively. Bree raises a brow and Tess immediately flushes. She’s not sure why that jab at Paige felt personal. She made a similar jab only a few hours ago. But it wasn’t her business to judge. People have their own reasons to do what they do, right? “Well, she said it wasn’t like that,” she amends, which sounds objectively worse. Tess frowns, wishing she’d just kept quiet.

“Hey, I’m just saying.” Bree raises her hand in surrender. “It’s her vice, right? Her free time is her own, but I mean, she’s Paige Bueckers. It’s easy to get caught up in her. I just don’t want you becoming another notch on her bedpost, even if you’re just fake dating her to make people forget you’re on Twitter restriction.”

Tess wrinkles her nose. “My account is unbanned now, thank you very much,” she deflects, but Kamilla’s knowing expression has her redirecting. “I understand what you guys mean, but you don’t have to worry about that. We’re strictly business.” Bree grins wryly, huffing out something akin to laughter that sounds vaguely like, ‘that’s what they all say.’

“Was the Chipotle strictly business?” Bree asks.

Tess’s face is a perfect picture of confusion, but her heart thrums a little faster at the insinuation. What could she possibly know about that? “What does Chipotle have to do with anything?” she asks casually.

Bree’s smirk widens. “You never order bowls. It’s always a burrito with you.”

“I’m trying something new!”

“Yeah, new like a six-foot blonde hooper–”

Kamilla and Bree break out into howling laughter as Tess buries her head in her hands, blushing again. “Oh, my God. You guys are the fucking worst.”

And, sure – the joke is at Tess’s expense, but she can’t help but feel like everything is aligning once more, that they’re returning to the way they once were pre-injury. She expected that it would have taken her a lot more groveling to earn back their favor. Tess was a huge jerk to them – the more she thinks about what she’d likely said to them under the haze of several shots of tequila, the more she wishes she could take it all back and do it over again. She tore her ACL, a season ending injury for many athletes, and for a smaller few, it changed the course of their careers drastically. Tess wants to find it within herself to have some grace, to understand why she behaved the way she did, but now that she sees it with a clearer mind, she can’t help but be disgusted by herself.

For Kamilla and Bree, it’s probably all water under the bridge. They’re kind people like that, perhaps too kind after the way Tess treated them. Maybe the real gotcha! moment is the idea that Tess didn’t need to earn back their favor, anyhow. Sometimes friendship just works like that – it’s confusing and a great risk, but most times that risk pays off. Sometimes friendship just is, accepting a mistake and trusting that it wouldn’t happen again.

Feeling lighter than she has in weeks, Tess retires to her room for some much needed rest after a long day. She lights a candle, settling against her headboard and adjusting the pillow cushioning her knee. Deciding to face the music sooner rather than later, she begins combing through her mountain of notifications and unread DMs. The apology from Caitlin is touching. Tess feels an odd mix of guilt and appreciation as she drafts out her overdue response: “thank you for checking in, been a rough couple weeks. the injury is not your fault but trust that SC will pick your pockets next year!!!” Caitlin’s own response is swift – a simple 'Bring it on' that Tess can’t help but smile at.

She sends similar responses to some of Caitlin’s teammates and the other college players who reached out. She even had a couple of pros expressing their condolences, which honestly shocked Tess. There was Napheesa Collier, Sabrina Ionescu, and A’ja Wilson – A’ja’s DM made Tess’s Gamecock heart beat just a little faster. She was basically South Carolina royalty. Having that kind of support in her corner fills her with an insurmountable confidence.

Her last post on Instagram was a collection of pictures following their Elite Eight win. The sight of herself from a month ago, healthy and glowing, nearly made her thumb falter as she flicked through the images. It was a simple dump – a couple of action shots, a fierce one of Tess celebrating, one of her setting up for a deep three. It was captioned “nowhere else i’d rather be.” That much was still true. She’s pushed it to the recesses of her mind, but instinctually, she can feel the deep ache and the yearn to get back on the court, even though her knee hardly lets her sleep through the night most of the time.

Her eyes fall to the comments. She knows she shouldn’t look at them. She’s practically memorized each and every single one of them. Her teammates’ comments live at the top, celebrating the win with her; under them, there are newer ones from South Carolina fans, offering prayers and support, confident in their belief that Tess will bounce back from this. She can’t help herself from reading the hate comments, either. Her eyes catch on one in particular. Their username isn’t particularly memorable, but it reads, ‘Upsetting to see how Tess has responded to a normal injury for athletes. It’s shameful that South Carolina has let this go on for so long. Grow up!’

Well, he’s not wrong. Tess’s response was a pretty terrible one and Amaya herself admitted that they made a mistake in handling the situation. Frankly, he should be proud that Tess has grown up! If she read that comment a week ago, she probably would have crashed out. The thought alone makes Tess crack the slightest of smiles. Before she can keep reading, a text message from an unknown number pops up at the top of her screen, inadvertently saving her from a doom scroll.

Yo How’d I do on lunch? It’s Paige btw

Tess fights the warmth she feels in her chest. Honestly, she would have guessed that it was Paige from the ego she can identify through the screen alone, but she saves her contact regardless.

i’m afraid to admit i prefer burritos but the bowl was a 9/10

Paige’s response is swift.

9 cause I’m the 1 you need?

Tess rolls her eyes.

9 bc there was too much pico and bc the girl who ordered it flirts like a 12 year old

That’s insane You KNOW I have better game than that

you have no rizz, just blue eyes and a bunch of nil money like joe burrow if he was a hey mamas lesbian

Gonna ignore that hey mamas comment just cause I fuck with Joe Burrow The Bengals don’t have nothing on my Vikings though

i think i just got the ick im not gonna lie

Are you a football hater???

i don’t watch men’s sports at all i try to protect my peace

Pause So no Lebron???

ok well obviously i’ve watched the NBA

You scared me Don’t say that shit again

why are you so high maintenance

Why are you so mean

someone has to keep you in check settling down, remember?

I think you could be a little nicer!

hmmm i’ll consider ok i decided no

Just plain evil

i need to get my kicks in early if im stuck with you again on friday

You invited me???

i don’t think that’s how that happened

Pretty sure that’s exactly how that happened Paige please come to PT with me 🥺 Please Paige

ok now you’re just being delusional i see how you’re forgetting the whole ‘tess let me buy your coffee 🥺please tess’

Chilllll Did your doctor check you for a concussion after the ACL?? There’s something wrong with your brain

be honest, are you a natural blonde or did you work really hard to be this stupid

Hard work always baby Also, wanted to ask if you wanna come to the airport with me on Saturday, be seen together I fly out at 11:30am so I think it would be good for us The story I mean

you gonna pay for my uber back?

Duh

paige i was kidding

I wasn’t No rizz, just blue eyes and a lot of NIL money, right?

you’re insufferable

So you’ll come?

don’t sound so excited but i will for the story

Of course See you Friday ma 🫶

Tess likes Paige’s message before shutting her phone off with a sigh. She needs a nap.

MAY 5, 2023

Friday arrives after a day and a half of binging 2 Broke Girls, independent physical therapy exercises, and lots of ice packs.

Tess slept like shit Thursday night, though she’s unsure if it’s because of the pain in her knee or because of how badly she wanted to haul her ass to the bar and order a couple of shots to numb the throb. She knew she couldn’t do it, no matter how much she thought she needed it – it was bad enough that she spent half of the night sweating through her shirt and chewing on ice cubes to distract herself from the slow downward spiral of her thoughts. Not addicted, she’d remind herself, nursing a cup with rapidly melting ice as she watched Max and Caroline put themselves in weird ass situations. Psychologically, no. Physically…who knows. Tess certainly doesn’t know what that means, but she’s not addicted, period.

Her first therapy appointment was scheduled for Monday afternoon. She just had to hold out until then. Tess hopes that she would glean something useful from her counselor, but she’s been self aware and independent enough for years that she’s usually good at identifying her problems, though slightly less efficient at figuring out what to do about them. Her typical coping methods included a casual mantra of, ‘Pitbull’s been there, done that,’ and running a couple of drills in the quiet of the gym. And, sure – it sounds weird, but the idea that she’s not the only person facing an issue is comforting enough that she wonders if it’s even that deep. It works most of the time and she’s able to shrug it off. She will admit there’s an eventual crash out one way or the other, but she prefers one big explosion over a series of small, ill-timed ones.

With nothing but time on Thursday night, her Google search history consisted of queries such as how long does it take to establish alcohol dependence and symptoms of alcohol withdrawals. Then, around 3am, she got distracted and switched over to TikTok where she scrolled through edits of herself, but that’s less important. She learned that establishing alcohol dependence usually varies from person to person (Tess hates when something ‘depends;’ why can’t there ever be a straight answer?). It’s less clear if she’s officially ‘addicted,’ but she will concede that after a month of heavy drinking, there’s a little something there. Which isn’t ideal, of course, but hopefully it’s mild at the least. It was only a month and people intervened early…ish – maybe if she sticks to recovery then she should be good and clear within a couple weeks at the most.

Google also informed her of the several symptoms of withdrawals, which usually set in anywhere from six to twenty-four hours after going cold-turkey on the drinks. The withdrawals explained, obviously, the need to ransack the liquor store, but also the restlessness, the slight headache she was nursing for the past twenty-four hours, and the perpetual stomach ache she couldn’t seem to get rid of.

She had some answers. So, things were looking up!

…At least they were until she got the call from Amaya at 9:30 as she was struggling to eat a bagel. Google also mentioned a loss of appetite, which Tess was less than happy about. Much like everything else about her recovery, she would have to force herself into doing a lot of things that her body didn’t want her to do. She’d get used to it. She lets her phone ring for a short moment before she sighs, accepting the call and putting it on speaker, greeting Amaya.

“Good morning, Tess!” Amaya chirps, unusually chipper. The basketball player immediately frowns, brows furrowing.

“You get laid?” she asks, unsure of what else Amaya could be happy about in her life.

She can almost hear Amaya’s eye roll from across the line. “No, not that it’s any of your business, though.”

“Boo.”

“Anyways, back to business.” Amaya clears her throat. Tess can hear the slight shuffle of papers. “So, I really liked what you and Paige did, soft-launch wise. The press is eating it up and so far, both of your brand deals are seeing a slight surge in activity. I’m guessing people are flocking to your accounts for raunchy details and seeing you advertise, um, really cool make up products and homework help.” Tess huffs out a laugh at that. “Good job. Also, Craig let me know you showed up to PT as scheduled on Wednesday and did really well. He said you and Paige worked really well together–”

“Stop,” Tess says, listening to the sound of Amaya’s smug laugh. “Don’t insinuate anything.”

“I’m not insinuating anything!” Amaya says defensively and Tess cracks a smile. “So, we just need you and Paige to keep up what you’re doing. Do the small things for a couple of weeks, then hard-launch. We’re going to give you guys most of the control over that. We want it to seem more authentic and less like two PR agencies trying to salvage their clients’ images.”

“Of course,” Tess says innocently. “She’s coming to PT today. Then I’m going with her to the airport tomorrow.”

Amaya sighs dreamily. “You’re such a wonder to work with when you’re being cooperative.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Tess grumbles, giving up on the bagel and tossing it in the trash.

“Alright, one more thing,” Amaya continues, “then I’ll let you go.” Tess hums. “I need you to draft an apology to post on your socials – and I know, it sounds corny, but–”

“You don’t need to explain why,” Tess interrupts softly. “I got it. I fucked up and I made a huge mess. I’ll email that to you Saturday night.”

Amaya is quiet for a moment, contemplative. “Thank you, Tess. And, hey, how are you feeling?”

Tess doesn’t answer for a beat, considering keeping her thoughts to herself, but she reminds her promise to Kamilla to not shut anyone out, so she sighs. “Um, not gonna lie, I didn’t sleep at all last night,” she admits. “My knee hurt and I really wanted to drink – but I didn’t! I binge watched TV and ate ice cubes. Probably not the best thing I could have done but it was all I had to work with.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Amaya says gently. “It’s gonna be hard for a while, especially when your injury is still new and fresh and you’re all over the place mentally. I’m proud of how you handled it, even if you think you could have done better. Don’t forget you can call that counselor, okay? She’s available at all hours for you.”

“I don’t wanna be a bother–”

“It’s her job,” Amaya states, before adding in a more mother-hen tone, “but she also requested to work with you specifically because this issue is close to her and she really wants to help you. So if you need help, call her. Got it?”

Tess blinks back the impending tears. “Yeah. Got it.”

“Listen, I’m proud of you, I mean it,” Amaya reiterates. “Thank you for being patient and doing this. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Tess says again. “Talk to you soon.”

Amaya hangs up with one final goodbye. Tess presses her head to the cool counter tile and takes a deep breath. She hardly has the time to think before a knock sounds at the apartment door. Already knowing it was Paige, Tess wipes her eyes and slips her crutches under her arms as she slinks towards the door and opens it.

“Mornin!’” Paige greets, far too cheery for barely ten in the morning. She’s holding two cups of coffee in her hands. When Tess glances down, she easily recognizes her coffee order. Then, a frown covers Paige’s face as she walks in and shuts the door behind her. “You good, ma?”

“Just a tough conversation with Amaya,” Tess says as Paige hands her the drink. She takes a long sip, feeling a little more regulated. “Too many feelings.”

Paige smirks at her. “I’m guessin’ she said the same shit my manager called for? ‘Keep up the good work and keep doing couple-y stuff?’”

Tess hums. “More or less. Oh, I also get to publicly apologize, so there’s that.”

The blonde raises a brow as Tess hands back the coffee cup so she can slip into her shoes. “You? Apologize?”

Tess swats her with her crutch, drawing laughter from Paige. “You’re such a jerk. I apologized to you on Wednesday!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you called me a whore,” Paige says with a dramatic pout. “Really hurt my women-respecting feelings.”

“Please walk me to PT and stop talking.”

And Paige does just that. She holds onto both of their coffees as they walk as Tess’s hands are otherwise preoccupied with her crutches. The silence doesn’t last too long before Paige is rambling about all of the questioning she’s getting from her teammates, and Tess can’t help but listen – correction, she has no other choice but to. Paige admits that she doesn’t like keeping secrets from her team, and Tess feels sympathetic enough that she gives Paige the go-ahead to confess their little ruse. Paige’s denial, however, is shockingly mature. “I trust them not to say sum’ maliciously, right? But you never know who’s listening.”

Tess shrugs a shoulder. “If you change your mind, go for it, okay?” she says. “This is our punishment. Don’t wanna fuck up your friendships.”

“S’all good,” Paige says. “Actually, they’re pretty happy about it. Aubrey thinks I’ll play better next season since I ‘got a girl.’”

Tess snorts. “Yeah, you’ll play better until March, then I’ll get cleared to be back on the court and I’ll drop 25 on you.”

Paige wrinkles her nose. “No way, ma. Try 2-point-5. As in 2.5 turnovers every time I guard you.”

Their banter continues until they reach the PT’s office. Craig greets them with an infectious grin and Tess immediately brightens. He helps her take the brace off of her leg and rolls up her pant leg, poking and prodding at her injury. After just a day and a half of actual care, much of the inflammation has reduced.

Craig walks her through some guided exercises, and much to Tess’s silent appreciation, Paige joins them, too. She has a charming smile on her face the entire time, tacking on ridiculous jokes at the absolute worst moments when Tess is out of breath from the stretch and when laughing feels like gasping for air. Paige is strangely helpful. She boosts both Tess’s morale, comforting her in the fact she’s not doing this alone, but she also has a plethora of tips on how to manage the pain and get a better stretch on the exercises. Her hands are warm on Tess’s knee when she adjusts her leg and the way it bends. Craig looks on with an approving nod, though he jokes that Paige is coming for his job, to which Paige huffs, “Tess don’t listen to me.” Tess can only roll her eyes at that, pretending like she doesn’t care about the way Paige’s hands massage the tension out of her leg.

When Craig steps out to grab his wrapping supplies, Paige stretches out her legs and reaches for her phone. “For the gram?” she asks easily, glancing at Tess for permission.

“Don’t call it that,” she grumbles, but nods anyway and pulls out her own phone. “You sound like an old person.”

“You sound like an old person,” Paige mocks, effectively lowering her age by a solid ten years, and Tess rolls her eyes in amusement. She slides a little closer to Tess, reaching for her left leg and draping it over her right one gently, locking their ankles together. “Good?” Tess hums, looking over Paige’s shoulder and throwing a thumbs up into view of the camera. “You’re so unoriginal,” Paige says, but she sticks her free hand in frame and presses her middle and ring fingers to her thumb, raising her index and pinky in the Husky salute.

“That’s basically a hard launch,” Tess says, though she doesn’t really care.

“Everything we do is a hard launch,” Paige retorts. “We got Instagram detectives, remember?”

Tess mulls it over for a second before turning to Paige with a mischievous grin. “You wanna break the internet?”

“Oh, now we’re talking.”

Paige posts her picture to her story, forgoing any sort of caption, and silences her phone. She gives Tess her undivided attention as she plots. Tess pulls Paige closer into her space, hooking her chin over her right shoulder and leaning against her. Setting up her phone at the right angle, she says, “Look to your left,” and Paige does so until her piercings, half of her low bun, and the slight curve of her jaw are the only things in frame. The lights glint off of the diamond studs in her ears – Tess has to resist a smirk at how obvious the picture is, but she quickly controls her expression, her lips drawing into a natural pout as she takes the photo.

“Got it?” Paige asks, tilting her head to look at the photo. A smile covers her face as she takes it in. “Tess, you’re evil. Everyone is gonna flip.”

“My notifications are going to explode,” she says forlornly. “This is the price I pay to be mysterious and sexy.”

“Mysterious, nah,” Paige says. Her eyes linger on Tess’s face for a moment before she breaks out into a grin. “Sexy…? Hell nah.”

Indignant, Tess pushes her away, sending Paige sprawling to the floor dramatically. “Asshole! What happened to those ‘women-respecting feelings?’”

“You just pushed me to the ground!” Paige cries. “Where are your women-respecting feelings?”

Craig walks in just then, his face morphing into amused confusion as he looks between the two of them, wrapping supplies in hand. “Am I interrupting something?” he jokes.

Tess tries to keep the blush off of her cheeks. “Paige is just being mean to me,” she declares. “Poor Tess Kennedy whose left knee doesn’t even work.”

“Bro!” Paige’s tone is exasperated, and it brings a smile to Tess’s face. “You’re full of sh–” Paige cuts herself off with a cough. “...Sharks. Full of sharks.”

Craig chuckles as he examines Tess’s knee one last time before nodding and beginning to wrap it. “Same stuff, okay? Ice it when you do independent exercise, keep using your crutches, absolutely nothing strenuous.”

Tess nods, thanking Craig and heading out with Paige at her side. Even though the PT combined with her lack of sleep the night before has left her exhausted, Tess is in a significantly better mood than she started the day with. It’s likely too early into her recovery to feel any sort of earth-shattering hope, but she can’t help but feel like she’s doing it. She has yet to attend her first therapy appointment and the light at the end of the tunnel is still ten months away, but it feels like she’s making it out alive. And for now, that’s good enough for her.

MAY 6, 2023

Sleep comes easier to her Friday night. The cravings returned in full force as she was getting ready for bed, but Tess was exhausted – she took a melatonin gummy and passed out, although her knee woke her up a time or two. She felt well-rested for the first time in a couple of days. The drinking numbed her enough that she was able to sleep, but the abrupt cut-off has her body in disarray. It’s a double-edged sword. Her body craves it, but every time she thinks about a drink, she’s so disgusted at the thought that she can nearly taste the bile in her mouth. While it makes the cravings subside for a moment, they always return. She takes Tylenol in the morning to ward off the impeding headache and chugs a cup and a half of water, feeling as though she needs to flush all the bullshit out of her body.

Kamilla and Bree are up early and the three of them mill about the kitchen as they prepare a light breakfast. It was a Saturday morning tradition for them, usually consisting of pancakes, bacon, and eggs and a lengthy conversation about their weeks or anything in general. They’ve missed out on it for the past month for…obvious reasons that Tess already nurses a lot of guilt over, but she’s keen on making up for lost time. Kam and Bree put her on bacon duty as it’s the least strenuous. She portions the meat in the pan and slides it into the oven as Kam and Bree bicker over their shared stovetop space.

It’s grounding. Tess contributes where she can, enjoying the peace of the moment and laughing along with her teammates when they say something stupid. It nearly makes her forget about her knee, about the guilt she’s working through as she continues to make amends. Part of her wonders why she’d ever resorted to shutting everyone out and losing herself when all she really needed was to just let them in. She watches Kam shout in indignation as Bree jokingly flicks a bit of pepper into her pancake batter, and all Tess can think about is how could she ever hurt those girls. She remembers her promise. Tess has let too many terrible things become a habit, but she refuses to let mistreating her friends be a continued one.

They all sit to eat and the chatter only stops long enough to pass around their bottle of maple syrup and the butter. Kam and Bree ask how PT’s been going, and Tess is honest when she answers. She’s only two days into it and more often than not, it hurts – but she knows it’s for the better. She doesn’t voice the worry that she might stop taking it as seriously once Paige is back in Connecticut. Tess was only partially joking when she told Craig she had an enforcer. Paige holds her accountable in a way she’s been trying to force herself into doing, but her mind is still such a mess that it’s difficult and all she wants to do is mope in bed all day. She knows Kam and Bree wouldn’t let her live that down and she doesn’t want them to feel like she still needs a babysitter.

They tell her that they're proud of her, and Tess feels the tears well up as she tells them to shut up.

“She’s so back,” Kamilla cheers, high-fiving Bree. “Our little ball of sunshine.” Tess can only roll her eyes.

Breakfast ends and Kam and Bree ensure that they’ve got the dishes. The clock on the stove reads 10:30. Tess knows that Paige is likely on her way. She hugs them both, promising to be back once she’s seen her off, and slips into her shoes just as a knock rings out at the door.

Paige’s brows draw into a dramatic furrow once they come face to face. “Damn, you opened this door mad quick,” she says. “Tryna get rid of me that fast?”

Tess cracks a smile, shutting the door behind them with the leg of her crutch. “The sooner you’re out of South Carolina, the better.” They walk down the hallway.

Paige sighs as she punches the elevator button for the lobby. “You’ll miss me,” she says, assured. “You’re gonna miss me bringin’ you coffee, DoorDashing you Chipotle, and making sure you don’t re-tear your ACL.”

“On the contrary…I’ll enjoy the peace and quiet.” Paige shoots her a dirty look and Tess can’t help but laugh.

Paige escorts her to the Uber she has waiting for them. She holds onto Tess’s crutches as she helps her into the passenger side backseat, laying her leg flat against the leather. Her foot nearly brushes the door. Confused and wondering what Paige is doing, the blonde shuts the door and rounds the side. As she settles in, she drapes Tess’s leg over her lap. “You good?”

Mouth dry, all Tess can do is nod, and Paige leans forward enough to instruct their Uber driver to head to the airport. Her palm falls flat on Tess’s shin, her thumb brushing against her leg, and with the way Paige stares out of the window, it’s almost like she doesn’t even register what she’s doing. Their ride is quiet, save for the driver's soft R&B that Paige bobs her head to. Tess slips her phone out of her pocket and snags a quick photo, flipping her phone screen to show her. Paige smiles at her wordlessly, knowing they shouldn’t verbally scheme in front of the driver, and Tess posts the photo to her story.

She refreshes her feed, combing through all of the shit she’s been tagged in from various college basketball update accounts and Instagram sleuths. She and Paige are the face of a new account named taigeupdates – which Tess is assuming is supposed to be their ship name? Given that the alternative is Pess – not that Tess has given it any thought, because she hasn’t! – she could live with it. The admin already has Tess’s story reposted and the comments are flooding in with many begging for an official hard launch since it’s already obvious.

Their driver parks in the designated drop off lane and Paige helps Tess out of the backseat, ensuring she’s stable on her crutches before she’s looping around to the trunk and pulling her carry-on and suitcase out. Tess can already feel the eyes on them, the hushed whispers of, “Is that Paige Bueckers and Tess Kennedy?” And despite years in the spotlight, she can’t help the anxious flush that creeps up on her neck. Having so many eyes on her makes her feel vulnerable enough, but combined with the fact she has a huge brace on her leg and she’s walking around with crutches? She feels uncomfortable, like she’s a pacing animal behind bars in the zoo.

“Ready?” Paige murmurs, stepping up behind her, pressing her free hand to the palm of Tess’s back. The touch comforts her slightly, but only because she’s accustomed to Paige right now and because they’re in this together. Tess gives her a solid nod, tightening her hands around the bars of her crutches. The blonde moves her hand down to her hip to give her a reassuring squeeze before placing it at the center of her back. Paige leads them into the airport, though she leans down, her mouth close to Tess’s ear as she whispers. “We shoulda talked about this earlier, but…what’s on and off limits right now?”

Tess swallows, trying to ignore the nerves. “Just do whatever feels right,” she answers honestly. “The media knows we just spent three days together, right? Don’t overthink it. I’m your girlfriend sending you off at the airport. Make it look like that and not two strangers trying to look the part.”

Paige grins insufferably at her. “Aw, I think that’s the first time you claimed me,” she says. Tess rolls her eyes, tempted to swat her with her crutch, but decides against it. The last thing she needs is Paige tripping and fucking up her knee even more. “So…nothing's off limits?”

“You wanna kiss me so bad you look stupid,” Tess says, nudging Paige with her elbow. From the corner of her eye, she can see the phone camera pointed at them, so she swallows her pride and looks up to Paige with a grin. “I think we should hug for sure. Anything else is too soon...like I said, we've spent three days together. I don't U-Haul.”

“Fine by me,” Paige says, looking far too comfortable as she walks through the airport. “Don't wanna do nothing you're uncomfortable with. Even if it would break the Internet. I know you like that shit.” Tess shrugs, but she was pleased with the media’s reaction so far. Between the two of them, Paige was definitely the menace and chaos-monger, although Tess enjoyed setting a fire once in a while. They finally reach Paige’s terminal and she leaves Tess’s side long enough to check in at the counter.

While she’s gone, a teenage girl approaches Tess with a shy expression, phone clutched in hand. “Excuse me, are you Tess Kennedy?” she asks.

“Guilty,” Tess jokes, leaning on her healthy leg.

“Do you mind if I get a picture?”

Tess shakes her head, saying, “Not at all,” as she moves to stand next to the girl. She angles the phone and Tess throws up a peace sign, grinning, and she snaps the photo. Before either of them can say anything else, Paige is walking back from the check in counter and the girl looks like she’s about to start doing cartwheels.

“Is that–”

“Unfortunately,” Tess sighs, which makes the girl laugh and Paige narrows her eyes. Remembering where they are, Tess smiles innocently.

“Can I get another picture with the both of you?”

Paige and Tess can’t resist. Paige rarely turns down her supporters in the first place, and all Tess can think about when she’s in these situations is all the times she’s ever met her idols and how it changed her life. Being in a situation to give back to the youth like that is one of the best parts about playing basketball. They pose on either side of the teenager as she takes the photo, and after quick hugs and a lot of gratitude, Paige and Tess are left alone.

Tess checks the time, realizing that Paige is boarding soon. The overhead PA confirms as much and Paige glances at Tess once more, hiking her carry-on bag higher on her shoulder. “You gonna miss me?” she asks teasingly, and Tess taps her chin, thinking.

“Hmm,” she ponders. “Not one bit.”

“You will,” Paige says confidently. “I got motion like that.” Tess rolls her eyes, unable to curb the warm fondness in her chest. She just pretends like it doesn’t exist. “Make sure you eat, alright? And go to PT. And be real with your therapist. Lemme hear you’re bein’ irresponsible and I’ll fly back down to set you straight.”

“Yes, Paige. Anything else?”

Paige shrugs, an easy smile on her face. “I know you pretend like you’ont like me, but I had fun with you. Even when you were mean.”

“Not mean,” Tess argues weakly. She can’t hide how touched she is by Paige’s words. “Just trying to keep your ego at a reasonable level.”

“Whatever you say, ma,” the blonde concedes. She opens her arms and Tess forgets all about the media, their story, whatever it is they’re supposed to be pretending to do as she wraps her arms around Paige’s waist. She could care less about the cameras, about the social media explosion they’re undoubtedly causing. Paige’s hands are warm on her back and her perfume makes Tess’s head spin. “Gimme a call if you need anything, I mean it. Don’t try to do this by yourself. Promise me.”

“Promise,” Tess vows. Paige pulls back ever so slightly, her eyes studying Tess’s face as her hands slide down her back, resting on her hips. Paige smiles at her and gives her a gentle squeeze before pulling away completely. She and Paige are both flushed, though the red creeping up Tess’s neck feels strangely like embarrassment.

“Call you when I land?” she asks quietly. Tess nods, forcing a smile, and they share their final goodbyes before Paige walks away.

Tess watches as she goes, suddenly hyper aware of the cameras and the crowd, and she holds back a sigh. She needs to get it together. None of that was real. She’s just a mess emotionally, touch-starved after a month-long crash out, and she’s letting it get to her head. She’ll feel more regulated after a nap and some stretches.

Hopefully.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige bueckers x oc #uconn #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #ncaa wbb

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cass1dyyy · 3 months ago

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bad idea!

was such a bad idea, im totally fucked.

request by @lovetaylorrussellgrr

contains: fluff, angst a little bit

summary: when childhood bestfriend!mattheo wants to make his ex girlfriend jealous, and fake date you, you decide to go along with it. however, his ex might not be the only jealous one…

warnings: swearing (as usual), kissing, i dont think anything else??

“please?? can you just do this one favour for me? we’ve been friends for like, forever!!!” mattheo whined to you.

you were in the library, putting away some books you had used for your revision.

“no way! im not fake-dating you so you can date pansy again.” you say, finding the idea ridiculous.

“pleaseeee?” he suddenly grabbed your shoulders, shaking you roughly as he begged over and over again.

“oh my god, fine!” you say, as he lets go of you.

“you’re such a dick.” you put your final book away, walking out of the library, as he follows beside you.

“you know you love me.” he prods you, smirking smugly, as you roll your eyes.

“whatever. how are we gonna play this out? i mean, are we just going to make out infront of everyone or something?” you ask.

“okay, here’s the plan.”

you’re hanging out with enzo, draco, theodore, mattheo, and blaise in the courtyard, just before your first period. its not unusual to hang out with them, since you’ve known mattheo for such a long time, and theyre his best mates.

you fidget uncomfortably, listening to lorenzo’s new ludicrous story that happened to him one time, as thoughts race through your head.

how is mattheo so comfortable with this?

isnt it weird to him? i mean we’ve been bestfriends since our childhoods..

is he as nervous as me?

this seems like a bad idea..

you snap out of your daze, once you realise its time for class. you walk towards mattheo, your nerves fizzing and popping inside you like fireworks.

“hey, i’ll see you later okay? i gotta get to class.” you stick to the “script” as mattheo calls it, and lean in.

then, you two kiss. it starts off soft and slow, before he wraps his arms around you as it becomes more passionate. time seems to slow down as you become entranced in the embrace, before you come back to your senses and pull apart. that was definitely not part of the script..

“what the fuck?!” enzo shouts.

“jesus, you didnt have to eat her face off, she’s just going to class!” blaise exclaims.

“when did this even happen?” draco chimes in. the plan was working.

mattheo gives you a smile, with a glint of a smug look in his eyes as he nods his head to the side. you follow his gaze, and see pansy parkinson glaring at you both, as she stands with her new boyfriend. you feel glad that the plan is working, as you walk off towards your class.

it had been a month since you and mattheo’s “relationship” started up, and god, word spreads FAST in hogwarts. the whole of slytherin and gryffindor knew by the first day, ravenclaw and hufflepuff following behind after the second day, and the teachers on the fourth day. you had gained a lot of popularity and attention, and you didnt mind it most of the time, but sometimes it made you feel uneasy.

that month was full of makeouts, holding hands, going on dates (making sure pansy was where you guys were of course) , hugs, and lots more. and it seemed to be working!

you were sitting at a table in the great hall, during a study session with snape. you sat next to mattheo obviously, and the rest of his mates. you wondered if it was too obvious, what with how much time you’d been spending with him. you’d had like no break with eachother, every day was spent together.

“hey, matty?” you whisper, in order to not get caught by snape, who was in a bad mood (as usual).

“hm?”

��dont you think we’re being too.. obvious?”

“you’re just anxious, y/n. trust me, everything’s fine.” he whispers back, placing a hand on yours, as butterflies fluttered in your stomach.

you startled at the feeling, trying to shake it off.

this was your bestfriend, that you’d known since you were 5… there was nothing going on between you and him. and you didnt have feelings for him!! you couldnt… right?

you frowned. it seemed like the only thing he cared about was getting pansy back. this was the deal though, and you had to go along with it.

“y/n?” mattheo whispered again

“yes?”

“theres a party in the slytherin common room tonight, and we should both go, is that okay?”

“yeah, sure.” you reply, before a book slammed down on both of your heads, as you winced. snape swiftly walked away, and you both looked at eachother, stifling a giggle.

green lights blinded you, as music played at an ear-splitting volume, while you pushed through the crowd, trying to get to mattheo. you had another script you had to act out, and you took several shots of the probably very strong alcohol on display before it.

the thing is, you’d.. caught feelings. you knew it, and the only way you could push them away was being totally consumed by alcohol. that way, the sting of being broken up with in a fake relationship would hurt less to you.

every slight touch, every entrancing kiss, every fiery makeout made your feelings build up until you couldn’t take it anymore. you had to remind yourself that this was all an act, it meant nothing to mattheo. and.. that hurt. this whole thing was such a bad idea.

to be honest, you’d always known he was your crush. i mean, how couldnt you? he would always hug you when you were crying, and watch films with you whenever you wanted. you’d both fall asleep together, tangled up by the morning. he’d buy you your favourite foods and cravings when you were on your period, and kiss you softly on the forehead everytime he left the room or hugged.

and you guessed you’d been his crush. you were wrong.

you reached mattheo, shaking the thoughts and memories off, and he looked kind of.. unsure? his demeanour had changed a lot, and he seemed like he wanted to leave.

“okayyyyy, letsss do this.” you slur your words, grabbing him so he faces you.

“y/n, are you drunk?”

“i’m breaking up with you!!” you shriek, not caring to answer him.

he doesnt answer. he just looks at you plainly.

has he forgotten his script? you think.

“i just dont think its working. im inlove with… lorenzo!” you say in your drunken state.

the room erupts in gasps and hushed whispers. enzo whoops and high-fives blaise behind the crowd, before they come closer and see who is actually speaking. his jaw DROPS.

suddenly, pansy rushes forward to mattheo, crashing her lips onto his, as he’s taken by surprise. your eyes widen, and you frown, not processing the situation, since youre hammered.

“and you’re cheating on me?!” you scream.

you snatch a drink from someones hand next to you, throwing it all over him, before dropping the empty cup and walking out of the room, satisfied. you take some water with you, and sit down in an empty corridor, taking a few sips and sighing.

half an hour later, you hear the click-clack of footsteps getting closer to you. you’d sobered up quite a bit (after throwing up in the bathroom nearest to you), and looked around the corner expectantly.

“what the fuck, y/n? most of that wasnt part of the script. and why were you so drunk?”

“can you stop calling it that? im your girl- bestfriend, not an actor. anyway, you’ve got pansy now. im just tired of being dragged around and told what to do all the time.” you blurt out, praying he wouldnt catch the slip-up.

he sat down beside you.

“im sorry, y/n. i basically used you, and im a dick.”

“told you that already, many times.” you say, as you both laugh.

“i realised that at the party. i wanted to call it off, but you started saying stuff. i also realised something else-“

“im inlove with you!” you shriek. you didnt even know where you’d gotten that confidence from.

that was such a bad idea, im totally fucked.

he just sits there, dumbfounded. you fidget uncomfortably, wanting him to atleast answer you.

then, he puts his hand on your cheek. a soft kiss follows, and you can feel the love in this one. it wasnt like one of his put-on ones for pansy. no one was looking here. it was real.

“i love you.”

“really?” you ask.

“yes, you idiot.

“i love you too.”

“i mean, could you not tell?? all those films we watched, all the snacks i bought you, the valentines gifts that were ‘friendly’, etc etc. ive loved you since i was little.” he kisses your cheek as you smile.

“maybe this wasnt such a bad idea.”

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lvrgirlrey · 4 months ago

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BSD HCS *̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

⋆꙳•̩̩͙ ❅ *̩̩͙‧͙ ⛇⋆☃︎ ‧͙ *̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: how i think BSD characters would be in a relationship!

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤: akutgawa ryuunosuke, osamu dazai, atsushi nakajima

𝔸/ℕ: this is my first actual tumblr post so this might not be my best work :v it was fun making this but it was kinda hard to do it cuz im not really the type of person to make headcanons ;p kudos to the people who can make a bunch of posts in one day! it took me a while just to make this one :,)

ℂ𝕎: this does include NSFW HCS but nothing too crazy! minors proceed with caution!

𝕒𝕜𝕦𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕨𝕒 𝕣𝕪𝕦𝕦𝕟𝕠𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕖

𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* you were definitely obvious with your hints toward him but started to catch on that you though of him as more than friends

* was so confused when you confessed

* “where did that come from?”

* managed to keep a straight face

* he didn’t want others to know that the two of you were together for at least a month or two

* he is NOT a fan of PDA. no matter the circumstances, he hates PDA always

* would buy you the occasional present like flowers and candy (asked gin for help)

* definitely not the most romantic person; hugs and kisses would feel very foreign to him. he would be okay with just your presence with him

* would never outright ask for something, you would basically have to figure it out on your own

* you’d have to be VERY patient, he’s definitely inexperienced in relationships

* his way of showing affection would be acts of service. buying you tea/coffee, doing chores for you, tending to your injuries after a difficult mission, etc

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* a switch. mostly dominant but will not resist when you top him

* not the highest stamina but will absolutely try his hardest for 3+ rounds (can’t blame him for his lung problems)

* is definitely a thigh guy. you’re wearing a short skirt and thigh highs? expect getting absolutely railed later

* he’s an in between a rough/fast paced quickie and slow/sensual love making kinda guy

* very quiet, almost silent. at most does some very heavy breathing while he’s close

* doesn’t have the biggest sex drive but is an absolute nasty dog if he’s been having a stressful day at work

* loves doggy style

* won’t finish until you’ve finished at least once

* willing to give oral but would need a lot of convincing

* not kinky but is still willing to try (probably won’t enjoy it much)

* for aftercare, he would run you both a hot shower to clean you off and cuddle in bed afterwards

𝕠𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕦 𝕕𝕒𝕫𝕒𝕚

𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* knew you liked him from basically the beginning

* he gave off every instance where you were so obviously hinting at something

* everyone in the world would know when you guys started dating because he would NOT keep his mouth shut

* “why would i hide the woman i love from the world?”

* the master of PDA

* his hands are all over you 24/7

* physical touch is his love language

* constant flow of gifts, your desk is always overly crowded by them

* talks everyone’s ears off about you

* absolutely worships the ground you walk on

* loves scaring you half to death constantly

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* dominant switch. is ALWAYS in controlled

* the freakiest man alive. kinks, toys, you name it and he’s into it

* an absolute tease. loves laughing on how you look pathetic under him and denies your orgasm so much you nearly pass out

* can go on for round after round after round, 2-3 times a day, 4-5 times a week (this man is an absolute beast)

* a tit man. loves missionary just to see them bouncing for him. just seeing them would make him finish

* loves quickies. before, during, and after missions.

* KNOWS he’s loud. wants you to know how good you make him feel

* spanks. a lot. you can’t sit comfortably after having sex with him

* does NOT play when it comes down to giving oral. is absolutely making you see stars from the moment he starts

* absolutely a “rough and fast” man. constantly hitting the sweet spot every time and will laugh when you ask him to slow down

* aftercare kinda sucks with him.. at most would cuddle after but that’s basically it

𝕒𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚 𝕟𝕒𝕜𝕒𝕛𝕚𝕞𝕒

𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* ABSOLUTELY clueless. did not know you liked him until you told him to his face

* “oh. OH. IS THAT WHY YOU ___?”

* would be a little closed off and reserved at first but slowly open up to you

* not the biggest fan of PDA but would occasionally give you a quick peck if you really wanted it

* gets you gifts but sometimes they’re not the best (he tried that’s all that matters)

* definitely a quality time kinda guy; going out for a walk/dates are his go-to

* the biggest snuggle bug ever; he’s always cuddled up to you in private. in public he’s just always super close to you to the point that he sometimes get in the way

* always rushing to your aid

* dazai teases him because “he looks like a lost puppy, constantly following you around”

* gets you “just because” flowers

* loves head pats

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎:

* the most switch of all switches. will dom in the middle of you taking charge

* AN ASS GUY. loves doggy style and reverse cowgirl just to see your ass bouncing off his dick

* unaware of how loud he is. will get looks from the other ADA members because of his volume

* tries out different kinds of kinks every time to make sure he finds one that you both enjoy

* wouldn’t enjoy anything that involved hurting you (slaps, spanks, whips, etc)

* on the contrary, LOVES getting his hair pulled. practically begs for you to pull it every time

* is very sensual when it’s dedicated sex time but for a quickie? might as well become the weretiger because of how feral he gets

* an average sex drive. mostly 2-3 times a week

* aftercare is just getting food after he pounded you

⋆⋅•⋅⊰∙∘⋆ ❆ ⋆∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋆

again, this is my first actual post so please don’t mind any mistakes/errors! thank you for reading :,D

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #atsushi nakajima #akutagawa ryuunosuke #dazai osamu #atsushi x reader #akutagawa x reader #dazai x reader #anime and manga #anime #manga #lvrgirlrey

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ddaisyvision · 1 year ago

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𝐆𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! | 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈

𝐚/𝐧: im back bitches and it feels great! writing this was real fun. i was smokin a lil weed, listening to music and then gimme more by britney spears came on and thus this was born. it was supposed to be a mini fic but.. i got a lil carried away lmao. enjoy my babies! 💋

𝐜𝐰: pervy!denji, sleazy!denji, stripper!reader (your stripper name is diamond btw), fem!bodied, heavy petting, sloppy kissing, alcohol use, raw penetrative sex, breeding(?)| 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)

Even in his twenties, Denji was still a perverted loser. He may have been a great devil hunter; but his lust for women kept him anchored on distraction. Tits. Pussy. Asses. The fat of their thighs spreading when they sit. The way they smell; so sweet like flowers or a piece of decadent dessert. The allure of femininity alone scratched an itch within him.

So is it any surprise that Denji’d be spending his nights at the local strip club? Every Friday; his only day off a week, he’d be sat with his ones in tow sitting in the front row of the stage every bit of gitty. He was like a teenage boy, already undressing the half dressed dancers that walked around the dimly lit club with his hungry eyes.

“Alright gentlemen! This girl’s a newcomer to our club tonight, so open your wallets and please give a warm welcome to the gorgeous Diamond!”

Denji’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw you, walking achingly slow towards the middle of the big pink stage. You were dressed in all baby blue; soft white accents of your outfit making you look every bit of angelic. Your breasts were adorned in a sparkly bikini-like top, the twinkle of every rhinestone calling attention to the audience like a flare in the sky. His eyes were then fixated onto your navel where a heart shaped charm hung ever so dainty. His gaze traveled down to your soft legs as they wrapped around the pole, a vision of those same legs wrapped around his waist as he took you quickly coming to mind.

Denji’s now fighting the agitating urge to palm himself through his jeans, his cock now painfully hard as he watched you grind and shake your plump ass on the pole. Your body seemed to float when you danced, a mix of seduction and grace that was quite impressive for an amateur. Your routine landed you on the floor of the stage, crawling towards the man that looked to be her biggest fan already.

Denji swallowed his nerves and braced himself as you got closer, eyes immediately falling to your cleavage. As you sensually touch your body in front of him, grinding and arching your back for his viewing pleasure, Denji’s hands start to stuff money right in between your breasts. You can’t help but giggle at his eagerness to show his appreciation for you, so you turn around and wiggle your ass in his face, Denji’s cheeks now bloodshot red. His lust was so obvious, hands touching every bit of skin he could before your routine was over.

You liked him. You didn’t know why but you did. He tipped you so nicely and his hands felt so good on your skin it almost lit you ablaze. You both seem to get lost in the moment as you let him explore your curves, softly gasping when his slender fingers ghost past your pussy. It was a cheeky move that caught you by surprise, touching this salacious normally granted in a gentle ass-whooping by security. Luckily no one saw.

Long after your dance, you and Denji continued the party in one of the luxe VIP rooms in the back. One glass of champagne led to another and suddenly you were both all over each other. Denji may have had to dip into his savings a bit to afford you but god were you worth every cent. You were sat in his lap tasting him, your tongues swirling together to take each other in. His teeth gently tug at your bottom lip as he reluctantly pulls back, his hands speaking more than he might have been. He starts to knead at your breasts, tugging the fabric of your top aside to reveal your soft mounds. Denji moans as if he’d just slipped inside you at the sight of your puffy nipples, taking his time licking and sucking and tugging at each one with sloppy noises following every motion. Heat started to rise from between your legs, essence oozing from your pussy as your mouth hangs agape. You really want to keep quiet. Sex wasn’t allowed in the VIP rooms but so long as the customers paid, no one seemed to mind.

“We can’t, baby, not in here.” You purr directly into his ear. Each hair at the back of Denji’s neck stands, your sweet voice causing his already aching cock to twitch and leak furiously. The thought of not getting what he paid for struck a chord in Denji.

“C’mon. Might as well gimme somethin’.” Denji pulls this line out of his back pocket, trying not to sound desperate but the teasing is killing him at this point. All he can think of is burying his cock deep inside your gorgeous pussy and fucking you until you both see stars. You take one look into his puppy dog eyes and swoon, taking a hand to dotingly stroke his angry cock through his pants. You erupt into a fit of giggles as you watch him flinch and buck his hips up to meet your hands for more friction.

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute...”

Any more foreplay would have the both of you erupting with just one touch, lips crashing into each other for one sloppy mess of a drunken kiss. Both your hands get tangled together as you try to take off Denji’s jeans, the sound of his belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor with a clank. The sexual tension between the two of you was suffocating as if you couldn’t get to each other fast enough. Finally Denji’s cock sprung free from the confines of his clothes. It was surprisingly big. Not too lengthy with the right amount of girth. His poor cock had been leaking so much the front of Denji’s boxers were soaking wet. Had he already cum?

Your sultry eyes drink him in, sliding your panties out of the way as your feet plant down on either side of his legs on the long lounge chair. Your sopping cunt is now hovering over his lonely tip, your pretty hand wrapped around his length to keep him still. As you slowly sink down you can feel the slickness of your pussy coating him, the two of you moaning in sync at the sensation. The delicious pressure caused you to bite your lip to keep the noise at a minimum, sitting all the way down as Denji’s face lay snugly between your cleavage. He’s already losing his mind, his fingers digging indents into the skin of your hips to lift you up and down on his cock, you following his rhythm by bouncing up and down. Fuck he filled you so nicely, causing your legs to shake with every bounce of your hips. Hell, you could barely keep yourself up, Denji’s learned a thing or two from all those pornos he spends his spare time reading, licking the tip of his thumb to flick at your swollen bud. You can feel yourself clench around him as he touches you there, your moans becoming more and more difficult to keep them down.

“Haah, fuck, haaaah.” Denji moans, almost louder than you.

His voice was shaky, breath uneven. You can hear bits and pieces of how good your pussy feels, how badly he wants to cum inside you; but it’s hard to make out. You can tell he’s close; you were too. You stop your hips and let his lust drive his movement, his hips thrusting upwards without you having to direct him. Your hands find themselves in Denji’s hair, holding him closely as you come undone for him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your entire body sits limp in Denji’s grasp. It doesn’t take much longer for Denji to follow suit, his cock finally finding the release it had been craving since the moment he saw you. He fucks his seed into you without a thought behind his eyes besides cumming. Fits of ‘oh fuck’s and ‘shit’ flood from his lips as his head hangs back in the seat, facing the ceiling. His hot sticky cum flooded your walls, some even leaking and dripping all over the chair beneath you two as you watched him get off with satisfied eyes.

“You’re cute when you cum.” You say to him, trying to catch your breath as you fit a small giggle in between. Denji smiles, his head finally rising again to look you in your eyes.

“See you next Friday?” He asks with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. You can’t help but laugh.

“For sure.”

#csm smut #denjichainsawman #denji smut #denji x reader #★ csm

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mythicalmaven · 3 months ago

Text

Beyond Boundaries - Oscar Piastri (PART TEN)

Masterlist

IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. My health has just been crap, had two hospitalizations for my chronic illness that got a flare up, but I'm back to writing now, with a long chapter!

↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!norris!reader ↳word count: 6K ↳chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten ↳chapter warnings: friends to lovers, brothers teammate trope, angst, bestfriend!reader, fluff, tortuously slow smut scene, seduction, smut, 18+ (MDNI!), handjob (m!&f! receiving), oral (f!receiving), making out, dirty talk, sub!oscar, dom!oscar, switch!oscar

↳series summary: Since Oscar joined McLaren as your brother’s teammate, you two have quickly become best friends. Recently promoted to be Oscar’s physiotherapist, you both relish the opportunity to spend more time together. However, as the new role brings you closer, you both realize you might be feeling more a little more for each other than just friendship

Oscar and Lando walked into Zak's office, the atmosphere immediately feeling thick with an unspoken tension. Zak stood by the window, looking out over the track before turning to face them with a serious expression.

"Take a seat, both of you," Zak said, his tone firm but not unkind. Oscar could feel his stomach twist with apprehension, Lando beside him shuffling awkwardly in his chair. Zak took a deep breath, folding his arms. "Alright, boys, let's cut straight to the chase. Oscar," he began, locking eyes with the young driver, "you need to watch out for your image. I understand things happen—you're young, life's fast, and sometimes emotions get the best of you. But kissing someone in public that you're not publicly dating, especially when that someone is a co-worker... it's not a smart move."

Oscar opened his mouth to speak, but Zak held up a hand to stop him. "The media's already catching on. Whispers are starting to circulate, and we need to get ahead of this before it turns into a full-blown story." Zak walked around to the front of his desk, leaning against it. "That's why we've discussed the subject within the team and have a proposition for you" he started, taking a breath "The idea is to put you in a publicity stunt—a fake relationship with a girl. Someone from outside the company, someone who can help steer the narrative away from... well, from the internal complications."

Oscar blinked, feeling a mix of surprise and disbelief. "A fake relationship?" he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. Zak nodded. "It's the best way to simmer down the talk. Give the media something else to focus on. You don't have to like it, Oscar, but it's probably what's best for now. We can't afford any distractions right now." Oscar nodded gently to his words, before Zak spoke up again "Or is there anything that we should maybe know about? Something more to the whole ordeal?"

The young Australian swallowed audibly, getting a little nervous "N-No, it's fine"

Lando noticed that Oscar didn't know what to say, visibly uncomfortable about it "He already got the lecture from Sophie" he said, taking a deep breath "I'm pretty sure he's aware that it was a very stupid mistake" Zak wordlessly agreed with Lando, so he continued on without more lecturing words. He looked at Oscar "So, what do you say?"

Lando shifted in his seat "Before he answers that, uh, why am I here, exactly?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Zak turned to him, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ah, well. We kinda had a similar proposition for you as well. If you'd both agree, we would set yours up in about 2 weeks after Oscar's" Lando's eyes widened. "What? Why?" Zak chuckled softly. "Come on, Lando. You haven't exactly been subtle with your... escapades with Daniel." Zak's tone was light, but his expression remained serious. "You've been trying to be, but it's starting to look pretty obvious." Lando flushed, glancing sideways at Oscar, who raised an eyebrow, slightly amused. "I'm not against it," Zak continued, "Not at all. But you need to think about what you're doing. If the media catches wind of it... if anything goes wrong... it'll bite you in the ass, hard." Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "So, you want me to fake-date someone too, just to throw them off?" Zak nodded. "Exactly. We need to control the narrative before the narrative controls us." Oscar exchanged a glance with Lando, both of them feeling the weight of Zak's words settle on their shoulders. "Understood," Oscar finally said, his voice steady. "I'll do it if it's necessary." Lando hesitated for a moment, then nodded as well. "Yeah... me too. Whatever it takes." Zak smiled, clapping his hands together. "Good. Glad we're all on the same page. Now, let's get to work."

"So, any details on how we're supposed to do this then? Like, for how long? And what do you expect from us regarding those girls?"

Zak looked at the two boys "Well, at least a month, I guess. I think that'll do to simmer down the suspicions "We'll find a girl for you that looks a little like Y/n, just so people think that the girl in the press picture was that girl"

Oscar nodded, shifting awkwardly in his seat, not really knowing how to act about this.

"From there we want to start with her joining you in the paddock during a race. Maybe hold her hand, give her a kiss, pretending to be subtle, while you actually just want the cameras to catch on to it" Zak explained, leaning back in his chair "Just do couple-like stuff with her. Share a picture of you both on social media, or don't. That's up to you. After a month, you can just give a short explanation on your social media about how you were dating, but mutually decided to break up and are better off as friends"

Lando shook his head "Do you have any idea how complicated this sounds?" he explained "I'm a formula 1 driver, not an actor. How do you expect me to fake being in love with someone?"

Zak sighed "I understand, Lando. You both don't have to do this if you really don't want to, but we all think it might be the best way to fight off the suspicions, in both of your cases"

Oscar shifted his eyes from his lap back to the man in front of him "So you even want us to kiss the girls in question?" he asked

"I'm not forcing you into anything, but I think we both know that the media will have a hard time believing that you're dating someone if you refuse to kiss them"

Later that day

Oscar was sprawled out belly down on his bed in his hotel room, replaying the conversation in his head over and over again. Lando was lying on the couch opposite Oscar’s bed, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Fucking hell, mate,” Oscar muffled into his pillow, his voice heavy with frustration. “How am I even supposed to tell her this?”

Lando chuckled lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “I guess using words would work,” he sassed, earning a glare from the Australian driver.

Oscar rolled his eyes before grabbing the nearest pillow and launching it across the room. Lando puffed out an exaggerated “Ooff,” then tossed the pillow back. “Hey! I was just trying to diffuse the tension.”

Sitting up against the headboard, Oscar sighed deeply. “I know, but I honestly don’t know how to break it to her.” His voice softened as he admitted, “I know it’s weird talking about this since she’s your sister and all, but I honestly don’t want to hurt her.”

Lando offered a sympathetic smile, sensing the weight behind Oscar’s words. “It’s okay, I’m fine with talking about it. I know you mean well,” Lando reassured him.

Oscar’s shoulders slumped as he pulled his knees toward his chest. “It’s just… I felt like things were finally going in the right direction. And now this shit happens. You know how much that sucks? I thought I finally had a chance to win over the girl of my dreams.” His voice trembled slightly, the frustration clear in his tone. “And now I have to pretend I’m in love with some random girl and kiss her in public… with her right there.”

Lando noticed the glint of emotion in Oscar’s eyes, his usually calm and collected friend on the verge of tears. “I honestly don’t know what to say. It just sucks so much,” Lando admitted, sounding defeated himself. “Maybe you can just tell Zak you don’t want to do it if it makes you feel this bad.”

“I’m not doing this for me,” Oscar mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m doing this for her. I don’t want her career to be ruined because of me.”

Lando sat up, his tone more serious now. “It’s not your fault, Osc. It takes two to tango.”

Tears started to fall down Oscar’s cheeks as he shook his head. “It is my fault. I should’ve suppressed my feelings. I shouldn’t have bothered her with them. She’s my best friend, your sister, and my damn trainer.”

“Look, Osc,” Lando said gently, "Osc, your her best friend as well, you're her client, you're her brothers teammate. She’s just as responsible as you are. It’s not all on you.”

Oscar’s voice cracked. “I just don’t want people to think less of her. I don’t want the press to call her a gold digger or say she’s using me. If fake dating some random model stops all this crap, I’ll do it.” He rambled on, not realizing how much he was pouring out his heart. “You know, if the drama would be just about me, the decision would be easy. I wouldn’t even consider the PR stunt, I couldn’t care less about my career when it cones to her. Hell, I’d even quit racing for her. She's all I think about. When I close my eyes, all I see is her. Lando, I am so in love with her it hurts”

Lando’s eyes widened, the weight of Oscar’s confession hitting him hard. After a brief pause, he spoke softly. “Mate, you’re not going to lose her over this. I know she’s not going to think less of you or let this ruin things between you. I mean, it’s obvious you care about her so much, and even if you’re not officially dating… it’s there. Anyone can see that. You should go for it.”

Oscar shook his head, his expression filled with uncertainty. “But I don’t want to risk her losing her job because of this.”

Lando leaned forward, his tone thoughtful. “But what if people don’t react the way we think? What if… instead of weird reactions, people actually love seeing you two together? A lot of drivers get shipped with each other, and the media loves my sister. Why wouldn’t they love you two together? Maybe we’re afraid of reactions that won’t even be there.”

Oscar hesitated, his brow furrowing. “But… we’re not even dating, Lando. I don’t even know what we are. We don’t have a label or anything. It’s all so uncertain.”

Lando grinned slightly. “Mate, the only reason you two aren’t official is because of your jobs and what other people might think. But even a blind person could see how in love you both are. You’re holding back for the wrong reasons. Don’t let that stop you.”

Oscar looked down, his emotions swirling inside him. “I just… I don’t want to make things worse for her.”

“Talk to her,” Lando urged. “She’ll understand. She’s smart, and she knows this whole fake relationship is just business. Nothing between you and that random girl means anything. It’ll be over before you know it.”

Oscar remained quiet for a moment, processing everything. “I’ll talk to her,” he muttered, his voice wavering with uncertainty.

“And don’t give up on her,” Lando added with a soft smile. “You care about her more than anyone else. My sister deserves someone who loves her as much as you do, and I know you’ll treat her well. Don’t let this fake PR crap get in the way of your own happiness.”

Oscar nodded, still uncertain but feeling the weight of Lando’s words sink in.

“If you need me to talk to her too, I will,” Lando offered. “A brother-sister chat might help clear her mind. Just keep communicating with her, Osc. You’ll get through this.”

The two drivers continued discussing the situation, with Oscar ultimately deciding that, for her sake, he didn’t want to risk going public yet. But he knew Lando was right—she would understand. It wasn’t ideal, and it sucked for both of them, but they had to keep talking, keep trusting each other.

“Yeah, it sucks,” Lando sighed, “but you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Oscar smiled "Enough about me now, what about you and Danny, are you okay?" Oscar then asked.

Lando nodded "It sucks of course, but I think it's for the best, you know. Danny will understand. He knows how this world works" he explained, playing with the string of his hoodie as he spoke "Besides, Danny is well aware of my feelings for him. Things have been going steady between us for a while now, it's just that we both aren't really in the mood to drop the 'We are both bisexual and dating our former teammate' bomb, yet. So if this is the solution for us to continue under the radar a bit more, then I'm sure he's fine with it"

"That's good to hear" Oscar replied, a soft smile sporting his face.

"So, you're not grossed out about me dating a dude?" Lando asks, a little nervous, even though deep down he knew the answer.

Oscar shook his head immediately "Why would I be? Wouldn't make a difference if it were a boy or a girl, now would it? As long as the person makes you happy, I'm fine with anything" he says with a smile

"Besides, it was quite obvious you were into both men and women from the start. I think everyone within McLarens has the suspicion" Oscar chuckles.

A few hours later

Oscar had invited you to his hotel room for a cozy movie night before the chaos of race weekend officially began. That’s how you found yourself now, nestled comfortably in his arms on the soft bed, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. The movie was playing, but neither of you was really paying attention. Instead, your focus had shifted to the weightier topic Oscar had brought up—one that hung in the air between you both.

He’d already explained the situation. Told you what Zak had proposed. He’d kept the details brief, just covering the essentials. There was going to be a PR relationship—a fake one—with another girl. Zak thought it was best for both your images, and Oscar had agreed, reluctantly, explaining that there didn’t seem to be much of a choice in the matter. He looked torn as he spoke, clearly not on board with the idea but unsure of any other way forward.

You weren’t happy with it either, though deep down, you’d expected something like this. The media had been buzzing for days, and the rumors surrounding you both were becoming harder to manage. Agreeing to the plan felt like the safest route for now, despite the unease that settled in your chest.

Oscar sighed softly, his breath warm against your hair. “But… what about us, though?” he asked, his voice laced with hesitation.

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He averted his gaze for a moment, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I mean, I’d understand if you didn’t want to… try things with me anymore. If you have to watch me kiss someone else, even if it’s fake. I can imagine you wanting to call it quits.”

You could feel the vulnerability in his words, his uncertainty over how you felt. Slowly, you removed yourself from his embrace and shifted your position, climbing onto his lap so you could face him directly. His wide eyes followed your every movement as you settled on top of him.

"It’s not like you're kissing her by choice,” you said softly, your hand lifting to cup his jaw. Your thumb traced the sharp line of his jaw, and you leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a teasing whisper. “I'm assuming she's not the one making you feel like this, now is she?”

Without waiting for an answer, you leaned down, your lips brushing against the side of his neck in a slow, deliberate kiss. The moment your lips touched his skin, Oscar let out a soft, guttural groan, the sound almost desperate as his hands instinctively gripped your waist. Encouraged by his reaction, you trailed your lips higher, finding the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. You pressed a soft kiss there before sucking gently, enough to elicit another quiet sound from him, a mix of pleasure and restraint.

“You can fake date her all you want,” you murmured, your lips brushing his skin as you spoke. “But as long as I’m the one making you moan at night, none of it matters.” You continued to kiss along the curve of his neck, your lips slow and purposeful, savoring every inch of his skin.

Oscar’s breathing grew heavier, and you felt the tension in his body as his hands tightened their grip on your hips. His heart was pounding beneath your palm as you slid your hand over his chest, feeling the erratic rhythm beneath his shirt. You let your fingers trail down, tracing the defined lines of his torso through the fabric, your touch feather-light and teasing. It riled you up to see how sensitive Oscar is to your touch. How you can make him tremble with something as little as a kiss and a few words. You absolutely loved it.

“I know it’s me who makes you feel like this,” you whispered seductively, your voice barely above a breath as your lips moved closer to his ear again. “I’m the one who gets you like this, aren’t I?”

Oscar whimpered softly in response, his breath catching as your hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, your fingers grazing the bare skin of his abdomen. He was trembling now, his body betraying how deeply your touch affected him.

“I want to hear you say it,” you murmured, your lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Tell me, Oscar. Tell me how I make you feel.”

His response was almost immediate, though his voice was strained, barely able to form words through the haze of desire. “You… you make me feel… so good,” he groaned, his voice laced with need. “No one else—no one makes me feel like you do.”

You smiled at his confession, your lips curving as you kissed his jawline, slowly making your way back to his lips. Your fingers slid up his chest, your nails lightly grazing his skin, drawing more breathy moans from him as you continued your slow, torturous seduction.

When your lips finally met his, you kissed him slowly, deeply, your tongue teasing his as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently at the strands. The combination of your touch and your kiss had him whimpering beneath you, his hands pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to have any distance between you.

“You might have to kiss someone else in public,” you whispered against his lips, pulling back just enough to speak, your eyes dark with desire. “But I know I’m the one who gets you like this. I’m the one who makes you feel good.”

Oscar groaned again, the sound desperate as his hands moved to your thighs, squeezing softly. His breaths were ragged, his body trembling beneath you, the tension between you both thick enough to cut through. He was completely at your mercy, lost in the slow burn of your teasing.

Your lips trailed back to his neck, and you could feel his pulse racing under your tongue as you kissed along the column of his throat, sucking gently on the skin as you moved. His chest rose and fell rapidly beneath you, each gasp and moan a testament to how much he was losing control under your touch.

“Tell me what you're thinking, baby” you whispered, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin just beneath his jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Oscar's breath hitched, his voice barely more than a strained groan. “I want you... to touch me,” he whimpered, his desperation raw. “I need you. Please.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips again, your hand sliding down his chest, savoring the way his body shuddered beneath your touch. You could feel the heat between you building, the anticipation thick in the air as you took your time, savoring every moment of his response.

He was yours—every groan, every shiver, every whispered confession. And you weren’t done with him yet. You loved the dynamic between Oscar and you. How one day Oscar could be the dominant one, but could switch to being completely at your mercy the other moment.

Your lips curved into a smile, savoring the power of his plea as you moved your hand slowly across his chest, teasing him further. "You've got to be more specific, Osc" Your lips pressed softly against the spot just below his jaw. “Tell me where you want me to touch you"

Oscar hesitated, his hands instinctively moving to guide yours lower, but you pulled away just enough to stop him. “Nuh-uh,” you tsked softly, a playful smirk on your lips. “I need you to tell me. Use your words.”

His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard, his hand dropping back onto the bed in defeat. He tried to stifle a whimper, but you could feel the need pulsing through him. Your fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down his torso, ghosting over the fabric of his shirt and sending sparks of sensation through his body. You paused just above his waistband, feeling the tension radiating from him, but deliberately avoided the spot you knew he was craving.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” you asked, letting your fingers trail along his hip before moving back up to his stomach. His muscles tensed under your touch, a soft groan escaping his lips.

You chuckled softly, your lips trailing to his ear as you whispered, “Or here?” Your hand moved to his chest, fingertips tracing circles around his nipples. Oscar bit his lip, his breath catching in his throat as his hips shifted beneath you, desperate for more. But you stayed teasing, your hand wandering, purposefully avoiding where he needed you the most.

"Tell me," you murmured again, pressing a kiss just beneath his ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Oscar whimpered, his voice strained and breathless. “I want… I want you to touch me,” he stammered, the words faltering as if he couldn't quite bring himself to say them fully. There was a part of him still clinging to the last shred of control, though deep down, he knew how much he craved letting go. The truth was, he loved this—loved you taking charge, more than he ever dared to admit. His body betrayed him, responding so eagerly to your dominance.

His eyes fluttered shut, his head falling back against the pillows as you continued your slow, deliberate torment. Every brush of your lips, every whisper of your touch, sent a fresh wave of electricity through him. He gripped the sheets beneath him, knuckles white, his body trembling under the weight of his need. The intensity of his desire threatened to overwhelm him, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to ask for more, savoring the sweet torture of your control.

You smiled against his skin, your lips brushing his jawline as you murmured, “Touch you where, Osc? Tell me exactly where you need me.”

He groaned in frustration, his body writhing beneath yours, aching for release. “Touch me… there. Please,” he whispered, his voice so raw it sent a surge of heat through you. “I need to feel your hands around my dick.”

A low hum of satisfaction left your throat as you finally let your fingers slip lower, teasing the waistband of his joggers, the heat radiating from his body pulling you in closer. “Good boy,” you purred softly into his ear, your breath warm against his skin as your lips trailed along the curve of his neck, planting a lingering kiss that sent shivers down his spine.

Oscar’s reaction was immediate—his whole body tensed beneath you, hips instinctively jerking upward, desperate for more contact. The sound of your praise hung in the air between you, its effect unmistakable. He let out a soft, strangled groan, the sound thick with need, as if those two simple words had unlocked something deep inside him. His eyes fluttered shut, his lips parted in a breathless moan, and his chest rose and fell in uneven, rapid breaths.

You could feel him twitch beneath your touch, the heat and anticipation rolling off him in waves. The mere sound of your voice calling him a 'good boy' had clearly struck a chord, one he was too overwhelmed to put into words but too aroused to hide. A thin bead of precome slicked against your fingers as you brushed over him, his body betraying just how much he enjoyed the praise—more than he would ever dare to admit aloud.

His hands fumbled for something to hold onto, gripping the sheets beneath him as he squirmed under your touch. “Fuck…” he whimpered, his voice breaking. His reaction was so visceral, so raw, that you could feel how much control he was fighting to keep, how much he craved your touch

Your hand stayed teasingly light, fingers barely grazing him as you moved lower, your touch enough to make him throb beneath you, every sensation amplified by the tension in his body. You smiled against his neck, savoring how easily you could make him come undone with nothing but your touch and your words.

“You like that, don’t you?” you whispered, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his ear. His answer came in the form of another groan, his hips bucking once again, leaking more in response to your gentle touch, his desperation growing with every passing second.

The flush on his skin deepened, the way his body reacted betraying the depth of his desire. You could feel the tremble in his thighs, the way his breathing hitched each time your fingers brushed over him, how his whole body seemed to lean into every touch, silently begging for more.

“I bet you love hearing that,” you murmured, fingers curling just enough to give him a hint of pressure, your words laced with amusement and seduction. “Admit it, Oscar. You like being called a good boy, don’t you?”

He let out a shaky breath, his body jolting at the words, unable to hold back any longer. “Y-yeah,” he breathed, his voice strained and trembling, so close to unraveling completely under the weight of his need. He pressed his head back into the pillows, overwhelmed by the sensations flooding through him, his body a live wire of sensitivity.

“Good boy,” you repeated, the words rolling off your tongue like honey as your hand moved just a little firmer, eliciting a strangled moan from Oscar that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. The way he responded to you was intoxicating, his body fully under your control as he writhed beneath you, craving every touch, every whisper, every teasing word.

He couldn’t help it—he twitched again in your hand, the dampness of his arousal slick against your fingers as he leaked more precome, his desperation making it clear just how much he wanted to give in. The pleasure was almost too much for him to handle, his body caught in that sweet spot between torture and ecstasy.

And you weren’t done with him yet.

Your lips found his neck again, trailing soft kisses along his skin, whispering between each one, “See? No random girl could ever make you feel like this… right, Osc?”

He whimpered in response, his breathing ragged as he squirmed beneath you. “No… only you,” he groaned, his hands gripping your waist as if he needed something to anchor him in the storm of sensation you were unleashing on him.

You smiled, savoring his surrender, your fingers stroking him slowly, deliberately, drawing out every sound he made. His body trembled beneath you, each moan and whimper fueling your teasing touches as you kissed along his jawline, down to his collarbone, then back up to his ear.

“Are you thinking about that girl you have to fake date now? Thinking about if she's pretty, if she could make you feel like this too?” you teased softly, your voice dripping with seduction as your hand tightened just slightly around him.

Oscar shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “No… never. Just you.”

You kissed him deeply then, your tongue slipping past his lips, slow and sensual, tasting the desperation in his breath. His hands gripped you tighter, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t get enough. His heart was racing, the pulse of his need pounding through him as your hand continued its slow, torturous rhythm, bringing him closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re mine, Osc,” you whispered against his lips, your hand quickening its pace ever so slightly. “No matter who you have to pretend with, it’s me who makes you feel this good, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he whimpered, his voice barely coherent as he bucked against your hand, his body trembling with anticipation. “Only you… please…”

You grinned, knowing how close he was, and kissed him once more, slowly, deeply, savoring every moment of his unraveling. "That’s right. I’m the one that makes you feel like this. No one else.”

Oscar’s moans grew louder, his body trembling beneath your touch as you finally gave him what he’d been begging for, his breaths coming in short gasps as he lost himself completely in you. Every groan, every whimper, every desperate plea filled the air between you, his pleasure so intense it left him barely able to form words.

As you kissed along his neck again, you took his hands in yours and moved them from your back down to cup your ass, squeezing lightly.

His response was nothing but a breathless whimper as he gripped you tighter, his body arching into yours, completely at your mercy.

The teasing, the slow build-up, and your seductive whispers had him lost, spiraling into ecstasy. You could feel him slipping away, utterly consumed by the intensity of what you were doing to him, and you smiled against his skin, knowing that only you could bring him to this point.

Oscar’s moans filled the room, raw and unrestrained, his entire body shaking as he gave in, letting you take him to the edge of oblivion. And as he finally reached that peak, his voice cracked, your name falling from his lips in a broken, breathless moan.

You smiled, your lips grazing his ear as you whispered one last time, “That’s right, Oscar. You're mine"

It took Oscar a moment to slip back into reality before he sat up on the bed, his chest still heaving from the high they had just shared. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the bed in one swift, effortless motion, holding you close to him. You gasped, half-laughing in surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck as he carried you toward the bathroom.

“Where are we going?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a playful smile tugged at your lips.

He kicked open the door to the ensuite bathroom and placed you gently down on the edge of the sink, the cool countertop a stark contrast to the warmth radiating between the two of you. Oscar walked over to the shower, turning the water on with a steady hand, before striding back to you, his presence suddenly more commanding, more assertive.

Standing between your legs, his body pressed firmly against yours, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above your ear. “Showing you that you’re mine too,” he whispered, his voice low, seductive, full of intention “You belong to me.”

Before you could respond, Oscar’s lips were on your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate, each one sending shivers through your body. His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging it gently as he tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck to his assault. He kissed his way down the column of your throat, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

“I’m not letting you wait for the water to warm up,” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing, his fingers already tracing the hem of your dress, slipping underneath to brush against your skin. He gripped the fabric, pulling it up with one swift motion before tossing it carelessly to the floor, his eyes devouring you, the hunger in them unmistakable.

His hand slid between your legs, fingers teasing, barely grazing you at first, drawing out the anticipation. He could feel how sensitive you were, how ready. You let out a soft moan as he pressed his lips against your jaw, trailing kisses down to the hollow of your throat. His fingers found their way inside you, moving slowly, torturously, making you squirm beneath him.

“You’re mine,” he growled softly, his breath hot against your skin. “No one else can touch you like this. Only me.” His fingers curled inside you just right, hitting all the right spots, and you let out a breathless whimper in response, your body arching into him. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice commanding but still gentle. “Tell me you’re mine.”

His smirk grew as you struggled to hold back, his fingers now moving with more purpose, each touch a mix of pleasure and dominance.

"I-I'm yours" you moaned out, unable to form a coherent sentence "F-Fuck, this feels so good"

He smirked, pleased with your reaction, his thumb brushing over you in just the right way, coaxing even more desperate sounds from your lips. "That's it... let me hear you," he murmured, his voice commanding but still gentle, coaxing out every bit of pleasure as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm.

When he finally couldn’t take it any longer, he scooped you up in his arms again, carrying you toward the shower. The water had begun to steam up the glass as he pressed your back against the cool tiles, the heat from the shower blending with the heat from his body. His lips crashed into yours, the kiss deep, passionate, filled with need. The water poured over both of you, soaking your skin as Oscar's hands roamed your body, his fingers tangling in your hair, his palms gripping your hips, your thighs, every inch of you.

Without breaking the kiss, he dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding down your sides as the water cascaded down your bodies. He kissed your inner thighs, his lips agonizingly slow as they made their way higher, teasing you just as you had done to him before. You could feel the smirk on his lips as he drew closer, his breath hot against your skin, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place.

“You’re my girl,” he said softly, his voice laced with dominance as he looked up at you from his knees. “No one else can have you. Not now, not ever.” Then, without warning, his tongue flicked out, teasing you with the lightest touch. You gasped, your hands instinctively reaching for his hair, gripping tightly as his tongue worked slow, deliberate circles, driving you mad with desire.

His hands roamed your body as he continued his slow torment, one gripping your ass, the other sliding up your back, pulling you closer to him. He was everywhere at once, his touch all-consuming, his tongue alternating between soft strokes and firmer pressure, teasing you, driving you to the edge.

Oscar’s fingers joined his tongue, sliding into you in perfect sync with the rhythm he set, the slow, torturous pace making you tremble. Every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers was designed to push you higher, the tension in your body building with each passing second.

“Tell me how I make you feel,” he whispered between strokes, his breath hot against you, and when you couldn’t answer, too lost in the pleasure, he smirked. “That’s what I thought.” His tongue circled again, his fingers curling just right, and your body responded, arching into him, your grip on his hair tightening as the pleasure became almost unbearable.

He continued to work you over, switching between his tongue and fingers, his touches slow, purposeful, drawing out every sound, every moan. His hands never stopped exploring, roaming your body, massaging your thighs, your hips, your breasts, every inch of you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

When you finally reached your peak, it was as if the world around you disappeared. You shattered against him, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you, and Oscar didn’t stop, carrying you through it, his tongue and fingers still working you until the very last tremor left your body.

“That's it, baby” he whispered softly, his voice a mix of satisfaction and possessiveness as he kissed his way back up your body, pulling you close as the water continued to soak you both.

—————⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺—————

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Taglist @aceyalonso @saachiep81 @landosgirlxoxo @andruuu28 @il0vereadingstuff @silentreader128 @edixttor

#smut #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #friends to lovers #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #fluff #formula 1 smut #mclaren #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #op81 #f1

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deobienthusiast · 5 months ago

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i love you | h. jisung

• pairing: bf!jisung x gn!reader

• genre: unbearably teeth rotting fluff, there’s no angst, this is just about jisung being an absolute loverboy

you bring your boyfriend along to help go grocery shopping, but jisung’s love for you ends up being the cutest distraction.

wc: 1.0k words

warnings: han jisung being an absolute softie for his love, overly cute nicknames. look if you don’t like fluff this isn’t the drabble for you, mmkay.

notes: i have been DEEEEEEEP in my hanji feels. i don’t know where it came from, but i wrote this in thirty minutes at work so here ya go. this isn’t proofread btw.

it wasn’t all that often that jisung had the opportunity to spend time with you. his busy work schedule coupled with your busy school schedule left very little time in between to see the other. you both made it work, though.

there was nothing jisung loved more than spending time with you. when you told him at the beginning of your relationship that your love language was quality time, jisung took that shit seriously. any waking moment of free time he had, jisung was at your doorstep. you have a doctor’s appointment; jisung was there. having a study session? jisung lended his quiet company as a form of support. even something as little as going to the grocery store. jisung was stuck to your side like glue.

“sungie, you don’t have to come with me.” you told him as you made long strides to keep up with him.

jisung saw your grocery list hanging on your fridge and took it upon himself to drag you to the store.

he pulled you along the sidewalk, turning ever so slightly so he could see your face. he gave you a large, lopsided grin as he shrugged.

“you didn’t have to. i just want to spend some time with you.” jisung counters.

you chuckled. “even at the crowded grocery store?”

jisung slowed up slightly, allowing you to catch up with him. “if it means you get what you need, i can handle it.”

you pecked his lips, causing a blush to creep onto his face. “my hero.”

this time you took the lead, pulling jisung into the store. he watched you navigate your way through the aisles, slowly but steadily, running your fingers across the tags to read the prices of certain items.

he could watch you do this every minute of every hour of every day. it never got old to him. you were everything to him. his friend felix liked to say you were the entire galaxy in his eyes. jisung would get teased that anytime he was looking at you, he was doing so with the most obvious heart eyes. jisung didn’t care. jisung lived and breathed quality time with you.

everything was absolutely perfect when jisung was with you. birds chirped a little louder, the wind blew a little softer, the sky lit up a little more blue. life was perfect with you.

jisung. jisung.

“han jisung!” you shouted, making your boyfriend jump.

he shook his head, looking around to familiarize himself with his surroundings as he looked back at you. you had a shit-eating grin growing behind your hand as you giggled.

“i, im sorry. i didn’t hear what you said.” jisung mumbled softly, becoming embarrassed.

a pout crossed over your features as you pulled the boy in for a kiss, your hands gripping his face tightly. instinctively, his hands went right for your hips, holding on to you tightly as if you might float away.

you pulled away, giving his cheeks a soft squeeze as you whispered. “focus.”

jisung nodded almost immediately. “yeah, im focused. totally focused over here.”

you smiled as you went back to grocery shopping. there was no hold, however, on jisung’s hand and your boyfriend began to pout.

“baby,” jisung whined.

you giggled. “yes my love?”

jisung stopped. “you’re not holding my hand.”

you turned to look at him. “because im holding things, jisung.”

immediately jisung took off to the front of the store. you didn’t even bother to try and keep up because before you knew it he was back in front of you with a shopping basket. taking the items from your arms, he laid them in the basket.

he held out his free hand. “here.”

you narrowed your eyes playfully as you turned around, ignoring the boy.

jisung’s mouth was agape as he jogged to catch up with you. he cut you off, stepping in front of you.

“hold my hand.”

you put your hands on your hips. “jisung, don’t start.”

the boy pouted before stomping his foot, making you grab his hand to keep him from further embarrassing himself and you in front of the aisle of people.

“fine, you big baby.” you whisper-yelled.

jisung cheered softly as you dragged him to the frozen section. you looked over the different flavors as you began to contemplate what to buy for yourself and your boyfriend.

“jisung, what do you want?” you asked.

jisung was, once again, not paying attention. he couldn’t help it. he was really trying, but when it came to you, all he can do is just admire you.

“yes,” you heard jisung say, making you laugh.

you turned to the boy and felt your face heat up. there was your handsome boyfriend, in all of his glory, looking at you like you were his entire world. it wasn’t unusual for jisung to do this. you had been told time and time again about the fact that jisung looks at you like that. this just happened to be the first time that you had ever caught him doing it in public.

you looked away really quick, reaching into the cooler to grab a pint of ice cream as a way of distracting yourself from your boyfriend’s adoring eyes.

“jisung,” you began.

“yes?”

“stop staring at me like that.” you told him.

a small smile grew on his face. “i’m in love with you.”

this time a smile bloomed on your face. “you’re too cute.”

jisung pulled you into him, nuzzling his face into your neck. “say it back.”

his words were muffled as he spoke right into your skin, making you laugh.

jisung lifted his head slightly, catching the beautiful smile he loved so much. he nudged you with his head.

“say it back.”

you couldn’t help but nudge him back. “i love you, han jisung.”

your boyfriend pecked your cheek as you spoke again. “now come on. we gotta get the ice cream back home before we eat it here in the store.”

as you pulled away, jisung kept a hold of your hand as he spoke again. “i love you.”

you giggled, making jisung smile. “i love you too, loverboy.”

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sscieloz · 8 months ago

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Collide

Huh Yunjin x 6th member!reader

Synopsis: you can’t take your eyes off her, specially when she’s dancing. thankfully, yunjin makes sure to put up a show for you.

Warnings: suggestivee. safe for work ma babes ^^

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: I SHALL PERSEVERE. fuckass writers block 😤. i will noooooot proofread this ^^

“Oh my God. Are you ok?” Yunjin asks, turning her attention away from her choreography as soon as she catches you desperately choking on water.

You throw your phone on the other side of the couch— as well as the bottle you were holding, in hopes of controlling the coughing fit that has you shaking rather violently. Still trying to gasp for air, you manage to nod, thumbs up to let Yunjin know you’ll most likely live.

“Just fine.” Your voice comes in between breaths, still accompanied by weakened coughs. “I drank too much at once.”

She giggles, walking towards the couch so you can sit side by side. You make sure to grab your phone back so your bandmate doesn’t reckon the cause of your coughing fit: scrolling through TikTok, you found a fan cam of the red-haired girl performing at their showcase just days ago.

Her bare waist, tight cropped and low-waisted jeans were enough for you to breathe in deeply, looking anywhere in the empty room but at her; carefully to not be reminded of the sin that was your bandmate’s body. Not only that, but the way she moved, too— sharp and flawless, skilled as she played with her hair and bit her lip while looking at the damn camera. Yunjin is well aware of how hot she is, and she sure as hell makes good use of that when performing.

It’s torture.

“Are you sure?” She frowns, and it’d be adorable if your mind wasn’t clouded by how she’d react if you just pushed her down the small sofa and ruined her relentlessly until someone had to barge in, worried about the screams coming from the room— only to find her whimpering under your touch, begging for more. “Your face is all flushed, and your skin feels hot. Y/n, are you sick?”

You shake your head, doing your best to duck from your bandmate’s attentive touches. It’s comforting to have her hand cupping your cheek, but her touches are electrifying. A single brush of her fingers is and your heart skips a beat, along with a familiar ache that starts growing in your core.

“It’s nothing, unnie. Don’t worry.” Her smile is so pretty. She loves to be loved by you. “You might want to take a small break, though. Come on, you’ve been here for hours already! Don’t push yourself too hard.” You offer, even though it’s obvious she’s going to decline. Yunjin’s too much of a perfectionist, so much so that it’s incredibly common to find her in that same practice room during late hours of the night, rehearsing the group’s choreography so she’ll be nothing but perfect once they go on stage.

The hate train Lesserafim’s been receiving has been getting to her, you know it as much. It’s easy to see in her chapped-off nails, disheveled hair, and how she never stays still, due to the amount of coffee she consumes on a single day. She’s too hard on herself, and you wish she’d open up more. How much better would it be if she just didn’t bottle it up so much, and relied on you instead? You’re bandmates, after all.

Touchy as she’s always been, Yunjin grabs your hand and leads you to the middle of the dance room, in front of the mirror. You’re left standing awkwardly, with a confused face until she rushes back with a chair. “Actually, I needed your help with something.” She gestures for you to sit, which you do. “It’s my turn to record something for TikTok, and manager-im asked it to be a dancing piece. Can you tell me if it’s good?”

You gulp when she launches her jacket lazily onto the ground, setting up her song of choice on her phone. The beat starts slow as the singer’s sweet voice echoes through the room, and Yunjin walks towards you in unhurried, precise steps. There’s not enough air, with all your mind clogged by her, and you can feel the slick dripping from your cunt. Once she finally reaches you… it’s insane. Her fingers brush your collarbone, the shadow of a proper touch has you shivering as she places both of her hands on your elbows and pushes herself down, her hips swirling just as the melody drags on— you can’t do anything but hold her by the hips, adding pressure to her rocking back and forth in your lap.

Her covered cunt brushes against yours and it’s the best feeling you’ve ever experienced; it feels heavenly, to have the friction just right where you need it. Yunjin’s arms go up in an arched movement, leaving her pretty neck all exposed. It’d be so easy to just push her in and suck on her porcelain skin until no makeup could hide such hickeys. Along with the song, she breathes in, which rides her crop top enough that you can see her lack of a bra.

It’s borderline painful: the way her actions lit your body on fire, the desperate need for more, the way she does a hair flip, still so attentive to the music you don’t even hear anymore. The only bang in your head comes from the pleasure building up down in your lower abdomen, waiting. Anticipating.

Yunjin grabs you by the neck just as the chorus hits, brushing her mouth against yours. She makes her way down to your neck, teasing her teeth against your clavicle whilst her other hand toys with the hem of your sweatpants, tapping in the right rhythm. “Do you want it?”

“More than anything.” Your response comes immediately. You’re soaked, and there’s nothing more in the world you want more than for her to touch you. “Please, Jen… Want your fingers inside.”

Yunjin is always eager to please, and you’re so glad for that. Her hand makes her way past your panties, and she smirks once she’s met with the mess you’ve made. “Does my dancing turn you on that much?” Her sultry tone does nothing but entice your moans, “Oh, Y/n… that’s pathetic.”

In any other situation, you’d give her mockery an answer just as filthy. But as her fingers brush your slit, gathering slick as Yunjin uses your juices to press her thumb on your clit, you can only muster a loud whine. Tangling your arms under her neck, you lift your hips a bit further, in hopes of having more.

More. It’s all you want. You need more.

“Jen, f-fuck. Please, I need—“ Two of her fingers enter your cunt unannounced, making you grasp. Yunjin’s movements are just as precise as her choreography, thrusting in and helping with the ache in your pussy right where you need it.

You’re not proud of how lewd you sound, all at your bandmate’s mercy as she fastens her pace on your dripping sex. She’s still in your lap, and the combined pressure feels just perfect.

Yunjin’s mouth leaves a trail of kisses in the valley of your boobs, her wet, cherry lips enticing the fire in your body. “I know what you need, baby. Just let go for me, you can do it.”

One command of hers and the tingling sensation that has been building up in your body explodes, allowing you to feel the wave of pleasure you’ve been so eagerly anticipating from the moment you entered the room. You cum with a high cry, with Yunjin’s fingers going even faster as you ride out from your orgasm. It’s not enough, though — you still need more. You think she’s going to give it to you, but your friend’s fingers retreat completely.

Yunjin’s left you a breathless mess, hot and bothered and just so desperate to have her in any way as you stare at her, hopeless and confused.

“Why’d you stop?” You whine, puting.

Yunjin laughs at the sight of your puppy eyes, so big and watery from frustration.

“Because that was it.” Her answer is resolute as if she didn’t make you cum seconds prior. With a fake frown, she adds, “Should I post it? Is it good enough?”

Taking a deep breath, you bite your lip as your hands find their way to her waist, bringing her to your lap once again. Even the smallest amount of friction _hurts_, from how horny you are, and you wince.

Noticing your struggles, Yunjin giggles as she leaves small, wet kisses on your jaw. You decide to play coy, too, “Not at all. In fact, I think you need a lot more practice. Go again, from the beginning… please?”

Yunjin laughs so hard she drops her head back, pinching your nose. “Sure, baby. I think so too.”

You kiss her again, exploring your way into her pretty mouth as your hands lift her shirt, groping her tits. Yunjin makes an effort to be perfect, and you’re so glad for her hard work.

“Oh, and Y/n?” She calls you, her tone all innocent. Yunjin’s lips are addicting, and she’s such a good kisser… it’s nearly impossible to focus on anything else. You hum in acknowledgment, and that seems to be enough for her, “You should lower your phone’s brightness before watching my thirsty edits, next time.”

You’d for sure choke again, if it weren’t for her devious laugh, silencing your shock with her sultry movements on your lap.

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #sol writes #huh yunjin x you #huh yunjin x reader #huh yunjin smut #huh yunjin imagines #huh yunjin x y/n #lesserafim imagines #lesserafim x reader #lesserafim smut #Spotify

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tiiraameesu · 1 month ago

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The One That Got Away Pt. 3

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

PART ONE | PART TWO

Synopsisજ⁀➴ Gojo is a charismatic college student, known for his carefree approach to relationships, never letting things get too serious. You are his longtime best friend and have quietly harbored feelings for him but never acted on them, knowing Gojo’s aversion to commitment. But when Gojo shares an unexpected connection with another girl, the dynamics between them start to shift. As the lines blur between friendship and something more, you are left grappling with your emotions—unsure of whether you'll be able to stay by Gojo’s side, or if it’s time to move on.

tagsજ⁀➴ college au, hockey player!gojo, band member!reader, angst, slow burn, eventual friends to lovers (maybe), gojo is dumb af, you might dislike gojo in this im sorry, very very mild geto x reader

NOTESજ⁀➴ i feel bad for changing the tags so often bcs i really dont wanna catfish ppl into my story BUT I GENUINELY DIDNT PLAN THIS STORY OUT SO EVEN I DONT KNOW HOW THIS IS GONNA END

wcજ⁀➴ 5.6k

taglineજ⁀➴ @kaemaybae @laviefantasie

The cool breeze cut through the streets, but you barely felt it—your mind too occupied with the thoughts swirling around you. It had been a quiet kind of afternoon, the kind that you could lose yourself in, if only you weren’t so aware of every little thing happening around you.

You were meeting up with Gojo, Geto, and Shoko, as usual. At least, that was what you told yourself when you agreed to tag along. But this wasn’t just any other meetup. Gojo had insisted—practically begged—that everyone finally meet someone important to him.

“It’ll be great!” his voice echoed in your head, far too enthusiastic. “I want you guys to meet Mina properly. She’s really excited to get to know you all, too!”

And so, here you were now. Standing at the corner of a familiar street, waiting at the meetup spot, hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket as the cool breeze nipped at your skin. The streets were quieter than usual, the kind of calm that made you feel more aware of the thoughts swirling in your mind.

Your mind inevitably wandered, drifting to the idea of finally meeting Mina up close. You’d seen her before, of course, but only from a distance. The cheerleading team had always been easy to spot at school events, and you’d watch her from the sidelines, noticing the way she effortlessly blended into the crowd, always smiling, always surrounded by laughter.

There was something almost magnetic about her—something perfect. The way she carried herself, the way her laughter seemed to light up a room. Even from afar, you couldn’t deny that she was stunning. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what it was, but it was obvious. She was the kind of pretty that made heads turn, the kind of perfect that seemed like it belonged next to someone like Gojo. The way they spoke about her, the way he looked at her, it all seemed like the pieces of a picture that fit together so effortlessly.

You tried to push the thoughts away, but they lingered in the back of your mind. Would she really be as perfect in person as she was from a distance? Would she live up to the image you had built in your head without even realizing it?

The sound of footsteps pulling you back to reality made you glance up, only to see Gojo, Geto, Shoko—and Mina, standing with them. She was everything you imagined and more. Pretty, confident, and with a kind of presence that seemed to match Gojo’s energy effortlessly. Your stomach twisted.

As your gaze met Mina’s, you felt a fleeting, sharp pang in your chest. She was even more striking up close—her warm eyes and inviting smile only confirmed what you’d observed from afar. Everything about her seemed effortless, like she belonged with Gojo, almost like she was made for him.

Her eyes caught yours, and there was a brief moment where everything felt suspended—until she broke the silence with a bright, friendly smile. “Hey, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” she said, her voice cheerful, full of sincerity.

You hesitated for just a second, but it was enough for your heart to betray you, tightening in your chest as you forced a smile onto your face. “Yeah, you too,” you replied, hoping your tone didn’t sound as strained as it felt.

Mina’s smile didn’t waver, and for that, you were grateful. “Satoru’s told me so much about you all,” she said, her voice light and warm. “It feels like I already know you guys.”

“Oh, has he now?” Geto chimed in, his voice teasing as he shot a glance at Gojo. “I’m almost scared to ask what he said about us.”

“Don’t worry,” Mina laughed, the sound soft and genuine. “It was all good things... mostly.”

Shoko snorted, crossing her arms. “Knowing Satoru, I wouldn’t be surprised if he exaggerated every story.”

“Exaggerate? Me?” Gojo put a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “I would never!” He turned to Mina with a grin. “Don’t listen to them. I’m the most honest guy you’ll ever meet.”

“Right,” you muttered under your breath, earning a chuckle from Geto beside you.

Mina glanced your way, her smile growing as if she had caught your comment. “You must be the sarcastic one,” she said lightly, her tone playful. “Satoru mentioned that.”

The words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. “Did he?” you managed, keeping your tone neutral, though inside you felt a flicker of something—was it warmth? Embarrassment? Jealousy? You couldn’t tell.

“He said you’re his closest friend,” Mina continued, her sincerity disarming. “That you’ve always been there for him.”

Your throat tightened at that. “Yeah, well,” you said, shrugging as casually as you could manage. “Someone’s gotta keep him in line.”

Mina laughed again, and it was such a soft, genuine sound that you hated how much you wanted to dislike her. But you couldn’t. She was kind, effortlessly charming, and genuinely seemed to care about making a good impression.

“Alright, alright,” Gojo interrupted, throwing an arm around Mina’s shoulder and grinning at all of you. “Let’s get going before Suguru starts roasting me, or Ieiri finds a way to embarrass me.”

“I don’t have to find ways,” Shoko deadpanned, smirking.

As the group started moving, you walked alongside them, listening to their chatter but feeling a little outside of it all. Mina was a natural fit, seamlessly blending into the dynamic like she’d always been a part of it. Watching her laugh with Geto and Shoko, seeing how easily Gojo leaned into her space, it all felt too... right.

You tried to shake off the nagging feeling, reminding yourself that this was what Gojo wanted—to have his friends meet someone important to him. And Mina, in every way, lived up to the role.

Still, as you glanced at them—Gojo’s arm draped over her shoulder, Mina looking up at him with that easy, perfect smile—you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever stop feeling like you were standing on the outside looking in.

The small café came into view, its warm glow spilling out onto the sidewalk. It was cozy, tucked away from the bustling streets, and one of those places that always smelled like fresh coffee and baked goods. Gojo pushed the door open dramatically, holding it for everyone with a grin that was, as always, a little too much.

“After you, my queen,” he said to Mina, bowing exaggeratedly as she stepped inside, laughing softly.

You trailed in last, your hands stuffed into your pockets as you followed the group to a corner booth. The seating arrangement seemed to happen naturally—Gojo slid in first, pulling Mina down beside him, while Shoko casually took the seat across from them. You hesitated a second too long, and Geto nudged your shoulder, gesturing for you to sit beside him.

So you did. Sliding into the seat, you felt Geto glance at you briefly. It wasn’t much, just a quick flicker of his dark eyes, but it carried a weight you couldn’t quite decipher. He didn’t say anything, though, and neither did you.

The chatter resumed easily enough. Gojo was in full swing, dominating the conversation with some ridiculous story about their last mission. Mina listened intently, her laughter ringing out at all the right moments. Even Shoko seemed mildly amused, her smirk betraying her usual cool detachment.

You wanted to focus on the conversation, to lose yourself in the familiar rhythm of your friends’ banter, but your thoughts kept drifting. Mina fit in so well, like she’d always been part of the group. The ease with which she spoke to Geto, how she didn’t hesitate to tease Shoko lightly—it was effortless.

And yet, it made you feel... out of place. Like you were watching it all unfold from behind some invisible barrier.

“You okay?” Geto’s voice was low, quiet enough that it didn’t interrupt the others. His gaze was steady, unreadable.

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Yeah, why?”

“You’ve been quiet,” he said simply, leaning back in his seat. “More than usual.”

“I’m fine,” you replied, forcing a small smile. “Just tired.”

Geto didn’t press further, but the knowing look in his eyes lingered. He was always good at reading people, especially you. It was both comforting and unsettling.

“Hey, you two over there,” Gojo called out, pointing at you and Geto with a playful grin. “Are we boring you or something? You’re awfully quiet.”

Geto raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed. “Not everything needs to be a performance, Satoru.”

Gojo gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest. “A performance? This is entertainment, Sugu! You should be thanking me.”

“More like tolerating you,” Shoko muttered, sipping her coffee.

The table burst into laughter, Mina included. You chuckled along with them, though it felt hollow. As the conversation shifted again, you found yourself stealing glances at Mina and Gojo. The way she leaned into him, how his arm rested casually on the back of the booth behind her—it all felt so natural.

And yet, a part of you wished it didn’t.

The conversation flowed around you, and you caught yourself drifting again, staring absentmindedly at the coffee cup in front of you. It was silly. You had no reason to feel this way—this quiet, gnawing feeling deep in your chest. Maybe it was just the weight of how easily Mina had slipped into this dynamic, how effortlessly she made everyone smile. But you weren’t a child. You weren’t some outsider. You were one of Gojo’s closest friends. So why the hell did it feel like you were on the sidelines?

A sigh escaped you before you could stop it, and you cursed under your breath. Get it together, you thought, forcing your eyes to flick up.

When you did, you found yourself meeting Mina’s gaze. Her expression was warm, a little hesitant, but there was something real there. She wasn’t trying to dominate the conversation or make everything about her, but she was giving it her all, smiling, laughing, and just... being present. It was clear she was genuinely making the effort to be part of the group, to get to know everyone—not just Gojo, but the rest of you too.

And as you watched her, you realized that maybe this feeling of yours wasn’t about her at all. Maybe it was about you. About how, for all your history with Gojo, you’d never felt as though you were part of this easy, natural rhythm before. You’d never had to share him with anyone in this way.

But Mina was doing everything right. She wasn’t overstepping, wasn’t pushing. She just fit. And something about that made you feel like you should try harder, too. It wasn’t about competition; it was about inclusion.

You cleared your throat, feeling an odd shift in the air. It was time to say something. Something that would help her feel even more welcome, even though the jealousy—small as it was—still lingered under the surface. It was ridiculous to feel threatened by her. She wasn’t taking Gojo away; she was just adding to the group dynamic.

You took a deep breath, pushing the weight of your lingering thoughts aside. You couldn’t afford to let this strange unease keep creeping in. It wasn’t fair to either of you, and especially not to Mina, who was genuinely trying to be a part of the group and you weren’t going to let the discomfort linger anymore.

"So, tell us more about yourself, Mina," you said, trying to keep it light, leaning back in your seat. "We know the basics, but I feel like there's so much more to you."

Mina's face lit up at your question, the shift in energy already palpable as she relaxed. Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she thought for a moment, clearly appreciative of your effort to make her feel a part of the group.

"Well, where do I even start?" she said with a little laugh, running a hand through her hair. "I guess, I’m a cheerleader, obviously," she added, her smile a little sheepish. "But it's not all flips and chants, you know? I mean, I do it because I genuinely love it—there’s something about being part of the team, getting everyone hyped up, and seeing everyone come together that feels... energizing."

You nodded, genuinely interested. "Yeah, that makes sense. You seem like you enjoy it."

Mina grinned, clearly relieved to be asked about something she was passionate about. "Definitely! It's a lot of hard work, though. You wouldn’t believe how much practice goes into it, especially with the team. I’m always on my toes—literally. Plus, we’ve got some pretty intense competitions coming up, so it's been non-stop."

As Mina spoke, her voice full of warmth and excitement, you couldn't help but smile. It was hard not to be drawn in by her energy, the way she lit up when she talked about cheerleading and the team. There was something infectious about her enthusiasm, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to let go of that gnawing discomfort, just listening to her without any reservations.

You watched as her hands moved animatedly, illustrating her points about the intensity of practice and the thrill of the competitions. Her passion for what she did was evident in every word she spoke. Despite the strange tangle of emotions that still simmered inside you, a part of you couldn't help but admire her. She was so effortlessly likable, so kind, and it was impossible not to feel a sense of warmth toward her.

It was ridiculous, really. Mina was Gojo’s girlfriend now, and you were here, in the moment, enjoying the conversation. The past was just that—the past. You were here, part of this group, and that’s all that should matter. So you smiled, genuinely, as she finished talking, and offered her an encouraging nod.

It didn’t take long for the conversation to shift. Mina glanced around, and then her gaze settled on you, a curious expression in her eyes.

"So," she began, her tone light and friendly. "What about you? What do you do outside of all this college stuff?"

Before you could respond, Geto leaned back in his chair, glancing at you with that usual smirk. "Ah, she's in a band," he said, his voice laced with an easy-going amusement. "Plays guitar, right? You should ask her to play something sometime. She’s got skills."

As soon as Geto finished speaking, Gojo shot forward in his seat, practically bouncing with excitement. “Oh, you have no idea,” he said, eyes wide as he turned to Mina. “She’s the guitarist, and let me tell you, she's a legend. Plays it like it’s an extension of her body. I swear, every time she picks it up, it’s like magic happens.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up as you shot him a glare, trying to push down the embarrassment. He had this uncanny ability to make you feel like the center of attention without even trying, but right now? You just wanted to crawl into a hole.

"Gojo, please," you muttered, rubbing your face in mock frustration, though part of you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he was being.

“No, no,” Gojo insisted, practically grinning ear to ear. “You need to hear her play, Mina. She’s got this raw, natural talent—totally different vibe from anything you’ve ever heard. Honestly, I’d go so far as to say she's got the kind of skills that could put some of those big-name bands to shame.”

Mina’s eyes widened, clearly impressed, while you tried not to visibly cringe. “Wow, really?” she asked, clearly intrigued. “I can’t believe I didn’t know that about you! What kind of music do you play?”

You felt yourself squirm a little under the attention, but you forced a small, humble smile. “I mean, Satoru’s just exaggerating,” you said, glancing over at Gojo with a playful roll of your eyes. “But I do love playing. It’s just... it’s kind of my thing. My band’s mostly into indie—nothing too fancy, just some good tunes to vibe to.”

Mina nodded, clearly still intrigued, but before she could say anything else, Shoko, who had been quietly observing the exchange, chimed in with her usual casual tone.

“Wait,” Shoko said, her eyes flicking toward you with a smirk. “Your band’s got a performance coming up, right? In about a month, I think?”

You blinked, surprised she remembered. "Yeah," you said, your voice a little quieter now, a flicker of nerves showing through. "It’s actually a pretty big one. There’s going to be some scouts there—so it's not just any usual gig. It’s kind of a big deal for us."

Mina’s eyes widened at that, her expression shifting from casual curiosity to genuine interest. “Scouts?” she asked, her tone suddenly serious. “That’s amazing! Is this the kind of thing you’ve been working toward?”

You nodded, trying to keep your composure, but the nerves were creeping in. "Yeah, it’s a big opportunity for the band. We’ve been putting in a lot of work to make sure we’re ready for it."

Mina smiled brightly, clearly impressed. "I can only imagine how exciting that must be. I’m sure you’re gonna kill it. Maybe we should all go and watch!"

Before you could respond, the sound of footsteps interrupted the conversation, and the waitress approached with a tray. As soon as she reached the table, she paused, eyes lighting up as she recognized Gojo.

"I’ve got your usual." She said in a sing-song manner, a casual grin laced on her face.

You watched as she placed the familiar dessert in front of Gojo. It was something you and Gojo had always ordered together over the years. A simple sundae, but it had evolved into something far more unique. Back when you were in middle school and had first ordered this, the two of you had added every weird topping and extra bit you could think of. The first few times you’d order it, the dessert would always get confused or judgmental glances from waitstaff, who had no idea what to make of your creation. Even the newer servers still gave a look of uncertainty when they brought it to you, unsure if they’d gotten it right. But over time, it had become your thing—your signature order.

Gojo grinned like a kid as he slid the dessert between him and Mina, pushing it towards her with an enthusiastic gesture.

“Here you go, babe,” Gojo said, his tone playful. “I know it looks a little… weird but trust me. It’s a masterpiece. Don’t judge it until you’ve tried it.”

Mina hesitated, her gaze flicking between the toppings piled high and the spoon in Gojo’s hand. You could see the skepticism on her face, but after a moment, she took a tentative bite. The way her eyes widened in surprise made it clear she hadn’t expected it to taste that good.

"This... is actually amazing," Mina said, her tone a mix of surprise and approval. “I didn’t think it’d work, but it totally does!”

Gojo laughed, clearly pleased. “Told ya. The best things are always a little unexpected.” His eyes sparkled as he looked at her, clearly proud of the creation.

Unable to continue watching them gush over the dessert, you tore your gaze away and tried to focus on the food being served to the rest of the table. You picked up your fork, trying to push aside the tight feeling in your chest.

Just then, Geto, with his usual smug expression, cut a slice from his pancakes and held the fork in front of you.

“Here,” Geto said with a smirk, as though he were about to do the same thing Gojo had just done. “Open wide.”

You looked up at him in confusion, blinking. “What are you doing?”

Geto didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he nudged his head toward Gojo and Mina, who were now happily discussing the dessert and sharing it between themselves. You could feel the small pang in your chest again at the sight, and Geto must have caught on, because his smirk only deepened.

You couldn't help but flick your gaze back to Gojo and Mina once more, watching the way he smiled at her, the two of them so effortlessly comfortable with each other. A pang of something you couldn't quite place squeezed at your chest, and you quickly averted your eyes.

But as you were met face to face with the pancakes still in front of your face, you looked up at Geto, deadpanning with a frown. “Seriously?” you muttered, your voice tinged with an exasperated sigh. He was still holding the fork out, practically dangling it in front of you like it was some kind of challenge.

With a roll of your eyes, you leaned forward and took the bite from his fork, trying to ignore the feeling of discomfort that was still gnawing at you. The food didn’t help distract from the odd tension building up in your chest, but at least it gave you something to do.

Geto grinned smugly as you ate, clearly pleased with himself. You chewed the bite, trying to push aside the strange, tight feeling in your chest. It wasn’t the food, nor Geto’s teasing, that was bothering you; it was the way Gojo and Mina seemed to be in their own little world. The way Gojo looked at her, the way they laughed together—it all seemed too natural. Too perfect.

Before you could shake off the feeling, Gojo suddenly cut through the moment with an exaggerated, playful tone. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s going on between you two?” He leaned forward slightly, a grin still on his lips, but there was something a little off about his tone—almost as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to be amused or... something else.

You raised an eyebrow, not quite sure what to make of it. “What are you talking about?”

Gojo gestured at you and Geto with his fork. “I mean, you two have been acting like you’re in your own little world since we arrived just now.” His eyes flicked between the two of you, his usual easy grin still on his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Geto shrugged nonchalantly, cutting into his pancakes. “We’re just eating, Satoru. Chill.” He took a bite, clearly unfazed by the question.

Gojo paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on Geto and then on you, as though trying to gauge something. “Yeah, sure, just eating,” he said, but the slight edge in his voice didn’t escape you. He quickly smiled again, though, and his attention shifted back to Mina. “Anyway, you like it, right?” he asked, directing his focus back to her as if to put the moment behind him.

You were still trying to piece together what had just happened, trying to make sense of Gojo’s sudden shift in attitude, but before you could overthink it, you decided to push it aside. It wasn’t worth dwelling on—whatever it was. So you focused back on your food, trying to ignore the small knot of confusion that had formed in your chest. It was probably nothing, right?

You glanced over at Shoko, hoping to distract yourself from whatever had just simmered in the air between you and Gojo. She had been quiet during the entire exchange, but now she was staring at the scene before her, completely deadpan. Her gaze flicked between you, Gojo, and Geto, the only reaction being a slow, unamused blink and a deep, weary sigh.

────────────────────────────────────────────

After the cafe, the atmosphere had softened a bit, but the there was a slight tension from earlier that still hung in the air, mostly because of Gojo. You tried to focus on the lighthearted chatter, but the nagging feeling didn’t completely leave you. Gojo was acting... off, and you couldn’t quite shake the odd feeling in your chest when you thought about how he’d reacted earlier.

The ride back to your apartment was uneventful, the conversation flowing easily between Geto and Shoko while you mostly listened, lost in thought. Gojo, however, seemed quieter than usual, distracted even.

When you arrived at the building, Gojo insisted on coming up with you, claiming he needed a “quick pee” before the drive back. The rest of the group stayed in the car downstairs, which was just fine with you. The lift ride was silent at first, the soft hum of the machinery the only sound between you and Gojo.

Then, Gojo finally broke the silence, his voice light but tinged with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint. “So, you and Suguru seem pretty close these days.”

You glanced at him, brows furrowing a little. “What do you mean?”

Gojo didn’t look at you as he leaned against the wall, arms folded. His tone was nonchalant, but there was something sharp beneath it. “I don’t know, just seemed like you two were... getting along pretty well just now. Spending a lot of time together, more than usual.”

There was a brief pause before he added, almost too casually, “Guess I never really pictured you and Suguru that close. But hey, whatever works.”

You blinked, the words landing heavier than you expected. “We’re just friends, ‘Toru.”

He gave a small, barely noticeable smirk, his eyes still not meeting yours. “Yeah, sure, just friends,” he said, voice a little too easy, but the faint edge in it was still there. He pushed off the wall as the elevator dinged, doors sliding open—but he didn’t step out.

You stepped out of the elevator first, waiting for Gojo to follow, but he didn’t move. Instead, he pressed the button to close the doors, looking at you with a lazy grin.

“Actually, I don’t feel like peeing anymore,” he said, his tone back to its usual playfulness as a chuckle slipped past his lips. “See ya.”

The doors slid shut before you could respond, leaving you standing there, feeling strangely confused.

Gojo leaned against the elevator wall, eyes half-lidded as he watched you step out. He pressed the button to close the doors before you could take another step, the action more impulsive than planned.

“Actually, I don’t feel like peeing anymore,” he said with a playful grin, the words leaving his mouth so easily that even he didn’t think much of it at first. His usual charm was there, but this time, it didn’t feel quite as natural.

You paused, looking back at him, and for a second, there was that expression on your face—confusion, curiosity, the way you always seemed to try and read him. Good luck with that. Even he wasn’t sure what was going on in his head.

Gojo held your gaze for a beat, his smirk faltering just slightly. He could feel the weight of the silence between you two, an awkward tension hanging in the air. But he ignored it. No need to read too much into this, right?

He waved you off, pushing the button again and watching the doors close.

“See ya,” he muttered, though his voice didn’t carry the usual lightness. His mind wandered back to the conversation, or rather, the subtle mention of Suguru.

It was nothing, really. He had no right to feel anything about it but if his best friend was going to get closer to one of his other friends—hell, maybe even start something—he had a right to know, right? Friends should keep each other in the loop, and that was all this was. He wasn’t supposed to care. Not really.

But then, his thoughts lingered on the image of you and Suguru together. Laughing, talking like you were the only two people in the room. He’d seen it, noticed it earlier. And now... it wasn’t sitting right with him.

He rubbed his temples as the elevator doors slid open, stepping out into the dimly lit hallway. Maybe he was just overthinking it. It was just... it was just weird, that’s all. Seeing you with Suguru like that. They were close, sure, but that didn’t mean anything.

Right?

But still, the more he thought about it, the more the thought of you and Suguru together—the way you looked at him, the way your smiles came easy—left a bitter taste in his mouth. He hated it. He hated that feeling. And it made him want to forget about it, brush it off. So he did.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, keeping his gaze forward as he walked away. No need to dwell. It was just one of those things. It didn’t matter.

Gojo barely registered the walk back to his car. His mind was still occupied with the odd heaviness he couldn’t shake, lingering just below the surface. As he reached the vehicle, he opened the door and slid into the driver’s seat, the cool leather beneath him offering little comfort.

He didn’t start the engine right away. Instead, he glanced up at the rearview mirror, eyes landing onto Suguru for just a moment. Suguru, sitting in the back, was engrossed in his phone, probably texting someone he didn’t need to be texting at that hour. Gojo’s gaze lingered on him, but something in the pit of his stomach shifted, and without even thinking, his eyes flickered to the passenger seat.

Mina was there, leaning back with a soft smile, her eyes twinkling under the dim streetlights. She caught his gaze and tilted her head playfully. "Got a good pee?" she asked, her voice light, teasing.

He smirked, the easy expression sliding back onto his face like a well-worn mask. "Yeah," he replied, the word coming too smoothly, almost like he was trying to convince himself. His hand moved instinctively to her thigh, squeezing it lightly as he looked at her, letting the familiarity of her touch settle him.

She didn’t seem to mind, giving him a grin before shifting her focus back to whatever it was she was doing. Gojo’s thumb brushed over her leg absentmindedly, and the motion felt automatic, like he was just doing what he always did.

He started the car, the engine humming to life, and without another thought, he pulled out of the parking spot, heading toward the main road. "I’ll drop you guys off first," he said, his voice casual, still somewhat distant as he motioned to the two at the back with a nudge of his head.

Mina hummed an acknowledgment, and Suguru muttered something from the backseat, but Gojo didn’t really hear it. His attention was elsewhere, pulled back to the fleeting thought of you again—the way you were with Suguru, the way you talked to him. The thought lingered, biting at him more than it should.

He gripped the wheel a little tighter, but it was too late to push the feeling down. It kept crawling back, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

────────────────────────────────────────────

With Geto and Shoko finally sent home, Gojo was nearing the last house – Mina’s. He parked by the sidewalk as they approached the apartment complex and took the elevator up. As they reached Mina's front door, Gojo slowed his steps, hands casually tucked in his pockets. The soft glow of the porch light framed Mina’s face, her features lit with that ever-present, effortless cheerfulness. He always liked that about her—how easy she made everything feel.

"Thanks for sending me home," Mina said, her voice light but tinged with affection.

"Anything for you," Gojo replied smoothly, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. "What kind of guy would I be if I just let you fend for yourself out here?"

She chuckled, shaking her head. "You’re so dramatic."

As she turned to unlock the door, Gojo took a step closer, reaching out. Gently, he placed his hands on her cheeks, his touch warm and lingering. Mina blinked up at him, caught off guard but not uncomfortable. If anything, her grin widened as he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead.

It was slow and deliberate, a soft gesture that made Mina’s eyes flutter shut. Her heart felt light, and when he pulled back, she looked up at him with a contented smile, unaware of the shadow of thought crossing his face.

Gojo’s eyes lingered on her, a furrow forming between his brows as his thumb absentmindedly brushed over her cheek. His expression softened, almost distant, like he was seeing someone else entirely.

“Gojo?” Mina tilted her head, her grin dimming slightly as she studied him. “You okay?”

Her voice pulled him out of his trance, sharp in its difference—cheerful where he’d expected something quieter, something familiar. For just a split second, his hand paused before he masked his hesitation with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, his tone light as always, but Mina caught the way he inhaled deeply, as if to steady himself. “I was just admiring your face. You’re, like, unfairly cute, you know that?”

Mina rolled her eyes with a laugh, her earlier concern dissipating. “Flatterer.”

He took a step back, giving her one last grin. “Goodnight, Mina. Dream about me, yeah?”

She smiled back, waving as she slipped inside, the door closing softly behind her.

Gojo turned on his heel, walking down the path with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His smirk faded as soon as he was out of sight, his mind replaying the moment Mina spoke. The voice he’d expected—it wasn’t hers. And no matter how hard he tried to shake it off, that momentary lapse clung to him like a ghost he couldn’t quite let go of.

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #angst #jjk #jjk x you #jjk x reader #tiiraameesuTOTGA

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dev1lm4n · 1 year ago

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all glory

masterlist | kofi (support me here!)

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel has been feeling insecure, finding it hard to come to terms that he's indeed aging. tommy suggests a clever solution: a post-apocalyptic glory hole

word count: 4.8k of pure filth

warnings: minors dni (18+), post-outbreak, joel is 56 here hehe hot old men, insecurities, glory hole, fingering, unsafe piv, slight breeding kink, no pregnancy stuff tho cuz im terrified of that, reader calls him sir, pet name (darling)

note: i decided to create a kofi bcs im a broke college student lol. anyways hope yall enjoy this, do COMMENT and REBLOG if you enjoyed this :)

Joel Miller had always been a man of confidence.

Being left as a single father for Sarah at an early age, he’s been through thick and thin, trying his best to make ends meet so that they wouldn’t have to end up in one of those run-down shelters. But never once did he question his ability to attract women.

He’s always had it in him. With a mere glance from his expressive eyes, he can ensnare hearts and leave an everlasting impression on anyone fortunate enough to encounter him. Rugged masculinity and striking refinement; a deathly mix that kept girls swarming after him like bees. After the world descended into chaos, he’s not much different either. Perhaps the bone-deep trauma had left him looking eternally exhausted with sunken eyebags, or that gray filaments started becoming a welcomed addition to his beard, but all in all he’s still charming.

He didn’t have to seek, because people seek for him. Joel had plenty of erotic rendezvous in times where society crumbled and the rule of law eroded, more so now that everyday could be his last and he didn’t have the privilege to take it slow like a true Southern gentleman. He’s done it everywhere. Inside a stuffy closet while hiding from a clicking monstrosity, behind a thin wall while her husband sat cluelessly on the other side, and even taking sexual compensation for his little business. Joel Miller wasn’t a saint. Neither he one for God and he’d like to make it obvious.

Nowadays though, within the tall foreboding walls of Jackson City, that type of attention has faded away. He’s no longer getting those longing stares from across the floor, no longer being begged to corrupt just for some extra wad of cards, no longer being flirted and fawned over like a goddamn stud. Joel didn’t have any problem with it at first. He’s growing old. Instead of those naughty strands of white peeking out of his head, he’s now a complete mix of salt and pepper. Instead of just having a fun smile line, forehead rolls and crows’ feet are now imprinted deep into every crevice. Joel wasn’t the man he used to be.

He’s weathered away, he thought, unsuited for fun and adventure.

Perhaps it had something to do with his daughter as well. Even when Ellie’s not from his actual blood, everyone in town viewed her that way. He’s her father. Thus, everyone seemed to perceive and treat him as merely a father and not as an actual person that has his own needs and wants. Joel loved his daughter. Terribly so in ways he couldn’t decipher. A part of him has made up his mind that this would be how he should spend the rest of his life: in celibacy. Though the retirement of his sexual and romantic life has slowly taken a toll towards his self-esteem. Tommy, who’s always known to be rather slow and imperceptive, was surprisingly the first one to take notice of his gradual change.

“Maria told me you might be here.”

Tommy’s gruff voice brought him out of his trance. Joel looked up, meeting the familiar figure crouch to get into his little workshop. It was his newfound hobby these days, becoming a hermit and isolating himself from the community. He’d craft a wooden figure or two each night while he relived each and every one of his memories. Good and bad. Of death and of birth. Then by the end of the night he’d feel mildly satisfied with a wooden sculpture shaped like memorabilia from the old world. Joel couldn’t admit it outloud, but insecurity had taken over him. It festered deep into his soul that he couldn’t even bear looking at himself in the mirror anymore or present himself to society.

“Yeah, just..” he paused to ponder on a better way to answer. “Just doin’ my own thing.”

“You skippin’ dinner again?” Tommy’s curiosity sounded oddly suspicious, enough that Joel already knew he’s about to say something obnoxious or entirely uncalled for. The older quirked his thick eyebrows in return.

“Made myself my own plate,” Joel cocked his head towards where a lone plate sat. Judging from the crimson stain smeared on top, it must’ve been one of those canned pastas that he picked out.

“Brother..” Tommy started out, visibly nervous of how his brother would take it. “Is there something wrong?”

“With me?”

“Yeah, with you.”

“No, not that I could think of,” Joel hummed. “I ain’t bitten or anythin’, why are ya asking such a dumb question anyway?”

“You’re just different these days,” Tommy reasoned with a small frown. “You barely come out of your house and if you do, you’re huddled up in this place, carving things for hours on end.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong with wanting to be alone. Is there?” he challenged.

“No, but you’re.. different. Almost like your mind’s troubled for once.”

“There’s nothin’ wrong, Tommy,” he insisted.

Joel was actively avoiding the accusations. He stood up from where he’s been perched upon for hours on end, bringing his half-carved wooden slab with him to set it on one of the displays he had. He’s grown quite the collection. It’s been going on far longer than he’d expected, the crippling fear of being undesirable and hideous, and it brought up an immense feeling of embarrassment. He couldn’t possibly admit such things to Tommy, could he? Tommy was different from him. His first child was on its way to be birthed, but girls still chatter about his charming smile and strong figure. They’d still gossip and make dirty guesses about his size. How long he endured such activities, the position he enjoyed best, and how sweet he was to his partner.

Tommy couldn’t possibly understand his fear.

“You can’t help me even if I told ya,” he grumbled.

“Put some trust in me, will ya?” Tommy chuckled as he spun around his seat to follow Joel’s every move. “Tell me what’s troublin’ you, big brother.”

“They don’t look at me the same way.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“The ladies,” Joel muttered.

His words were barely above a whisper. It almost seemed as if he saw the phenomenon as something humiliating, up to the point where he couldn’t even look Tommy in the eye in fear of having him laugh. He’s never talked about this with anyone else. It didn’t help that he truly didn’t have anyone to talk to in general aside from the few acquaintances his brother introduced him to and well.. Ellie. But none of them seem to be the right person to talk to regarding this.

Regarding his failure in masculinity. His unspoken worries that he didn’t have any of the strong, chiseled jawline or any of the tightly packed abdomen with six separate squares to admire. He’s grown old and weak. Five years ago, he could’ve probably still sweet-talk his way into a woman's heart, but now he couldn’t even look one in the eye without the fear of being put to shame.

“They still do, Joel,” Tommy assured him. He’s telling the truth. Joel knew that Tommy didn’t have it in him to lie, he’d have sounded like a strangled bird or a squeaky dog’s toy if he did. But his mind couldn’t believe it one bit.

“I don’t know, Tommy..” he muttered. “They don’t look at me the same way. They don’t look at me at all even.. and I’m fine with that I 'spose. I ain’t a whorin’ bastard who couldn’t accept that he’s agin’..”

“But they do, Joel.”

“I’m old,” he sucked in the air. “Lately there are these moments where I.. where I’d look a girl in the eye and all I could feel was humiliation.”

“Humiliation?”

“Like they’re lookin’ at me as if I’m some.. some sort of repulsive creature,” he whispered. “I feel like I could hear ‘em gigglin’ with their girlfriends on how shameless I am.”

Tommy was deduced into silence. Time ticked by as he cranked up his brain to figure out the best way to aid his older brother out of his misery. It’s all in his head, Tommy knew that Joel knew that as well, but it’s easier patching up an oozing wound than a troubled mind. He brought his hand together on top of his jeans as he waited for the younger to make another comment, whether of comfort or of a harsh reality.

“I’ll offer you a solution,” Tommy spoke up. “But you gotta promise not to lose your head over it.”

“It ain’t drugs, is it?”

“No, no..” Tommy chuckled humorlessly.

“I’m open to anythin’” Joel dropped his arms to his side as he curiously eyed Tommy.

“Have you ever heard of a glory hole?”

Joel’s expression contorted in such a way that the younger Miller couldn’t possibly read what he’s thinking any longer.

“I ain’t goin’ outside those borders just to go to some sketchy brothel, Tommy. That’d be pathetic.”

“Well, the thing is this whole operation ain’t sketchy,” Tommy reasoned. “The girls were tested and approved by the local doctor before..”

“Local doctor? You tellin’ me this is happenin’ within Jackson?”

“I operate it, Joel,” he sighed, knowing he’s about to be bombarded with a handful of questions. “And before you ask, no this ain’t considered prostitution as there’s no material exchange.”

“You mean..”

“Yes. The girls do it for free. Volunteers. They do it for their own pleasure and I help make their dreams come true.”

Joel looked at his own brother as if he was a mad man. Who wouldn’t? When he’s just told him that they had an actual glory hole installed without most of the public knowing. Or perhaps they knew, they were just not talking about it in front of Joel.

“Ten to twelve. There’s a small house across the sheep field. One girl every Friday night.”

“Jesus Christ, Tommy. Maria knows about this?”

Tommy shifted uncomfortably on the stool.

“No, but it’s better off she doesn’t.”

Joel felt his morals set askew for a second. This sounded like a terrible idea, despite the fact that he’s confirmed it himself that it’d be the safest a glory hole could possibly be. He scratched his beard and took it into deep consideration.

In the quiet stillness of a winter’s night, the world was wrapped in a soft, white blanket of snow. The moon hung low in the dark sky - a beacon towards those who chose to travel in the deepest hours of nighttime. Joel blew puffs of warm air onto his gloved fingertips, hoping it’d satiate the coolness that made his joints ache and his skin itch. The air was crisp and biting, each breath producing a frosty cloud which quickly amalgamated into the air. He watched as gentle snowflakes, alike to elegant ballet dancers, fell from the heavens up above and twirled and swirled into an intricate pattern. He’s been waiting for way too long.

“So what are ya sayin’? Are you gonna let me take you tomorrow night?” Tommy broke the silence.

Tommy promised to meet him on the edge of the sheep field, where they’d herd livestocks all throughout the warmer times of the year, but he’s yet to see his tall nose and dark hair from any of the cardinal directions. He’s been waiting for too long to keep the same mindset Tommy’s trained him into, that this was simply a beneficial exchange for every party involved and that he shouldn’t feel shameful for something so instinctive. Waiting gave him time to weigh out the cons, how this was naturally an act of debauchery that wounded both his moral values and beliefs. He ain’t a God preacher, but he’s sure to keep some of those Southern manners.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

None of Tommy’s ideas are ever well thought out. Starting from his sudden gravitation towards the military, to his desires to hand over his entire life towards the Fireflies, and now this. He knew his younger brother wasn’t the brightest of men, but creating an entire glory hole to keep the town’s morale up might be the stupidest one he’s heard yet. Especially when Maria’s not aware of it. He feared for the day when the beans spilled out of its jar, but tonight wasn’t that day. During the time in which he contemplated his decisions, Joel didn’t notice the crunching of snow against thick boots. Tommy was here and he looked far too calm for a self-made procucer.

Tommy beckoned him to follow the path his boots had made. Joel sucked in some of that painfully cold air into his lungs, before he stuffed his hands in his pockets and started trailing along. There were a few street lamps across the field, a ruddy glow emanating from them as they were adorned with a light dusting of snow. He kept his guards up while he scanned through the whistling field of crop, that traumatized part of him always keeping in check of abrupt movements and unsettling sceneries. After a quiet walk for a good three minutes, they finally arrived. The house fronts looked dark enough, and the windows even darker, contrasting with the smooth white sheet of snow upon the roofs.

There was snow piling up outside as well, dirtier ones whose last deposit had been plowed up in deep furrows by the heavy wheels of carts and wagons. He scrutinized over the tracks, wondering if this was meant to be used as a makeshift grain tower. If it was, then Tommy must’ve been a great scheming asshole to turn such a place into his own little heaven. Not one soul was around, which confused Joel even more. Wasn’t this supposed to be a public glory hole? Weren’t it supposed to be disgustingly packed with sweating men, adorned with walls covered in left-over spurts of cum and other bodily fluids, and smelled like sex itself?

Joel continued to pursue Tommy even when he’s overly skeptical about this entirely new scene. His boots were scuffed as he was dragging his feet through the front door, a fight against his defense system that’s begging him to flee out the door at the unfamiliarity. The establishment consisted of a long narrow hallway that eventually led up to an imposing door. Wooden, large, and mysterious.

To his surprise, what was beyond that door wasn’t some tacky sex dungeon with rattling chains and leather whips, it was a modest looking box. Square, he’d assume one meter wide and half a meter tall. He took in the wood it was made from. His pointer finger slowly traced the circumference out of habit. Oak, he concluded, making it sturdy and cool even in the warmer weather. What he failed to notice from the get-go was a pair of legs that were stretched open, chained onto the wall from the considerably-sized gap. Joel’s heart dropped to his stomach, he forgot for an entire minute what he was planning to do, and he’s starting to get cold feet.

“Darlin’, I’ve got someone for you,” Tommy cooed.

“You do, Tommy?”

Normally, people acquire hobbies in order to soothe their brief but occasional boredom, though you have discovered a unique way to tackle long hours of the night. This brilliant discovery of yours was birthed from a fated moment. One where you accidentally stumble across the conversation Tommy had with one of his patrol friends. It began a fantasy in your head. One you didn’t believe could come true until you overheard a passionate storytelling session one of the barmaids gave their friend. Only then did you gather enough courage to talk to Tommy about it. Despite his initial disapproval, saying things like you look too good and gentle to be doing such things, you managed to convince him with a week's worth of nagging.

“Mhm, one of my good friends here,” he hummed. “You’ll let him use you like a good fucking girl, won’t you?”

Goosebumps trailed from your backbone down to where your legs spread wide. Your nervousness made you flinch, effectively causing your legs to rattle against the metal restraints.

“Yes, I will, Tommy.”

When did you get so.. obedient?

“Alright then. I’ll see you in um.. twenty?”

“Thirty,” the foreign voice spoke up, masculine with a twinge of accent.

“Thirty it is.”

The entire room went quiet for an entire minute, only then did you finally hear the door slammed back shut. You swallowed back the throbbing fear in your heart, pushing back those persistent thoughts constantly warning you of the dangers. Even if you trusted Tommy with all your life, you didn’t trust the random strangers Tommy’s picked out. How could you trust them when you didn’t know who they were for sure? They could’ve been someone you see on the daily. The friendly guards, the cafeteria guy who’d always beam a sweet smile your way and give out more bread than standard, or even.. Tommy’s hunk of a brother. The same one who wouldn’t even spare you a look when you’re obviously sending heart eyes his way.

“Darlin’ is your name, ain’t that right?”

There was something so.. alluring about his voice. The type that makes your knees buckle inevitably, despite your best efforts to push it apart.

“That’s right,” you squeaked out.

“Darlin’, it’s been a long long time since I’ve done this, so let me indulge in you alright?”

“Okay,” you breathed out unsurely.

Your eyes instinctively followed the direction of the hushed voice, but all you could see from the dim box was a piece of dark fabric that was hung from above the hole. It was to keep your identity a secret so that the patrons across from you could only see you from the belly button down. Though now you felt more inclined than ever to pull on the draping and meet this man’s eyes. Your thoughts soon diminished when you felt a large hand over your inner thighs. Nowhere dangerous, just resting below where your kneecaps sat. You closed your eyes to try and envision the kind of hands touching you.

Were they soft and unsullied like a baby’s bum? Or were they rough and ridged with years of work?

That large hand traveled down South, inching with an irritatingly slow pace down towards where you ached the most. He was a fair man. He treated both of your thighs in the same manner before the two gathered together in a v-shape over your cotton panties. You wondered if you should’ve worn something more enticing, something which suited a person like you - someone willing to spread their legs for a true stranger. But the man on the other side didn’t seem to have a problem. He didn’t seem like he was bothered by the simplicity of your presentation, instead he was keen on pressing his thumb down the center.

They were the latter.

His fingers were textured and it felt too good to be true. At the briefest touch, you followed after his movement, hips reaching further up to chase after his departing touch. You whined. Frustrated that he’s cruel enough to press your sensitive clit and leave you all hot and bothered. He let out a deep chuckle, one that came out from the depth of his stomach as he placed his thumb back where it belonged. Your hole clenched and unclenched at the stimulating sensation. Your cotton panties seemed to be a great aid for your needy clit. It felt similar to grinding over a pillow, just this time, it felt a lot more real and animated.

“How long have you been doin’ this, darlin’?”

“Doin’ what, sir?”

So polite. It’s laughable the fact that you’re so soft spoken. Your lips spilled out a gentle moan as his thumb dug deeper into that sensitive spot.

“Lettin’ strangers fuck you,” he was frank with his words that’s for sure.

“This is my first time.. in the box that is,” your voice cracked almost immediately under pressure. “Been thinking of this for a long long time though.”

The gruff man hummed noncommittally as he continued to please you with his thumb. You used to be shy when it comes to being reactive during intercourse, but with the box, it almost felt like you could finally be your true primal self with your utmost carnal desires. He slowly eased your stained panties to the side once he saw an increasingly growing wetness, knowing that it’s time to move on to his next way of torture. Your pussy was exposed to the cool air immediately, it felt like the air was nipping at the sensitive skin all around. He took his two fingers - his middle and pointer finger being his favorite choice despite the controversy - and slowly dragged it atop the slick canal.

“A pretty girl like you gettin’ all wet from a little touchin’,” he chided. “You haven’t been fucked well or somethin’?”

What a considerate man. He called you pretty when he could barely tell what you look like.

“No, maybe, I-” you were flustered. You’ve never had to exchange proper talk when someone’s touching your dirty, wet cunt. “None of Jackson’s men did good. That’s why I hoped..”

Your voice trailed off into a garble of nonsense when he teased at your entrance, trying to decide whether you’re soaked enough to push a finger in comfortably. You whined, louder this time, as your legs fought against the uncomfortable metal cuffs wrapped around your ankle. He decided to play nice for once and made your dreams come true by inserting that thick finger of his. Fingering has never felt good for you, it always felt like an intrusion rather than a welcomed feeling, but he’s making it feel like heaven on earth.

“Hoped a stranger would fuck me well enough,” you took awhile to finish that statement.

He let out one of those noises of disapproval, at your skewed moral direction perhaps or at the tone of desperation your voice must’ve let out. You could only suck in a shallow breath when he started making proper, continuous motions with his finger. He pushed upwards to poke the tip of his finger onto that squishy part, playing around to find out where exactly made you react the most. You loved how he’s patient. You’re half-expecting the men to just stuff their cocks in you like you’re some sex doll instead of taking their time, which you don’t mind either. Half the pleasure was from being treated like nothing.

“Dirty gal,” he degraded, which you found both surprising and exciting. “Just wanted her pussy stuffed with any cock she could have, hm?”

Your hips thrusted up at a larger interruption. This time, the man managed to insert two of his thick fingers inside your eased cunt. He twisted it one-hundred-eighty degrees to the left, then back to the right, before he curled it in a come-here motion. The motion had left you dumb. A combination of ah ah ah’s and unfinished pleads for him to keep still. The man never once fully removed his fingers out of you. He’d slowly pull back to only have a single knuckle stuck inside before pushing it all the way in once more. For once, someone didn’t finger you like you’re a pizza dough waiting to be pounded.

“A-ah, sir. I really.. mmh- I really like that,” you moaned out shamelessly. “Feels really good in my.. in my pussy.”

“You like what, darlin’?”

“Like your fingers.. fingers in my ah- ah pussy!” you whined when he deepened his reach by rotating his wrist upwards. “Something- fuck- something’s coming! Please.. Please don’t sto-”

You warned him like a goddamn virgin and there it was, you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the way your pussy squelched around his finger at the new wave of sticky fluids. The noises were filthy and lewd that you were embarrassed for the first time that night. It coated your throbbing cunt and slowly ebbed out of your hole, dribbling down onto the wooden floor boards under. Strings of almost translucent thickness proof of his success. It’s pretty. The way you gaped around his fingers, tightened and relaxed at his fingers that still kept you full.

“Good girl,” he cooed.

He must be experienced, because he was quick to rub your clit precisely as you went through the throes of orgasm. His broad palm never missed where that bundle of nerves were, until you’re dripping all over the place. Only when you’re right towards the end did he land a small smack atop your pussy, keeping pressure where your womb is to maintain the pleasure for as long as you could. It felt like this wasn’t a shit place for once. It felt like this stranger could surely turn the flesh-eating monsters into a field of rainbows and flowers from how good he’s making you feel.

“You taste sweet,” he muttered. “Someone ever told you that?”

It took you a while to notice that his fingers weren’t there to stuff you full. He was busy tasting you. You could imagine him on the other side of the room, rough fingers deep in his mouth, drenched in your arousal. The thought made you squirm, growing wet once more. You shook your head as his hand slid back up. His fingers ran over your clit with one long stroke before they stayed there. His thumb sat right atop the throbbing spot, unmoving.

"Perfect little thing, ain't ya?” he asked, and you nodded, your muscles tense as anticipation ran high. "Gonna fill you up real nice."

As soon as the dull tip of his cock prodded against your entrance, your whole body convulsed. Tears slowly crept into your eyes, frustrated, you might as well cry out a pathetic plea if he kept on stalling. Your palms banged flat against the side of the box. Overwhelmed and on the verge of tears when he purposefully missed your weeping hole. His length slid upwards, the warm tip rubbed against your clit from below before it shied away once more. Your toes curled and he must’ve taken the hint from behind the curtains.

The perfect stranger pushed himself up to where his mushroom-like tip ended, allowing you to adjust to the dimensions of his cock before he eased himself deeper.

You let out a strained moan.

You almost bump the top of your head on the oak boards when he forced his way in. His cock was fully inside you at last. You were ecstatic. Eyes shut close as you bit into your bottom lip, flesh tearing beneath your canines. It was too much all of a sudden. Too good. Too large. Too full. You could hear the loud squelching noise your spongy hole made as he pulled back and stuffed himself back in.

“Fuck,” he groaned silently. “Don’t squeeze around me, darlin’. You're gonna get me in big trouble.”

He chuckled and fuck did it sound so hot.

You felt his fingers gently reach for the width of your hips. His grip was tight and harsh as he guided your every movement with them. He thrusted like a man on a shooting range, with much precision and prowess. You liked this. Liked feeling as if you’re just a doll for people to use and dump their loads in, especially when it's for someone like him. His cock made you writhe and fight against the metal cuffs holding your legs up. Eager to have him speed up to meet your desires yet he was persistent in keeping a stable speed. The sensation was growing. Slowly but surely.

“A-ah.. mmph.. oh God!”

“God ain’t here to save you, darlin’. It’s just this old man right here,” he cooed crudely.

He made sure to keep you full at all times. Never once did his perfectly-sized cock leave your sloppy hole, it just kept on twitching and growing in size with the help of your warm embrace. “You like this, don’t ya?”

“Oh- oh yes. I like it. Love your..,” he stopped your lewd confession by placing his thumb back atop your once neglected clit, drawing lazily with what’s left of your wetness. You could feel him starting to seep. A tinge of his own arousal mixing in with yours. “Cock! Love your c- cock.”

His heavy pants started to intensify in volume, such a lovely melody when combined with your pathetic whimpers. He’s close.

“Gonna cum in you, darlin’” he muttered out breathlessly. “Gonna make sure you’re all fucked out with my cum.”

You couldn’t think straight. Not when you’re on a highway to heaven. Your little hole tightened, so eager to milk him dry.

“Yeah, you’d like that, won’t you?”

“O-oh.. oh yes. Please.. fuck,”

“Please?”

“Please fill me up.”

His tip started oozing out ribbons after ribbons of cum, quickly filling you up relentlessly. Though he hasn’t stopped bottoming himself up into you. His load sloshed around, coated his length a perfect milky shade, and dribbled down your rear deliciously. Did you really just let a complete stranger fill you up to the top? Did you truly just let him pour his seed up your needy hole?

Maybe you did.

And maybe it’s reckless.

But oddly enough, you don’t feel too bad about it.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #tlou fic #tlou #the last of us

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bruhnze · 3 months ago

Text

PLAYING FOR KEEPS

CHAPTER 5 – A great arrangement

Summary: Ona Batlle has had a crush on Lucy Bronze for a little while now… how will it go when she joins Barça? A 10 chapter series.

Warnings: Slow burn, angst, fluff, smut. All the things, but I give this as a complete warning for the whole series. Not every chapter involves all the warnings :).

note: i have about 3 braincels and only one of them knows english, if the dialogue in this thing is not making sense, im sorry :) i couldn't think during proofread so idk if things work or not.

masterlist

October 21, 2023: vs. Granada CF (6-1, home) November 5, 2023: vs. Sevilla FC (8-0, home)

2023 – Spain

The sun had started to dip low in the sky as Lucy and Ona walked side by side. Their dogs, Narla and Coco, walked happily ahead of them on their leashes. It was one of those evenings where everything felt easy. The conversation between them was light, their footsteps in sync, the quiet moments comfortable.

They had been walking like this together after training for weeks now, both settling into a routine that felt natural. But these last days it had been a little bit different then before. Something had happened between them and they hadn’t spoken about it since.

As they neared Lucy’s place, Lucy glanced over at her. “You want to come inside? Have a drink before heading back to yours?”

Ona hesitated for a moment. Where they finally going to talk about the tension that followed them after what had happened the other night? “Yeah, sure,” she said with a small smile. “Sounds good.”

They walked inside, a cozy home greeting them in contrast to the chilly wind blowing outside.

Narla and Coco curled up on the couch, happy to rest after the walk.

Lucy headed to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing water to pour two glasses.

She handed a glass to Ona and sat down beside her on the sofa, the space between them almost nonexistent as she settled in close.

“Thanks,” Ona murmured before taking a sip.

Her gaze flickered toward Lucy, feeling the shift in the air between them. There had been simmering a lot of tension beneath the surface that neither of them had really addressed.

They sat in silence for a while, sipping their waters.

It was Lucy who eventually broke the silence. She set her glass down on the coffee table and turned slightly toward Ona, her expression thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking a little bit,” she began, her voice measured, “about us.”

Ona blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation, but she didn’t shy away. “About us?” she echoed, her heart picking up its pace. Us, that sounded like… something she wanted.

Lucy leaned back slightly, resting her arm along the back of the couch. “I mean, the whole… thing we have going on.” She smiled softly, a bit unsure. “We’ve crossed a few lines, haven’t we?”

Ona’s gaze dropped for a moment, her fingers nervously tapping the side of her glass. She knew exactly what Lucy was referring to. They’d kissed, ‘fooled around’—as Lucy had casually put it that night. But instead of resolving some feeling for Ona the tension between them had only grown thicker with each encounter.

It lingered in the air between them, waiting for one of them to acknowledge it. Like how everything would go quiet when their hands accidentally brushed. Or how Ona would ‘fix’ Lucy’s shirt just to have an excuse to be close. The way Lucy would challenge her during one-on-ones in training, pressing herself against Ona for just a few seconds too long.

There was something undeniable pulling them toward each other. For Lucy, it might have been a recent realization, but for Ona, it was the same feelings she’d always had. Only now, they were growing stronger, getting more and more impossible to ignore.

“Yeah,” Ona admitted, her voice quieter now. “I guess we have.” She mentally cringed, what did she mean ‘I guess we have’, ofcourse they had.

Lucy let the words hang in the air for a moment, her eyes on Ona’s. “I just think it’s kind of obvious,” she continued, her tone light but serious.

Ona’s eyebrows shot up. Shit, was she so readable, had Lucy figured it out? A blush crept on her cheeks.

Lucy smiled, “Obvious, that we’re both into each other.” She continued, making clear what she meant. ‘’To me it feels like we just have some sort of chemistry or something, I don’t know.’’

Ona’s pulse quickened at the admission, but she found herself nodding. “Yeah, I think so too,” she said, her lips curving into a small smile. Breathing out a breath she had apparently been holding. ‘’That’s probably why that happened the other night, right?’’ She said, she didn’t know what she was saying, she just opened her mouth and words fell out.

‘’Yeah, I think we both saw it coming.’’ Lucy exhaled, her eyes softening. “And I really like hanging around with you. And I’m not saying this has to be complicated or anything. I just… I like what we’ve got going on.”

Ona bit her lip, feeling the same pull she had felt every time they were close; after training, during their car rides, the quiet moments in the locker room. If she could do anything she wished right now, without any consequences, she’d kiss Lucy right here right now, confessing she wanted Lucy to be her girlfriend.

But Lucy wasn’t asking for something serious. Maybe that suited them. She didn’t want complications either. Maybe the easiest option would be just this, whatever this was. Just, something easy, something between friends.

“So,” Ona said, her voice steady now, “are you saying we should… keep it simple?” She did not really know how to word this. Was Lucy suggesting what she thought she was.. or was she wishful thinking.

Lucy’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “Simple. Fun. Whatever you want to call it.”

Ona chuckled softly, setting her glass down on the table. “I like simple.”

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, an unspoken understanding settling between them. Their gazes flickered to each other's lips, then back to their eyes, the tension between them palpable.

Then, as if the tension finally broke, Lucy leaned in, closing the last inch between them. Her hand brushed the side of Ona’s neck, gentle yet sure, before her lips met Ona’s in a kiss that was slow and deliberate.

Ona responded without hesitation, her hand gliding up to cradle Lucy’s jaw as the kiss deepened, drawing them both deeper into the moment. The familiarity between them was intoxicating. Lucy’s touch playful yet confident, while Ona’s pulse raced beneath her skin as she melted into her.

Lucy pulled away slightly, her breath warm against Ona’s lips. Her gaze searched Ona’s face, her voice low and careful. "Was that alright?" she murmured, giving Ona the space to back out if she wanted to.

There wasn’t one ounce of hesitation in Ona’s body. She nodded, her pulse quickening, eyes dark with desire. "Yeah," she whispered, her fingers slipping beneath the hem of Lucy’s shirt, feeling the heat of her skin. "More than alright."

Lucy let out a soft laugh, leaning in to kiss her again, deeper this time. The tension which had been simmering for weeks, finally broke. They didn’t rush. Each kiss was deliberate, slow, as though they were savoring every second.

Ona’s mind raced as her body responded to the familiar touch, the heat, the way Lucy’s hands moved over her skin with an ease that felt both thrilling and comforting.

But as their kisses grew more heated, more urgent, and Lucy shifted Ona onto her lap, something nagged at the back of Ona’s mind. Thoughts she couldn’t ignore, even in the midst of it all. Was this going to stay simple? Could she really keep it that way?

As if sensing Ona’s hesitation, Lucy pulled back slightly, her breath coming in soft, uneven puffs. Her hands rested on Ona’s hips, her fingers lightly brushing her sides. "We can stop whenever you want," she said, her voice gentle but serious, eyes searching Ona’s for any sign of doubt.

Ona shook her head, the answer immediate, though her mind was still swirling with unspoken thoughts. "I don’t want to stop," she whispered, her fingers tangling in Lucy’s hair, tugging gently.

That was all the encouragement Lucy needed. She stood up, lifting Ona with effortless strength, their lips connecting again as she carried her toward the bedroom.

A soft laugh escaped both of them as they tumbled onto the bed, it was a mess of limbs and breathless kisses.

For a moment, the only thing that mattered to Ona was the feeling of Lucy’s body pressed against hers.

As Lucy’s hands found their way to her skin again, she felt a small pause. "Ona…" Lucy’s voice was softer now, almost hesitant. "About this. About us."

Ona’s heart skipped a beat. There it was again. Us. That word that held so much weight, so much meaning. "Yeah?" she asked, her voice quieter now, though her body already ached for Lucy’s touch again.

Lucy shifted, lying beside Ona now, her arm draped over her waist. ‘’Maybe we should set our expectations straight first?’’

Ona nodded, ‘’ofcourse.’’

Lucy took Ona’s hand in hers, fidgeting with her fingers. "I like this, what we’re doing. But we need to talk about what it is. Set some rules, you know?" She smiled, though there was a seriousness in her eyes.

Ona’s chest tightened. Rules. Boundaries. They hadn’t talked about it yet, but it probably was wise to do so. "Yeah," Ona agreed, her fingers tracing absent patterns on Lucy’s arm. "What kind of rules?"

Lucy looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well… for one, no one in the team can know," she said. "We’re roomies. It’s not like we’re a couple or anything, but if anyone found out, it could get messy. You know?"

Ona nodded, feeling a sting of pain in her heart at the words ‘not a couple.’ But she pushed it down, reminding herself that she didn’t want anything complicated either. "Yeah, that makes sense," she said. "We should definitely keep it to ourselves."

Lucy’s fingers went to gently stroke Ona’s side as she continued. "And maybe… nothing should happen in the hotel rooms, either. You know, since we’re close to the team there and all. It’s.. uh.. how did they say it.. a breach in professionalism."

Ona’s heart gave a slight tug at the thought of not being able to have these moments during away trips, but she knew Lucy was right. "Right," she murmured. "Sorry that happened the other night, then."

‘’No, no.’’ Lucy smiled, taking Ona’s hand and bringing it to her mouth for a tender kiss, ‘’I do not regret that at all, it made us realize there was something going on, it just happened. I meant like, going forward we should probably not do it during work hours.’’ Lucy chuckled.

Ona chuckled back, ‘’yeah, okay.’’

Her mind wandered for a moment, imagining the whispered conversations and sidelong glances they’d share while pretending nothing was going on. Could they really keep that up? What if their teammates, who already joked about how close they were, figured things out?

Lucy’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. "And… no strings," she said, her eyes meeting Ona’s. "I don’t want things to get complicated, like for you as well, mainly for you."

Ona’s stomach clenched slightly, though she forced a smile. "Right," she agreed, even though her chest felt tight. "No expectations."

But even as the words left her mouth, she wondered if she could really stick to that. It was easy to say no strings, no complications, but every time Lucy smiled at her, every time their bodies were a little too close, Ona felt something more. Something deeper.

She pushed the thoughts aside as Lucy kissed her again, her lips warm and familiar. It was enough to let it be simple. To let them have this without asking for more. Lucy just didn’t feel the same pull as her, and that was fine. She should just be happy and enjoy what they did have.

As their kisses deepened once more, Ona allowed herself to get lost in it. Lucy was all she had to think about, she would consider all the other feelings tomorrow again.

The rest of the night was spent exploring each other, giving in to the attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

As the morning sun began to filter through the curtains, Ona awoke in Lucy’s arms, their legs tangled beneath the sheets. The room was quiet, the soft sounds of their breathing the only noise between them. Ona felt no awkwardness, no tension. Just a quiet sense of satisfaction and the warmth of familiarity. If this was ‘simple’ like Lucy had said, she could absolutely live with their arrangement.

Ona shifted slightly, pressing a few light kisses to Lucy’s bare chest. “Good morning,” she murmured with a soft smile, feeling at ease in a way she hadn’t expected. Waking up in Lucy’s bed felt amazing.

Lucy stirred beneath her, her body stretching lazily. She let out a low hum, her arm tightening slightly around Ona’s waist. “Mmm, morning,” she muttered, her voice thick with sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting Ona’s with a relaxed smile.

They lay there in silence for a few moments, basking in the comfort of the morning. But the unspoken question hung in the air: what now?

Ona broke the silence first, her voice soft but steady. “So… last night,” she began, tracing small patterns on Lucy’s skin. “That was… fun.”

Lucy chuckled, her hand sliding up to brush Ona’s hair back. “Yeah,” she agreed with a lazy smile. “Although I liked what you said yesterday maybe a bit more.” She mimicked Ona: ‘’fun.’’

Ona buried her face against Lucy’s chest, recalling how she had been worshipping Lucy’s name as she was brought to her fourth, uh maybe even fifth orgasm that night.

Lucy chuckled smugly, ‘’I take it that I have exceeded the expectations I drew?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ Ona replied shamefully, still hiding her face. ‘’You could say that.’’

‘’You were not too bad yourself either.’’ Lucy chuckled, poking Ona in her side playfully.

Ona squirmed, calling out until Lucy, who seemingly found it very funny, finally stopped.

There was a beat of quiet before Ona shifted slightly, propping herself up on one elbow so she could look at Lucy properly. “So, um… what does this mean for us?” She tried, curious what Lucy would say.

Lucy’s gaze softened. She had been expecting this question, there was no hesitation in her answer. “I think we’re good the way we are, like we said yesterday” she said simply, her fingers grazing Ona’s arm. “We’re friends, right? We’re probably best off not complicating that.”

Ona nodded, understanding exactly what Lucy meant. “Yeah, so we are friends that find eachother attractive?” She said casually as her heart fluttered inside her chest.

Lucy’s smile widened slightly, her eyes warm as they locked on Ona’s. “Yeah, like, friends with benefits? Or how do they call it again?” The words rolled off her tongue so easily, her tone light and clear.

Ona let out a soft laugh, nodding as she leaned back against the pillows. “Friends with benefits, yeah” she repeated, the term settling comfortably between them. “Cool.” She said, maybe more to convince herself then to confirm she was in on the arrangement.

Lucy chuckled, pulling Ona back down into her arms, her fingers brushing against Ona’s back lightly. “Yup, no nonsense, no pressure.”

Ona smiled, feeling a weight lift from her chest. This felt right… sort of.. at least it was an arrangement that allowed them to stay close without complicating things. “Mhm,” she hummed in agreement.

There was a comfortable pause, the morning sunlight casting a soft glow across the room. Lucy pressed a kiss to the top of Ona’s head, her hand trailing slowly along her spine. “Alright then,” she said, seeming deep in thought, ‘’I think we should probably not be shy about discussing our boundaries and things, hm? Talk about stuff when we need to..’’

Ona nodded, laying on her side, pressed against Lucy’s warm body.

‘’and then..’’ Lucy smirked, wiggling her eyebrows.

‘’Mhm,’’ Ona grinned as she leaned in and pressed Lucy on her back, ‘’and then’’ she repeated teasingly, diving in Lucy’s neck, placing some kisses, ‘’then, we can have a lot of fun’’.

‘’Hhm’’. Lucy’s head fell back against her pillow. She groaned as Ona’s tongue trailed the skin on her neck.

Ona’s lips moved lower, trailing along Lucy’s collarbone with the same teasing intent from the night before.

Lucy smiled sleepily, her eyes half-closed, her voice warm but teasing. “Already? We just woke up.”

Ona grinned, her face half-hidden in Lucy’s neck. “Is that a no?”

Lucy laughed softly, shaking her head. “Not saying no, but... we literally just did this last night.”

Ona shifted slightly, her hand moving to rest on Lucy’s side. “I can’t help it,” she murmured, half-playful, half-serious. “You said friends with benefits, right?” She said challenging. She just couldn’t get enough of this woman, last night had been… Let’s just say Lucy wasn’t kidding when she said sleeping with her was good.

“Yeah, I did,” Lucy replied, her smile widening. She tilted her head to look at Ona with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t realize you’d need a ‘friend with benefits’ this bad, though. You’ve got a lot of... urges to work through, huh?”

Ona’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she laughed, leaning back to let their eyes meet. “Maybe,” she admitted, her grin turning more mischievous. “I guess.”

‘’Yeah clearly,’’ Lucy’s laughter shifted into a soft groan as Ona’s fingers began tracing slow, teasing patterns over her skin again. ‘’I can see this arrangement is going to get a lot of use,'’ Lucy murmured, her tone caught between amusement and renewed desire.

Ona leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Lucy’s lips, her voice soft but teasing. “So… no complaints?”

Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. “Nuh-uh. None at all. I just didn’t expect you’d be so...”

Ona smirked raising her eyebrow. “So, what?’’

‘’I don’t know… relentless?’’.

‘’Guess you didn’t know me as well as you thought.”

Lucy’s hand slid up to cup the back of Ona’s neck, pulling her in closer. “Guess not,” she murmured before kissing her again, the tension between them building once more.

…

The past days Ona had felt a subtle shift in her and Lucy’s dynamic. They hadn’t slept together again since that morning, but the closeness between them had only grown.

No walk with the dogs was ever done alone anymore; they’d made a point of syncing their routines.

Their carpooling to training had become more than just a convenience, they waited for eachother if their schedules weren’t linking up perfectly. Those little things were part of a routine that Ona found herself looking forward to more and more.

But it wasn’t just the usual drives and practices that had changed. Their recovery sessions had changed too. Normally, Ona preferred stretches and physio after the cooling down, while Lucy was all about the ice baths. Somehow, they had started doing both their things together. It became their inside joke: the ultimate thorough recovery session. Joking that they would never have an injury again.

The ice baths weren’t so bad when Lucy was there, laughing with her. And she had been able to make Lucy laugh during stretching as Ona had made a, very quiet, teasing remark about how flexible Lucy was.

Still, despite all the time they’d spent together, Ona couldn’t stop thinking about that morning in Lucy’s bed. It had been five days, and she was starting to feel the ache again. She missed the intimacy they’d shared, and with every lingering look or accidental touch, it became harder to ignore.

Ona wasn’t sure how to address it. They’d agreed to have open communication, but for her it felt a little weird to just straight up ask for the ‘benefits’. She felt like maybe Lucy wasn’t feeling the same urgency.

Finally, last night, after an evening spent overthinking it, she texted Lucy.

@Ona Batlle: Hey, wanna have dinner at mine tomorrow evening?

She stared at the screen for a few moments, her thumb hovering over the send button before she pressed it. A few minutes passed, and her phone buzzed with Lucy’s reply.

@Lucy Bronze: Yeah, sounds good

@Lucy Bronze: Looking forward to it 😊

Ona smiled at her phone, her heart racing with anticipation. Dinner at her place was just a casual encounter, a normal evening with a friend, but she couldn’t deny the flutter of excitement that came with it. Maybe because there was a good chance they would ‘cross the line’ again.

…

The next afternoon, Ona was quickly tidying up her apartment, a little more nervous than she wanted to admit. She told herself it was just dinner with a friend—friends who happened to sleep together sometimes. That’s all. Still, she found herself refreshing her bedsheets and cleaning her bathroom.

She was arranging the pillows on the couch for the third time when she heard a knock at the door.

Her heart did a small flip. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the flutter of excitement, and opened the door to find Lucy standing there.

"Hey," Lucy greeted her with a warm smile. "Ready for the walk?"

Lucy’s dog was with her ex, but they had agreed to walk together any ways, this time just with Coco.

Ona smiled back, opening the door wider to let her in. "Yeah, just let me grab Coco, and we’ll head out."

As they walked through the quiet streets, their conversation flowed as easily as ever. But underneath the playful banter and casual talk, Ona felt the familiar tension building. She wondered if Lucy could feel it too. Like every time their hands brushed, Ona’s pulse quickened. She wandered if Lucy felt that too, it didn’t seem like it. Lucy looked totally cool, but then again, Ona looked cool from the outside too. She put a lot of effort to stay casual at all times.

When they returned to Ona’s apartment after the walk, the sun had just begun to set, casting a warm glow through the windows. Lucy kicked off her shoes, taking Coco’s leash of and putting it aside as Ona went and busied herself in the kitchen, starting on dinner.

"Need any help?" Lucy asked.

"Nah, I got it," Ona replied, her voice a little lighter than she felt. She could feel Lucy’s presence behind her, and it was taking all her focus to keep her hands steady as she chopped vegetables.

"So, what’s on the menu tonight?" Lucy asked, leaning casually against the counter, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

Ona glanced up with a grin, trying to hide the slight tension in her movements. "Nothing too fancy, just pasta. Simple," she added, hoping Lucy didn’t catch the underlying weight of that word.

Lucy chuckled, a knowing smile on her lips. "Simple. Simple’s good."

They ate dinner with the same ease they’d always had, talking about training, the team, the usual stuff. But even as they laughed, Ona could feel something else lingering between them, the air felt thick. Her mind kept drifting back to the couple encounter they had had up to this moment, to the way Lucy’s touch had made her pulse race, and to the promise of more.

After dinner, they settled on the couch, Coco curled up nearby. The atmosphere between felt more and more charged. Ona could feel her heartbeat pick up as she caught Lucy’s gaze.

She didn’t know how to bring it up, didn’t know how to ask for more.

With a soft exhale, she shifted closer to Lucy on the sofa, her fingers brushing lightly against Lucy’s arm. "So..." she began, her voice steady but her heart racing.

Lucy chuckled, ‘’Ona.’’ She said softly, taking her hand.

Hearing her name she looked at Lucy.

Ona exhaled softly, feeling her heart race as Lucy took her hand. The warmth of her touch was grounding, but the nervous energy buzzing inside her didn’t quite fade.

Lucy’s voice was soft, a little bit teasing. "You don’t have to be so nervous." she chuckled.

Ona swallowed, her gaze meeting Lucy’s. She tried to find the right words, her fingers lightly gripping Lucy’s hand. "I’ve been thinking about... you know."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Lucy’s lips, her expression warm but mischievous. "Yeah?" she murmured, her thumb brushing over Ona’s knuckles. "I thought you might."

Ona’s breath hitched at Lucy’s easy agreement, her pulse quickening. "Yeah. I’ve been… wanting to."

Lucy chuckled, her hand moving up to cup the side of Ona’s face, her fingers brushing her cheek. "Me too," she admitted, her voice soft but sure. She leaned in closer, her lips hovering just above Ona’s. "It´s cute you made me a dinner for it, though."

With that, Lucy closed the gap, her lips pressing against Ona’s in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and filled with the familiar heat that had been building between them. Ona responded instantly, her hands sliding up to tangle in Lucy’s hair as their kiss deepened, the tension between them breaking like a dam.

Lucy’s hands wandered, sending shivers down Ona’s spine. They shifted on the couch, their bodies pressing together as the kiss grew more heated. Ona’s fingers trailed down Lucy’s back, pulling her closer, the feel of her skin under her hands intoxicating.

Before long, Lucy’s hands found the hem of Ona’s shirt, lifting it up and over her head in one smooth motion. Ona did the same, tugging at Lucy’s clothes with desperate urgency. The couch beneath them creaked as they shifted again, Lucy’s lips moving to Ona’s neck, kissing a slow trail that made Ona gasp.

Ona breathed heavy, her body filled with anticipation.

Lucy’s smirked, her hands moving to unfasten Ona’s jeans.

They didn’t need to rush, but neither of them wanted to stop. Neither of them could stop, they wanted eachother. They wanted eachother now.

Their kisses grew more fervent as they stripped the last of their clothes away. The feeling of Lucy’s skin against hers, the way Lucy touched her with both tenderness and hunger, made Ona’s head spin.

Ona’s breath came in shallow gasps as Lucy’s lips left a searing trail down her neck, moving lower with purpose. Her touch, hot and confident, sent waves of heat through Ona’s body. As Lucy unfastened Ona’s jeans, her eyes flicked up with a mischievous smile, Ona’s pulse quickened in response.

Lucy tugged Ona’s jeans down, her underwear coming down with it, leaving her completely exposed, and for a moment, the anticipation hung thick in the air. Ona’s heart raced as she watched Lucy’s gaze darken with desire, her hands gliding over Ona’s thighs with a slow, teasing touch.

“Been thinking about this,” Lucy murmured, her voice low and filled with barely contained need.

Ona bit her lip, her body aching for Lucy’s touch. She had no words, only a burning desire that matched the heat in Lucy’s eyes. And then Lucy’s lips were on her skin again, kissing a slow, torturous path lower and lower. Her breath hitched as Lucy’s mouth hovered at her center, her eyes flicking up to meet Ona’s one more time, a playful glint in them.

Lucy didn’t hold back. Her mouth found Ona, her tongue pressing firmly against her, and Ona gasped, her hands clutching the couch cushions as her body arched involuntarily. Lucy’s touch was both gentle and insistent, but it was the hunger behind every movement that made Ona’s head spin.

She could feel Lucy’s eagerness, the way her lips and tongue worked with an intensity that left her breathless. There was no hesitation, no teasing, just something that Ona could only describe as hungry desire, as if Lucy had been waiting for this just as much as Ona had. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d been dying for this, Ona thought, her body trembling beneath Lucy’s touch.

Lucy’s hands gripped Ona’s hips, pulling her closer as her tongue moved faster, more deliberate. Ona’s breathing turned ragged, her fingers tangling in Lucy’s hair as she tried to ground herself, the pleasure building in waves, higher and higher with every stroke. Lucy was relentless, her mouth working with a single goal in mind, the heat of her breath sending sparks of electricity through Ona’s body.

Ona’s mind went blank, consumed by the sensation. All she could feel was Lucy; her mouth, her hands, the way her tongue moved with perfect precision. The tension in her body coiled tighter, the pleasure too intense to contain.

“Lucy,” Ona gasped, her voice barely a whisper as the heat inside her built to a breaking point. She was close. So close, her body was trembling uncontrollably. Lucy’s response was a soft hum against her, the vibration sending a fresh wave of pleasure through her.

Not longer then a few moments later everything inside Ona snapped.

The pleasure burst through her in an overwhelming rush, her body arching off the couch as she came undone beneath Lucy’s eager touch. Her hands tightened in Lucy’s hair, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the world around her faded away, leaving her sensing only the white-hot bliss of release.

Lucy didn’t stop until Ona’s body had fully relaxed, riding out the last tremors of pleasure. Only then did she pull back slightly, pressing a few soft kisses to Ona’s thighs before resting her head against her, her breath warm against her skin.

Ona laid there spend on the couch, her body still buzzing, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her heart pounded in her ears, her fingers slowly loosened their grip on Lucy’s hair.

…

Both totally spend they laid on their backs on the mattress, their feet were laying at the part where their heads where supposed to be and their heads at the feet’s end.

It had been a couple of hours since they had finished dinner. They had been laying like this the last 15 minutes. Both of them were wading in their own euphoria.

One thing was for sure, they definitely had chemistry. Their sex was unmatched. Ona could only speak for herself of course, but she had never had anyone she clicked with so well, physically.

Lucy rolled on top of her, burying her face in the crook of Ona’s neck. She didn’t say anything, she just laid there.

Was she taking in her scent? The thought pulled Ona right back to reality.

Ona smiled, ‘’what are you doing?’’ She giggled.

Lucy groaned, ‘’mmm we have to shower, but I don’t want too.’’

‘’Yeah we should definitely shower.’’ Ona chuckled. ‘’But we can wait a little bit.’’

‘’Mhm, but we’ve got a game tomorrow.’’

‘’How late is it anyways?’’ Ona asked, not able to move due to the weight on top of her.

They stood under the warm water of the shower.

Lucy stood behind Ona, her arms wrapped around her waist, her lips pressing light kisses along the curve of Ona’s shoulder.

"I should probably go home," Lucy murmured after a moment, her voice low and regretful. "Get some sleep in my own bed."

Ona nodded, though a pang of disappointment twisted in her chest. "Yeah, of course." She didn’t want to seem clingy or too attached, but she couldn’t help feeling a little sad at the idea of Lucy leaving.

"This was fun, though," Lucy continued, her fingers tracing gentle circles on Ona’s stomach. "Really fun."

"Yeah, it was," Ona agreed softly, her mind already racing with the new memories they made this night.

Lucy pressed one last kiss to the back of Ona’s neck before turning off the shower and stepping out. As they dried off and got dressed, Ona felt the weight of something unspoken between them again.

She didn’t want Lucy to go, but she wasn’t sure if she could say that without making things more complicated.

Before leaving, Lucy turned to her with a playful smile. "You know, if you ever want to… do this again," she smiled, "you can just say so.’’ She thought about it for a second. ‘’Like… I don’t know, say like 'I’d like to do something simple'?"

Ona chuckled, a smile pulling at her lips. "Something simple?"

"Yeah, not that the thing we do is simple, but it would be like our little code," Lucy said, chuckling. "I don’t know, maybe I am being silly, I meant to say, like, just let me know and I’ll be here."

Ona smiled back, though there was a slight ache in her chest as Lucy got ready to leave.

Later, Ona was in her bed alone, her body still humming from the evening. She smelt the detergent of the sheets she had replaced, for the second time this day. She had debated leaving the other once on, having Lucy’s smell, but they were ruined.

She should have been happy. She was happy, really. This was what she’d wanted. Sleeping with Lucy. Yet, as she stared at the empty space beside her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.

She thought back to the night at the beginning of this week. The night she’d spent in Lucy’s arms and the quiet comfort of waking up beside her. It had felt different then, more connected.

Now, lying in her own bed, Ona couldn’t help but feel a little hollow. A little alone.

She sighed softly, pulling the covers up to her chin, trying to ignore the loneliness settling in her chest. She could handle this. It was simple. She just had to keep reminding herself of that.

---

masterlist

#lucy bronze smut #woso smut #woso fanfics #lucy bronze x ona batlle #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #woso #woso imagine #ona batlle smut #ona batlle

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shigayokagayama · 2 years ago

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incomplete list of weird/interesting manga-anime discrepancies

-you know the bit where they break into the girls highschool in episode 2? yea thats chapter 56. spliced into the middle of chapter 4. its supposed to go before the bit with the ghost family as a lead up to the mogami arc with mob starting to consider evil spirits as just as much “people” as living humans are. all things considered its kind of weird how well it fits its anime placement

-ritsu in the manga gets introduced in the same chapter as teru. you dont see mobs family at all for the first few chapters. infact i dont think his parents appear until like. chapter 25????? every interaction you see between mob and any of his family is completely made up for the anime

-in the manga during the claw arc instead of reigen sending them away all the lackeys just stood there awkwardly during the fight w the scars fdnjksndkjgnd

-mogami arc got GUTTED my god. the part where the fake psychics tried to murder minori got removed, shinras role in the arc got reduced to basically nothing, they move mogamiland ritsu to a bridge like 50 feet away instead of having him walk right over mob, mob only gets beat up like twice, the cat lives, the boxcutter bit is totally removed, the fight with the spirits is made a lot more abstract and less graphic. like im glad this one took the hit instead of the separation arc bc i cant imagine that arc ever being effective as one episode but wow.

-putting the “mob finding his family dead” thing at the end of the episode instead of in the middle of a chapter where it originally was was an objectively hilarious move

-rip the scene of teru outsmarting all three claw guys and saying “say old man have you ever been tortured before” unfortunately all scenes of teru being competent are not plot relevant and must die. also teru can make shadow clones

-hey remember those weird satellite people in claw keeping the viewer updated on where all the characters were in that infinite arc?

-mob with a gun.

-mob getting briefly knocked out while fighting toichiro and dimple possessing him then getting kicked out was replaced w toichiro just throwing him out the window or somethhing???

-toichiro saying that he only kept the super five around as spare batteries and draining serizawas power getting cut was a personal affront to me

-every single emotion mob cycled through in the anime got a 100% meter. the kid was super emotionally unstable in that fight

-that old man whos house they went to whos wraith made everyone asleep that they exorcised? yea they anime team made that up. they never went to his house in the manga, he just went to spirits and such for a shoulder massage

-manga reigen got 0 money for helping the yokai dude. it wasnt on the table. also most of the stuff he was saying was lifted from a video game serizawa played which he pointed out. also serizawa thought getting arrested was a type of spell

-takenakas general meanness was significantly toned down manga takenaka was a huge bitch

-in general the alien arc was a lot funnier in the manga? like the scene where reigen crashes they had reached a dead end on an extremely narrow path and were driving in reverse while tome and takenaka were screaming at each other in the back and inukawa was 5 seconds from snapping and killing everyone in the car. these might be my favorite pages in the entire manga they as so fucking funny

-originally when tome said she wouldnt keep climbing reigen suggested mob carry her with telekinesis (which horrified her) and mob said he was too motion sick to use his powers (obvious lie) but could carry her instead which got her to get up

-mezato asking mob to sign a t shirt for the psycho helmet cult in exchange for relationship advice got cut

-i cry every day that the sequence of ???% waking up didnt get animated it set a very different tone than the anime did. the anime was like. slow build up of dread. the manga was immediately bone deep horror i was literally sitting in my room yelling “WHAT???” over and over again at my computer as i clicked through it

-shigeo and mob conversation cut down significantly, all the references to the body improvement club being mob making a new self rather than embracing who he really is and being scared that all the friends hes made wouldnt like the real him removed </3

-the scene where reigen takes his shoes off is made a lot less somber and depressing. it feels less like “oh he knows hes going to die” and more like. triumphant? in the anime

-100% shigeo kageyama is an anime addition they added specifically to ruin my “the first time we see mob 100% is to fight dimple and the last time is to stop himself from fighting dimple” observation

-anime teru generally seems like hes in a better place than manga teru? manga teru seems very melancholy and like he doesn’t really know what to do with his life or his place in the world (which seems to put shigeo off) but anime teru is like wanna go shopping ^_^ *sips tea happily*

-manga shigeo deliberately threw the cake directly in reigens face and my fury over them making this ambiguous will last until i am dead

#maybe someday ill go through and do my simultaneous rewatch/reread #but for now take the ones i can presently remember #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #long post #pic

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hazard-c-horror · 5 months ago

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spawns in ur inbox with my hands politely folded. hello hazard-c-horror. it's been quite a few days now, and i've only Continued to fall down the dandy's world rabbit hole eihsihssh SO, since you're the only Other Person i know about that's Insane abt D.W *and* SAMS, i would like to throw Thoughts inspired by your SAMS x D.W au I've been having .D.

i was hella inspired by the character sheets you made for moon, eclipse, lunar, and solar, so. take some Thoughts for how sun, earth, and kc would work in the game digsgskqj

(btw- this disclaimer might be a bit silly- but idk if you already have Planned Out Stuff for these characters n their abilities n stuff, and i Apologize if you do- this isnt me trynna like take over your au or smtn, its just me being autistic dgsigaiya that being said, do with these ideas as you will, you have free reign over anything you do w them lmao)

Sun:

OKAY so yk how he can turn ppl into geese n stuff in canon? i feel like his transformation magic could actually be his ability. as a toon, he has the ability to turn either Himself or other toons into an object (like a soda can or chocolate bar) for 5-ish seconds. he could do this to Instantly de-agro any twisted's chasing either him or other toons, and the 5 second break could be just enough time for stamina to rebuild so even if the twisted does still spot the de-transformed toon again, they have more time/stamina to run and hide

THAT BEING SAID. his twisted form would be the exact Opposite of this- he'd be able to mask himself as an item and attack/agro onto any toon who'd try to pick him up. he'd be a lot like twisted rodger, just for items instead of capsules. and ofc there would be things making it obvious that the item wasn't trustworthy- like discoloration or added bits on it. if you have a keen eye, avoiding him is Easy :)

i have like a couple thoughts for his mastery item. first one that came to mind was a Cat Plush, which when equipped it has a “calming effect”, and ups your stealth up by around 10-ish percent, making it harder for twisted's to spot you. but then i also thought “haha Wine Bottle”, which i thought that (when close enough) it could instill the “confused” effect on nearby twisted's, and make it harder for them to see nearby toons. so both items would do the same thing, just go about it in different ways

Earth:

she deffo has an ability like tisha's or shelly's, where it helps out the other players instead of herself. im thinking she's able to heal others for one heart every two minutes. a basic ability, but bro methinks this game needs a healer besides teagen, who can only heal herself dosyohsshs the Easy way to go about it is that she can just.. go up to (aka Click) on another player to heal them, but she could also just have a “medical bag” on hand where she whips hella bandages out the wazoo and gives them to whoever needs em dishiaha

okay as a twisted this girl gives me MAD razzle and dazzle vibes in how she functions. but instead of sleeping, i can imagine her constantly Crying and remaining in one smalllll specific area, patrolling it, almost. she can be led away by Distractors (goob, pebble, ect), but once they've de-agroed her, she'll start slowly walking back to her patrol spot. the best way to deal with her is to have someone else agro her and lead her around while You fix the machine she's working on, or vice versa :) but you Can still beat her on a solo run, bc she has rather slow walk-speed when getting back to her patrol spot where you could beat her back to it after leading her away. it'd just be a Lot easier w multiple people digdihsah

and her item?? first thing that came to mind is a barbie doll. or just a “pink girl doll” bc. copyright sigsiszvah it would be an Active item (like the wrench or bottle of pop), where at the start of every round, she could place it down somewhere, and it makes noise, which leads the nearest twisted right to it. ofc we dont want it Too op, so once a twisted makes contact with it, its destroyed and returns back in earths inventory, ready to be used next round .D.

Killcode:

kc is a Complex one- i think this guy would have slow walk speed, but a fast run speed. so i think he'd be a good “distraction” character, like goob or pebble. HOWEVER. i think it'd be sick as *hell* if his ability, using his size, literally made it so that he could momentarily Pick Up Other Toons and carry them away from any twisted's chasing them. he'd prolly only be able to do so for 3-ish seconds, but it could be a saving grace for anyone out of stamina being chased .D.

now. as a Twisted. this👏man👏deserves👏lethal👏status👏 his name is LITERALLY KILLCODE i refuse to believe he cant one-shot a bitch sisgiaga due to him literally being a Being made to perfectly hunt/kill, i think how twisted kc would act is that he'd spawn in at the start of a new floor, a Sound Queue would play so that toons know he's on the floor. and now he's just.. somewhere. hiding. *waiting*. hes normally spawned behind corners or nearby machines, where its either easy to run into him or hard to avoid him. hes not Impossible to beat tho- i imagine he emimates a very quiet sound byte, so hes still avoidable on blackout floors, even if he's not visible. and that byte also helps on just normal floors too ofc. best way to deal with him is to listen to his sound queues and *be very aware of your surroundings*. cause if he spots someone, he is *hard* to lose, and hes lethal if he gets ya. once freed from his waiting spot, he's not going back to it. instead, he'll be moving around the map like a faster, but also Louder, dandy. Scary!!

aaand his item. i came up with a “soup ladel”. cause. heh. yk, because he volunteered in soup kitchens in canon? .D.? i think im Funny siosgiaa what it'd do is up the spawn rate of better Food/Drink items on every floor. think instead of soda cans spawning on floor 1, there's a higher/better chance for soda bottles to spawn instead .D.

. this is over 1K WORDS LONG OF AN ASK hazard im so sorry, im Unwell sigihgaisg okay now i go eep for tonight good nini honk shoo honk shoo

Why hello there. Longest inbox I’ve ever received

I love this a lot actually, and thank you for some ideas! Love the trinket ideas especially, will probably use them

I’m just be reading over this like 12 times, because I just love it

It’s also funny bc I had the same idea about Earths ability, so that’s nice. Great minds think alike

I don’t know if I’ll be incorporating Sun’s magic into this, but I did include Eclipse’s so I may use your idea. Bc I also don’t have any ideas for him at the moment

One unfortunate. KC will not be in this au, but I could make a non canon character sheet for him a Solar flare if people wish. Really like your ideas for him!

The soup ladle is my favorite for a trinket lol

In return of theses amazing ideas, I give you a sneak peek

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tkaulitzlvr · 1 year ago

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I NEED A PT2 TO THE 'DID U MEAN IT' ANGST PLEAAAAAAAAAASE IM BEGGING

DID YOU MEAN IT (2)- T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you see tom for the first time after calling off your casual hookups - unsure of what to make of tom’s confession after he says something that makes them so much more. it seems that he has had a change of heart, determined to put things straight, no matter how hard you resist.

content: angst & smut

a/n: lowk forgot i even wrote did you mean it LOL, i meant to write a part two a few days after but that never happened😭i’d recommend u read part one before this to remind urself of what happened cause this has sat in my drafts for weeks and i have finally found the motivation to finish it🔥

“truth or dare guys come on!”

a noticeably tipsy voice shouts over the loud music, everybody placing their drinks down and walking over to the large circle that begins to form in the centre of the living room. i contemplate joining, swirling the drink in my hand aimlessly, praying that no one will notice me. normally i would rush towards games like this, enjoying the thrill that came along with them. but that excitement is replaced with dread, because he is here.

my friends hadn’t told me that tom would be at this party - knowing that i would never have agreed to come if i had found out. but it was far too late to leave now, my breath catching in my throat when i had spotted him from the other side of the room, my heart aching as the wound of whatever we had is still fresh. and he spotted me too - his eyes locking onto mine, no longer paying attention to the small blonde clinging onto his frame. though a couple weeks had passed since i had walked out, i know that i’m not ready to speak to him yet, so for the rest of the party i ignore him, despite the obvious glances that he sends my way.

and i was able to do so easily - until now. a game like truth or dare means that i have to face him directly, something which i have strictly avoided. my eyes are glued to his frame - adorned in baggy attire as usual - as he joins the circle himself, no longer accompanied by the girl he was with when i arrived. and just when i think i have managed to get away with missing out on the game, i am dragged over to the circle by one of my friends, unable to resist her strangely strong grip. as i near the circle, tom’s eyes dart to mine, somehow spotting me out of his peripheral vision. if my luck wasn’t bad enough, my friend sits just a few seats beside him, tom now not even a metre away from me, this the closest we have been since we last fucked. i ignore his eyes clearly burning into mine, focusing on the glass bottle that is placed in the centre, watching as it begins to spin around.

“the first person it lands on has to choose truth or dare, the second chooses what they have to do.”

the bottle begins to slow after a few seconds, everybody’s eyes fixed on it - everybody’s except tom’s, who still refuses to tear his gaze away from my body. i groan internally when the glass bottle finally stops, landing directly on me. it spins again, landing on some random guy who i hadn’t seen before.

“truth or dare?”

“dare.” i state confidently, deciding that if i am sitting here, i might as well do something fun, rather than answer a shitty question that would probably be along the lines of ‘what’s your body count?’ or ‘where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?’

“i dare you…” the guy pauses, visibly contemplating over what to instruct me to do, adjusting himself in his seat before continuing. “to sit on the hottest guy in the room’s lap for five minutes.”

seriously? i scoff quietly at his dare, wondering how he failed to come up with something at least a little more interesting. though when i lock eyes with the brunette that had been eyeing me up the entire night, it suddenly doesn’t seem that bad. he is cute, soft brunette curls adorning his structured face, deep green eyes and plump lips, i had spotted him almost as soon as i had entered the party. and he had seen me too, sending me quick glances and smiling at me. the opportunity seems perfect as i grasp it with open arms, standing up and adjusting my dress that was probably too short.

though as i begin to walk over, my steps are quickly restrained as a hand wraps itself firmly around my wrist, pulling me backward to sit on their lap. i turn around, a familiar pair of brown eyes looking back at me, his expression harsh, jaw clenched and gaze darkened. he doesn’t seem at all fazed, his hand remaining firmly on my wrist as he adjusts himself, ignoring the quiet gasps that sound from the people around us. all i can do is stare, somehow unable to scold him like sober me would. i don’t even contemplate getting up just yet, far too shocked to do anything but stare into his eyes, ones that i hadn’t seen since i had caused tears to spill from them the last time we had been this close.

“start the timer.” tom mumbles just loud enough for the rest of the circle to hear, his voice low as he refuses to look away from me. he adjusts my position on his lap, his hands moving to rest on my waist securely.

“what the fuck are you doing-”

“who is that guy?” he completely ignores my question, tightening his hold on me and pulling me even closer, diverting his gaze to the brunette who i had intended to walk over to, though like everyone else he is submerged in conversation with his friends.

“i don’t know.” i groan, feeling his arms tighten around my waist once again, pulling me in so my back is flat against his chest. i hear him tut behind me, his low breaths seeming to get closer and closer to my ear. “maybe i would if you hadn’t fucking pulled me over here-”

“i wouldn’t even let you find out his fucking name.” he quickly cuts me off, voice laced with an anger i hadn’t ever heard before, far beyond the heat of the moment frustration he had displayed a few weeks ago. this time jealousy edges it, the idea of me wanting to entertain another man leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. his lips are now centimetres away from my ear, close enough to be able to just ghost over it, but he stops himself. “you won’t speak to anyone else. because we’re talking about what happened, mhm? that guy isn’t going anywhere fucking near you.”

i scoff at his statement, his bold attitude somewhat amusing. he hadn’t been this possessive ever - when we were fuck buddies we would have sex, then he left. he would take me out for food sometimes, though it always ended in the same way - wrapped up in some random hotel room sheets with his dick inside me, leaving almost just as fast as i had entered. this is new. he had always gotten tense at any mention of me with another guy, yet he never had the guts to call me out. maybe he was jealous, but the most likely explanation is that he simply didn’t care. so why now?

i open my mouth to speak, though i am quickly cut off by the sound of a dull alarm ringing from the other side of the room. the guy that had given me the dare pulls his phone out of his pocket, ending the timer and uttering a quick ‘times up guys’. tom however doesn’t budge, keeping his hands firmly on my waist, despite it being literally impossible for him to have not heard the alarm.

i quickly detach his hands from my hips, standing up and exiting the circle before he can attempt to stop me, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from him as possible. though not because he frustrates me, not because i am seconds away from punching that jealous look off of his face, but because the butterflies that erupt in my stomach from his touch shouldn’t be there - not after i had ended things. my mind had told me that i would be fine without him, and until now i had believed myself. but fuck, i would be stupid to ignore the feeling that his presence ignites, his touch almost enough to make me run back into his arms. though i know that would be irrational, the alcohol in my system not helping my ability to make the right decision, forcing the morally correct part of me to get the fuck away from him before i make a mistake.

the music gets quieter and quieter as i carry on walking down the hallway, pressing my ear against one of the doors on the left, sighing in relief when i hear silence. my hands reach for the handle, pulling it open, silently thanking god that it is not only a bathroom, but an empty bathroom, something that is a luxury at parties of this size. i close the door behind me, turning to face the large mirror above the counter, adjusting my makeup and pulling my dress down - knowing that tom is the reason why it has rolled up so much. the mere thought of him leaves an uneasy feeling in my stomach, his actions totally unexpected and more than anything - annoying.

sure, i had been confident in my decision to cut things off before, but seeing his face and being so close to him proves too much to handle, the unexpected realisation that i am not where near over him beginning to set in. i groan loudly, resting my elbows on the marble counter and placing my head in my hands, quickly realising that i should never have come here in the first place.

the door handle begins to turn, though i don’t even have the energy to see who it is, mumbling a small ‘someone is in here’, hoping that they will move on. though the door fully opens, creaking quietly as i hear footsteps behind me.

“are you fucking deaf? i said-”

my mouth falls open when i turn around, my eyes meeting the brown ones that are the last things i want to see. his dreads hang loosely along his shoulders, tied in their usual ponytail. his expression is stern as he closes the door behind him, twisting the small lock beneath the handle.

“what the fuck do you want, tom?” i sigh, rubbing my temples as the alcohol in my system creates a small headache that begins to throb painfully. he steps a little closer as i move backward, my back hitting the cold counter behind me.

“to talk.” his voice is calm, still laced with anger as he places his hands in his pockets, his gaze never tearing away from mine.

“we have nothing to talk about.”

“don’t play that bullshit with me. we have fucking plenty to talk about.” he cuts me off firmly, tone lacking the composure it had just seconds ago, becoming more frustrated by my somewhat nonchalant attitude. in my head i am screaming, pleading, my mind thinking the exact opposite of what my voice utters, knowing that if i give in, i won’t be able to stop myself. the room turns silent, the uneasy kind that leaves a sinking feeling in your stomach, one that tempts me to leave the room and sprint home.

“i miss you.” he eventually speaks into the silence, tearing it apart with one of the most heavy sentences possible, leaving my voice caught in my throat, unable to do anything besides stare into his eyes.

“the sex you mean? me and the hookups are two different things.” my voice is harsh, probably harsher than i had intended as he scoffs at my statement, shaking his head and clearing his throat. he takes another step towards me, now within arms reach.

“why did you end it?” he completely changes the subject, tone matching the harshness of my own as his eyes narrow, feet shuffling closer to mine as his hands move to rest at either side of the counter, trapping my body between his own and the counter.

“because you said you loved me then changed your mind within ten fucking minutes. don’t act stupid tom.” i shake my head at his stupidity, wondering how he could ask such a question, the answer totally obvious. he still doesn’t budge, arms trapping me against the counter. “why do you care anyway?”

“you wanted to end it, not me. that’s why i care.” as much as it irritates me, he is right. i was the one to call off our regular hookups against his pleas not to. “and that guy is lucky he can walk out of this party alive. he’s been eye-fucking you all night.”

“so what? i’m not your’s tom. i never was. all we did was hookup, i can do what i want.” his jaw clenches at my response as he turns away from me, hands remaining fixed on the counter whilst his head is turned towards the door. he exhales loudly, his grip on the counter seeming to tighten as he grits his teeth, swallowing before looking at the ground.

“what so that’s it then? you don’t even care?” his voice raises now, not far off yelling as he finally backs away, eyes darkened as they scan my own, his expression hurt.

yes i care. of course i fucking care. my heart begs me to scream the words out, to bring him close to me and kiss him like we aren’t complicated. like we have the most simple relationship ever, even though it is everything but. we never dated, nothing beyond a regular hookup, and my heart shouldn’t ache the way it does over somebody who was never mine. somewhere within me, my rational side manages to take control, prompting me to speak after a few painful seconds of silence.

“care about what? look, i don’t understand what you want me to say. we had sex sometimes, now we don’t, that’s all there is to it. bye tom.” each word stabs me in my own heart as i speak them, knowing deep down that i don’t mean any of it, that i will regret pushing him away one day. when my hand reaches for the door, not able to spend another second this close to him, i know that i want nothing more than to show him how i really feel. though the second my palm twists the door handle, it is forcefully pulled backward, my entire body pushed harshly against the counter.

i am unable to object or even question what is happening as tom presses his lips onto mine firmly, silencing any attempts to fight back before i can even utter them. his hands attach themselves to my waist, pushing me further against the counter as his body presses against my own. my eyes close, lips moving to kiss him back without any real thought.

“don’t say shit like that.” he mumbles angrily against my lips, groaning quietly into the kiss as he deepens it, his tongue sliding into my mouth. his lips are soft, just as i had remembered them, always contrasting with the harshness of his metal lip piercing, something which i had grown to love over the course of our hookups - not that i would ever tell him that. never breaking his lips from my own, his hands reach under my thighs, lifting me up and onto the counter in one swift motion. he uses one hand to move my legs apart, standing in between the gap as his mouth works against mine. it is this change in position that soon makes me realise where he is going with this, and no matter how much i want to, i can’t give myself up.

“we can’t.” i mutter against his lips, my words getting through with little success as he mumbles a quiet ‘hm’ against me before kissing me with just as much hunger as before. i place my hands against his chest, pushing him back, though he only takes this as a sign to attach his lips to my neck, planting sloppy kisses all over the skin as his hands run up and down my waist.

“tom we can’t do this.” my voice is much louder this time, firmer than before as he pulls his head from my neck, not moving far as his face is inches from my own.

“why not?” he is breathless, chest rising up and down as his hands still rest on my waist, body resting in between my legs. when i don’t respond, he sighs lowly, moving his head back into the crook of my neck, resuming his lips’ movements on the skin.

“tell me to stop.” his grip on my waist becomes tighter as he presses our bodies flush against each other. the kisses on my skin become much harsher, bordering messy as they aim to caress every inch of my neck. and when i struggle to form words, i realise that tom knows exactly what he is doing, his kisses pausing momentarily to speak. “say you don’t want this. say it and i’ll stop.”

“i-i….” i pause, thinking things through for a second. i choose my words carefully, deciding what to say, wondering if i even mean what is about to leave my mouth. because we both know the real answer, the one that my heart pleads for me to say, even when my words come out as a choked whisper, saying the complete opposite. “i don’t want you. stop…”

“you’re such a bad liar.” he breathes out against my skin, moving to rest his forehead against my own, his eyes flicking between my own gaze and lips, swollen and slightly parted. he doesn’t waste much time though, capturing them in to a harsh kiss, even more desperate than the ones before. his hands move under the small dress that hugs my figure, the pads of his fingertips now dancing along the bare skin of my waist, his touch creating goosebumps along it as i moan lowly into his mouth.

slowly his hands begin to trail down, my mind paying little attention to these small movements, until his finger teases the waistband of my lace panties. my breath gets caught in my throat, lips momentarily stuttering against his own when he wraps his fingers around the lace, tugging it down at a slow pace. his lips still work against mine, only much slower now, pulling away once my panties pool at my feet.

“you have no idea how much i’ve needed you.” he shakes his head whilst his fingers scramble to undo the button of his jeans, pulling them down and stepping out of them. he reaches for his t-shirt, not getting far as i stop his movement, my hands taking the fabric and pulling it over his head, revealing that toned upper half that i had been close to so many times. but no matter how many times i had seen it, i would never get used to it. the muscle that lines his frame, broad shoulders and slightly built arms, trailing down to his somehow perfectly crafted six pack, god he looks good.

and he knows it too, a soft smirk tugging at his lips when he registers that i am staring. “it’s all yours. it always has been, but you had to be fucking stubborn about it.”

he reconnects his lips to mine, spreading my legs apart even further as one finger slips downward, teasing my entrance as i moan into his mouth. i gasp against it when he slowly inserts one finger, knowing just when to curl it to elicit those sounds out of me that he longs to hear. and he knows that whatever he is doing is working, my lips stuttering against his as my head falls backward, legs subconsciously spreading wider. just as i feel myself getting close, he pulls his finger out, placing it in his mouth as his tongue swirls around it, releasing with a small pop. all i can do is watch, my eyes glued to his fingers, staring as they move toward his boxers, hurriedly pulling them down as his dick springs free. his size had always been something that excites me, though now, after being without it for two weeks, my thighs clench together at the sight, needing nothing more than to feel it inside me.

he takes his shaft in his hand, pumping it slightly whilst the other reaches behind my back, undoing the zipper of my dress and pulling it downward. he uses his other hand to pull it completely off of my body, stopping in front of me for a few seconds to take in the view in front of him. his tongue comes out of his lips to gently poke at the metal piercing that adorns it, eyes widening slightly once they make contact with my breasts.

“you’re so beautiful, want you all to myself.” he mumbles quietly, spreading my legs apart and lining his tip up with my entrance. “you ready?”

he waits for my consent, smiling weakly when i nod my head. that is all he needs to begin sliding into me, his head falling backward at the feeling. my walls attempt to stretch out to accustom to his size as i hiss in pain, hands clutching onto the countertop. though i never tell him to stop, deciding that any pain is better than ruining this moment, waiting patiently for it to subside. he finally bottoms out inside me, and i swear i feel his tip prodding at my cervix, the sensation causing my mouth to fall open, tom’s already placing messy kisses on my my chest.

he slides out slowly, almost pulling out completely until only his tip is inside, before thrusting all the way in without warning, my entire body jolting forward at the feeling. he repeats his motions, my body practically on the verge of giving out, hands flying to his chest in search for any form of support. my teeth sink into my bottom lip, hissing quietly as dull flashes of pain wash over me, eventually becoming less and less frequent, instead replaced by pure pleasure.

tom finds a steady pace, his head still buried into my chest as his lips work against it, leaving purplish marks in place of their kiss. my ability to speak is long gone, desperate mewls of his name spilling from my lips as he grabs my hips, using them to speed up his thrusts even more. he moves his head closer to mine, somehow managing to kiss my lips at a slow pace, tongue exploring my own whilst his cock thrusts in and out of me far more relentlessly than ever before.

“doing so good for me, missed this pussy so much…” his praise is cut off by short and almost inaudible groans every few seconds, his nails digging into my waist whenever i clench around him. he pulls his head away from mine, and through half lidded eyes i see his own gaze flash to the large mirror behind us, his pace faltering momentarily as his expression changes, eyes darkening. and before i can question why, he quickly pulls out of me as i whine at the loss of contact, not having long to complain as he takes my body, bending it over the counter as i now look at myself in the mirror, mouth falling open as he thrusts into me once again.

the new angle is almost too much, my body now fully bent over the counter as i almost lose my balance, eyes squeezing shut and eyebrows furrowing. i can feel every inch of him inside of me, every vein seeming to leave its mark inside my walls as i clench around him. my head falls downward, close to being flush against the counter, though tom reaches around to grab my face, forcing me to be level with the mirror once again.

“no no no.” he mutters breathlessly, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he pauses, holding my face harshly in his hands, his grip likely to leave a mark. “watch yourself. look at those pretty faces you make as i fuck you.”

my eyes almost roll backwards when his tip prods directly against my g-spot, fighting the already strong urge to close, determined to comply with tom’s request as he continues to hold my face, his eyes locked on mine through the mirror. his muscles tense with each harsh movement, face twisting lightly after each thrust, the noises he lets out becoming more and more unrestrained as he gets closer and closer to his release.

“i’m so close.” he groans, finally letting go of my head, trailing his hand downward to rub fast circles on my clit, pushing me closer to my climax as the knot in my lower stomach begins to tighten. my legs buckle at his movements, quickly becoming overstimulated as i try to keep myself upright, pressing my body firmer into the counter. tom’s dick begins to twitch inside of me, signalling that he really is close, the soft groan that leaves his lips quickly followed by a much louder one as ropes of his thick cum begin to shoot into me. his head falls backward, low curses pouring from his lips as his cum continues to spill into me, his fast and deep thrusts fucking it upwards, followed by my own release. my hands clutch onto the counter desperately, using whatever little strength i have left to hold myself up, eyes locked on tom’s face as he cums, milking his cock slowly until he can no longer keep going.

he slides out of me, a mix of our juices seeping out of my hole, soon collected by the tissue that tom grabs from the side. sweat lines his body, showing just how tired out he is, if the loud and heavy breaths that leave his parted lips don’t show it enough. he lazily lifts me onto the counter, standing between my legs and pecking my lips softly, doing so repeatedly until our breathing has returned to its normal pace. he slides my panties on for me, grabbing his own boxers and quickly slipping them on, leaving the rest of our clothes on the floor. his forehead rests against mine, hands reaching to move any loose hairs out of my face.

“i meant it.” he states quietly into the silence, his lips ghosting against mine as i look back at him in confusion.

“you meant what?” i ask, my arms wrapping loosely around his neck. he smiles weakly, his thumb coming upward to stroke my cheek gently as i lean into his touch.

“when i said i loved you. i meant it.” no matter how daunting his confession is, he never looks away, his brown eyes searching my own as he blinks slowly. “i know i was a dick when i said it the first time. i didn’t want to scare you away, because i know it was just sex. and don’t get me wrong the sex is great, but it’s been more to me for a while. it did slip out, but i meant it, and i still mean it.”

my eyes widen, unsure of what to say, slightly hesitant to believe him instantly and instead wondering if this is just another ploy to fuck with my head, like he had done the last time. after a few seconds, i attach my lips to his, the kiss much softer than before, lacking the lustful intent behind it that had brought us to this position. he smiles into it, his hands resting on my lower back as his thumbs creates soft circles over the skin.

“i love you too.” his eyes light up at my response, arms wrapping tightly around my waist as he pulls me into a hug, lips pressing short kisses to my shoulder. he pulls away after a few seconds, smiling and reaching down to hand me my dress, quickly slipping on his own clothes and helping me down from the counter. he glances at the mirror, noticing that it is steamed up, his eyes lighting up as a childish idea flashes across his mind.

‘we just fucked :)’ i giggle quietly as he guides me out of the bathroom, glancing quickly at the mirror and reading the messy writing spread across it, hitting his arm playfully. he flashes me a quick smile, placing a hand on my lower back as we rejoin the party, my eyes immediately locking with the boy from earlier. tom quickly spots where i am looking, his eyes darkening as he refuses to look away. instead of walking toward him and starting a fight like i had expected, he places a hand firmly on my ass, kissing my lips roughly, his eyes still locked on the guy as he scoffs, shaking his head and walking elsewhere.

“i told you that he wouldn’t go anywhere near you. you can’t tell me i don’t stick to my word baby.” he smirks in my direction, taking my hand in his and leading me through the crowd, glancing behind him every so often to make sure that i am okay.

thank god for truth or dare.

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#tokiohotel #tomkaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz angst #kaulitz #tom kaulitz fluff #bill kaulitz

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