#though it will not be the last one posted
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luveline · 3 days ago
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Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹
You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.
“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 
“Too early to make fun of me.” 
“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 
His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 
You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 
“Why?”
“I smell.” 
He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.
He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 
“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 
“It’s nearly twelve.” 
“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 
You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 
He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 
“What counts as the wrong thing?” 
Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 
“Thank you!” you call back. 
This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 
Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 
Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 
You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 
Is that Spencer?
You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 
He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 
“There’s actually a good joke that–”
“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 
You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 
“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 
“What!” 
“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 
Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 
“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 
Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”
“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 
He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 
“Cruel,” you quip. 
Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 
You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 
“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 
“Not anymore?” 
You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 
“Not a chance.” 
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mytherapyisreading14 · 3 days ago
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Drunk Confessions
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Summary: You got drunk during a night out with your best friend and accidentally send your Professor a photo of you in lingerie. Now you try to avoid him, which is not really working.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader
Category: Smut (18+ MDNI)
Warnings: alcohol consumption, dirty talk, dom!spencer, semi-public sex, hair pulling, thigh riding, spanking, fingering, praise kink, multiple orgasms, oral sex (kinda, he comes in her mouth)
Word Count: 4,6k
Author’s Note: My last posts got so many likes, I didn’t expect that at all, thank you sm!! <3
Your alarm goes off - 8:30am. You groan. Your head is pounding and the sun shining into your room is just way too bright. Your stomach turns and you close your eyes to escape the wave of nausea. You slowly sit up and search for your phone on the nightstand. It feels like your head is going to explode. You reach out and unlock the screen, turning your alarm off.
It's way too early. And you drunk way too much last night. It was a chaotic but nice yesterday, a night full of laughter, way too much alcohol and karaoke. Your best friend celebrated her birthday and you promised to go to your favorite bar with her. You have to smile when you think back to the night and start checking your messages. You see that she already texted you this morning to find out how you are doing.
How are you?
I have the worst headache after last night
It was fun though, wanna go again tonight?
Just kidding, I feel like I need a week to recover from this
You can’t help but laugh and answer her quickly. You are about to put your phone away to finally get ready when a new chat catches your eye. You freeze in shock. It’s your Professors name. The one you’ve been crushing on since you saw him for the very first time.
Back when you found out that you were getting a new professor, you didn't expect much, a lecture like any other with someone who was only concerned with reciting his material. But then he entered. He came through the door and for a moment it seemed as if time stood still. The room, which had just been immersed in the murmur of conversation, suddenly became silent.
He was tall - taller than you expected and his presence filled the room in a way that you couldn't put into words. He wore a simple but elegant suit that somehow effortlessly fit him perfectly. His hair was a little longer, curly and fell slightly over his forehead. And then he looked up. His big, brown eyes met yours and in a split second everything became clear to you. You immediately knew you wanted, needed, this man.
Now you stare at the chat in complete horror. He recently gave you his number for a project. That's how this whole texting thing could even happen. Your heart is pounding in your chest. Obviously you can't remember texting him. You were so drunk yesterday that you can't even remember how you got home.
You open the chat - and your heart stops for a moment. It wasn't just a message that you sent him. It was a photo. Of you, in lingerie. It’s one of your favorite sets, you got it a couple of weeks ago. "I wore this for you today, Professor. Do you like it?” You wrote in addition to the photo.
Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. You just stare at the screen, the picture of you that you should never, ever, ever have sent. And the worst part: He read it. But didn't reply. Confusion and panic spreads through you. You jump out of bed, your feet barely finding purchase on the floor, and your heart keeps racing. You try to think clearly, but your thoughts are a complete mess.
You reach for your phone again and frantically tap on the chat with your best friend, but you pause and call her instead. "Hello?" Her voice still sounds sleepy and hungover. “Oh my God, I need your help!" you gasp and immediately start telling her everything.
The line is silent, then you hear a short laugh. "Wait a minute... what? You did that?" You close your eyes and search for the right words. But before you can say anything, it hits you like a blow. You also have a lecture with him today.
"I’m not coming today," you tell her. “You can't just cancel!" she says immediately, and you hear her getting herself settled in her bed. Her voice sounds determined, but also worried. "You know how it is, our seminar today. We can't miss it. We said that celebrating wouldn't stop us," she says. "Celebrating isn't what would stop me either. Seeing him definitely is," you say and lean back with a groan.
You close your eyes and sink even deeper into the pillows. Your stomach clenches when you think about it. She’s right, You really have to go today. But the text, the picture that you sent him - what if he wants to talk to you about it? Or worse, he reports the whole thing?
"I can't just sit in front of him today and pretend that everything is normal. I sent him a picture of me in lingerie... I can't face him. It's just... it's just too much!" There is silence on the other end of the line for a moment. She still hasn't said anything, and you know she's thinking. Then you hear her take a deep breath.
“Okay, the thing with the picture, that's really... a little crazy. But hey, you can skip the lecture. Just disappear after the seminar and then hide in your apartment. Or you can go and hope that when you run into him, he'll do completely different things after you seeing this photo. I bet you looked hot, was it the new set you recently bought?” she asks and you can hear her grin even though you're on the phone.
Obviously she knows about your crush on your professor. You couldn’t stop talking about him after your first lecture and she took every opportunity to tease you about it. You look at your phone as if it were the only thing that could help you think clearly. Of course she's right. You have to go to your seminar. And you can really skip his lecture. Still, the idea that he might be thinking about it makes your heart beat faster and not just in excitement.
“You're right, I... okay, I'll come," You say after a short pause, but the thought of maybe running into him still makes you nervous. “You'll see, it won't be as bad as you think. You'll get through the seminar, it's only an hour. And then we'll be out and we can take our time for everything else. And you'll just avoid your favorite professor today," she continues to teases.
“Today? More like forever," you mutter and finally get up, even though the thought of getting out of bed still paralyzes you. “See you soon then. I'll shower and get dressed now, then I'll come. Let’s meet outside the building, okay?" you ask. "Sure!" she calls out happily. "See you soon and don’t forget to wear another fancy set for your professor today. Just in case you run into him,” she jokes.
After you hang up you put the phone on the pillow and stand there for a moment, your legs heavy, your head still about to explode. But then you take a deep breath. It'll be fine, you just have get through the seminar. With a sigh, you go into the bathroom and take painkillers first. Then you start getting ready.
You turn on the water and let it run hot. A short time later, you go into the shower. The hot steam envelops you and slowly your body feels a little alive again. The nausea subsides and the hangover becomes more bearable. After the shower, you get dressed in peace - black skirt, a comfy sweater and your favorite sneakers. You quickly walk through the apartment again to make sure you packed everything and when you leave the house, you somehow feel less like a wreck.
-
The smell of freshly served pasta is still in your nose as you say goodbye. You got lunch together after your seminar and it was nice to get a little break and talk about everything that happened. Now you are ready to leave but you still have to go to the library to get a book that you need for your upcoming assignment first.
“I still have to go to the library," you tell her, pulling your bag over your shoulder. “Are you coming with me?” you ask her. “I’m sorry, I have to pick up my sister now. But be careful, you don’t want to run into your favorite professor, or do you?” she teases again. “I’m not going to run into him. I’ll hurry up and leave immediately. I’ll call you later. See you tomorrow," you say and give her a quick wave before you set off.
-
The campus is full of students rushing through the halls, carrying their books around or sitting in groups and discussing. You slip into the library and head straight to the section where the book you need is. Unfortunately it’s at the top of the shelf and you realize that you probably won't be able to reach it. You jump up a few times, but the distance between you and the book just seems too big. You sigh. If only you were a little taller.
As you attempt the jump for the third time, you suddenly feel a presence building behind you. One that seems familiar. Your heart beats faster and a nervous tremor takes hold of you. You turn around and stare straight into Professor Reid's eyes. He is standing just inches away from you and you can hear the soft sound of his breathing.
The look he gives you is almost piercing - warm, but somehow also searching. He leans forward slightly without saying a word and effortlessly grabs the book with one hand. You avoid his gaze as he hands it to you. “Thank you," you murmur, trying to hide the slight nervous tremor in your voice. He nods and stands still for a moment.
"You weren't at my lecture today." You stare at the book in your hands and feel your stomach clench. This is not good. “I..." you take a deep breath. "I haven't been feeling so good. My head..." He waits, his eyes still fixed on you, and you get the feeling that he wants to hear more. You feel his gaze on you and when you finally raise your eyes to look into his eyes, there is a silent understanding, and for a moment you wonder if there’s more. “Sick, or...?" he asks calmly. You hesitate and bite your lip.
"I went out partying with my best friend yesterday, it was her birthday… we drank a little bit too much and... well, I'm not feeling so good today. That’s why I skipped." His expression remains neutral, but something in his gaze changes. You can hardly believe it, but it's almost as if he's interested. He frowns slightly. "I understand," he then says. "But it's not ideal to miss class, especially when important topics are involved."
You nod. “I know, Professor. I won’t happen again.” You just want to get out of this situation, and as you try to take a step back he stops you. "No, wait. I need to talk to you." You pause and turn back to him. "About what? I don’t really have the time -" you begin, pretending you don't have any idea what he wants to talk about, when he cuts you off.
"Doesn’t matter, it’s important. We'll sort it out in my office." His gaze is intense as he steps towards you. The thought of him asking you to come to his office makes your heart beat faster. The idea of ���​being alone in a room with him is tempting. "Okay," you say quietly, unable to prevent a nervous tingling from spreading in your chest. You follow him, even though your legs feel like they're made of jelly.
He leads the way, his steps calm and determined, and you can barely keep your eyes from lingering on his back. As soon as you reach the door to his office, he opens it and lets you enter first. You step in, your heart now beating loudly in your ears. The moment he closes the door behind you, you realize that it is more than just a conversation about the seminar.
The look he is giving you now is not the look of a professor. It is the look of a man who wants more than just academic discussions at this moment. And the thought that you’re alone with him in this room inevitably leaves you nervous and intrigued at the same time.
As the door closes behind you, you’re left breathless for a moment. His office is quiet, almost too quiet, compared to the crowded hallways outside. The room is sparsely decorated, except for the desk covered with stacks of paper and a few personal items. He is still standing at the table, his arms loosely folded in front of his chest and looks at you.
"Sit down," he says calmly, pointing to the chair on the opposite of the desk. You hesitate, then finally sit down, your heart pounding in your chest. The nervous energy inside you grows as you try to organize your thoughts. Before he can say anything else, you can’t hold it back any longer. The words come out of you hastily, almost in a rush, and you feel your body tense.
"The picture, it was a mistake! I didn't mean to... It wasn't meant for you. I was drunk, and it was stupid of me, really. I'm sorry." You look at the table, avoiding his gaze. But as you say the last words, you immediately notice how the atmosphere in the room changes. He remains silent for a moment, but then his body language shifts slightly - his gaze becomes more intense, the tension between you almost tangible.
"Hmm," he says after a pause, his voice deep and calm, "so the picture wasn't meant for me?" You flinch when you hear his question. What exactly does he want to hear? What does he want to know from you? You try to stay calm and answer hesitantly.
"It... it's none of your business." His expression hardens instantly. "It is," he says, and his voice sounds sharper, more determined now. "Because you sent it to me." Your heart beats faster as he continues. "I don't think it was an accident, even if you were drunk. You wanted to send it to me. And you did."
A cold shiver runs down your spine. You open your mouth, trying to say something, but you can't find a way to defend yourself. Instead, you just stay still, looking at your hands, which are resting nervously on your lap.
He laughs quietly, a mocking, almost challenging laugh. "So you're really sure it was an accident, huh?" He slowly leans forward, rests his hands on the table and looks straight into your eyes. The look in his eyes has changed, and something in his expression shows you that he is the one in control.
"Do you really think I haven't noticed how you look at me in class? How you keep watching my hands? How you press your thighs together when I approach you?" His words hit you and you freeze for a moment. Your cheeks burn hot, you feel your heart pounding uncontrollably, but you keep quiet. Everything inside you screams to defend yourself, but you stay silent because you know he’s right.
"I noticed from the beginning, angel," he continues, and a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t believe he just called you that. It turns you on immensely. "I know you didn't just do it because of the party and the alcohol. You also sent it to me because you wanted to." He leans further forward, his presence overwhelming, and you can't help but feel small even as you try to assert yourself.
You open your mouth to say something, but the words stick in your throat. What could you say? That he's wrong? That would be a lie. “You sent it to me," he repeats, his voice now almost like a command. "Because you wanted to show me. And I don't think it was an accident. You were drunk, yes, but you wanted me to see you like this."
Your body is paralyzed. It feels like the room has suddenly become smaller. You can hardly breathe. His words and his look have completely captured you in that moment. “I... uh," you begin, but the thought that he is in control, that he sees you like this at this moment, leaves you speechless and you’re unable form a proper sentence.
He remains silent, only his eyes continue to focus on you. "You have to understand that you can't just play with me like that." His gaze becomes more intense, and for a moment it seems as if he wants to say more but then he slowly stands up, walks around the table and stops right in front of you.
"I'll show you something," he says in a calm but unmistakable voice. "And you will understand why it wasn't just an accident." Your heart beats faster. His hand reaches for your chin, lifting it up and tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. Your breath hitches and you lean closer, craving his touch. “Get up and lock the door for me,” he says and pulls his hand away slowly.
You do as your told immediately and when you turn around, he is sitting on his chair with his legs spread. He looks so hot and you desperately clench your thighs together to relief the pressure between your legs. “Good girl. Come here,” he says and pats his thigh. You shiver in excitement and when he notices a grin spreads across his face.
You go over to him and when you stand in front of him, he pulls you down into his lap. He leans forward to whisper into your ear “That’s what you wanted, right? To be my good girl. That’s why you send me that picture. You wanted to end up here,” he says and places his hands on your hips. You press yourself closer against him and inhale his scent, he smells like cinnamon, peppermint and aftershave, it’s addictive.
However, you get interrupt by his hand reaching into your hair to pull your head back. You gasp in surprise and he leans closer to you, looking deep into your eyes again. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer,” he says and you can feel yourself getting even wetter. “Yes, that’s true. I - I always wanted that,” you manage to say and he releases your hair, satisfied with your response.
Then he leans forward and you finally feel his lips against yours. It’s even better than you always imagined and you start to grind against his leg, desperate to release the friction between your legs. But Spencer quickly stops you. “Did I allow you to move?” he asks and you shake your head.
He sighs in disappointment but before he can say anything you quickly answer him. “No, you didn’t,” you say and his grip on your hips looses a little. “That’s right. I didn’t. And you’re not allowed to move until I tell you to. You’re going to listen to me and do exactly what your told, do you understand?” he asks. “I understand.”
“See, it’s not that hard. You listen to me, you behave and you’ll get your reward. Now, do you want to ride my thigh?” he asks, his hand slowly sliding behind your back to your ass, squeezing it. “Yes, please. Can I?” you ask and he leans forward to kiss you again, his tongue exploring your mouth. When he pulls back you can see his eyes sparkling with lust. “So polite, I like that. Yes, you can,” he says and you finally go back to moving against his thigh.
It feels good, so good and when Spencer starts to slide one hand under your shirt to grab your breasts you press closer against him. You can feel that you soaked your underwear trough and wearing only a skirt, you can already see a small wet stain on his pants. His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “Someone’s needy,” he says and you nod, leaning against his chest, grinding down more against him.
“Spen - Spencer, I’m going to come,” you whimper but he pulls you back by your hair again. “It’s Sir for you, angel,” he says and you correct yourself immediately. “Please Sir, can I come on your thigh now?” you breath out and he grabs your hips again, stopping you.
“No, not yet,” he simply says and you whine when he stands up and you lose contact. “But I thought - “ you start but he doesn’t let you finish. He turns you around and pushes you down onto his desk. “Doesn’t matter what you thought. I decided I’m not letting you come yet,” he says and flips over your skirt to expose your underwear to him.
“I see, another pair then the ones you wore yesterday. I’ve got to admit, I prefer the other ones, but you look pretty anyway, angel,” he says, sliding his hands over your thighs and your ass. “Last night when you send me that picture, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits and you can feel your whole body reacting to his words.
A wave of confidence flashes through you. “Did I keep you up last night, Sir? Did you have to stroke your cock while you looked at my picture? Thinking about all the ways you want to fuck me?” you ask him and turn your head slightly back to look at him with a smirk on your face. His eyes darken and he tightens his grip.
“Oh you have no idea, angel. I’m going to show you exactly what I was thinking about last night,�� And suddenly you feel a harsh smack on your ass. He just spanked you. And you liked it. Your breath hitches and you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. You don’t want anyone to find out what’s going on in here.
His hand strokes the spot he just hit before going further down to pull at your panties. He takes them off and stuffs them into his pocket. You are convinced you’re not going to get them back. Then you feel his long, slender fingers sliding between your legs before he presses onto your clit. You gasp in surprise and try to press against him but his grip on your hips is firm, holding you still.
Then he pushes two fingers inside you. “So fucking wet.” His eyes wander over your body down to your legs hungrily, appreciating every curve and every spot. “I’ve never seen such a pretty pussy. And it’s all mine now. You’re all mine now,” he says. The way his fingers move and the way he stares at you intensely feels just way too good.
When his thumb goes back to your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, you can feel how your orgasm builds up inside of you and you can no longer hold back your moans. “Spencer - Sir, feels so good. Please,… I need more,” You clench around his fingers and he quickly puts a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. “Shh, be quiet, angel. As much as I would love to hear all these lovely sounds you make, I don’t want to get interrupted. Not now, when I finally have you, after all this time.”
His fingers curl inside you and keep hitting your g -spot. You clench around them, he notices and chuckles. “Can I - please,” you stutter. “Yes angel,” he says, already knowing what you’re asking for and you come around his fingers. You never had such an intense orgasm from foreplay before, but you don’t mind. It’s even better than you always imagined.
He wants to give you a moment to recover but you want more. You somehow manage to turn around, even though your legs feel like they are going to give in any second and push yourself up on his desk. He looks surprised and opens his mouth to say something but you interrupt him by pulling him closer by his tie.
You wrap your hands around his neck and rank your fingers through his soft, brown hair before kissing him. You moan into his mouth and he groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “Thank you, Sir. That was amazing,” you say with a smirk on your face when you pull back. “Now is the time to lose your pants and relax, I want to return the favor.”
“As much as I want to see you down on your knees with your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, we don’t have much time left. Office hour starts in less than 30 minutes. And I need to fuck you. So drop it and spread your legs for me. Now,” he demands and you obliged, sitting further back on his desk with your legs spread.
He takes a step back and starts to unzip his dress pants. When he takes out his cock your eyes widen. He is even bigger than you expected. “Are you on the pill?” he asks while he starts to pump his cock. “I am,” you say. “Good. I want to fuck your pussy and then, since you suggested sucking me off, come inside your mouth. I want you to taste me. You don’t swallow until I say so. Do you understand?” he asks, sliding his cock through your folds to tease you. “Yes Sir, I understand,” you whimper and he wastes no time and pushes inside you.
His first thrust already make your eyes roll back and you feel like you’re going to die from the intense pleasure. Your legs wrap around his waits and your hands are on his back, pressing him even more against your body. Everytime a whimper or a moan escapes your mouth his thrust become deeper, rougher and faster. You can feel him throb inside you and he keeps hitting your g- spot over and over again.
One of his hand is sneaking through your breast, squeezing it and toying with your nipple. You graze his back with your fingernails and make sure to leave marks on him. Your mind goes blank and you lose yourself in the pleasure completely. After a few more thrust you can feel the orgasm building up inside of you. “Close,” you breath out and he nods. “Me too. You can come on my cock now.”
You let go and your orgasm is even more intense than you expected. You moan his name so loud that he quickly covers your mouth with his hand again. He picks up his speed and a few thrusts later he pulls out of you to shove his cock into your mouth. You can feel his cum inside your mouth and taste him, just like he told you to. He watches you closely the whole time while he recovers from his own orgasm.
“Now swallow,” he says and you do. Then he pulls you forward with both of his hands to kiss you. The kiss is different this time, more gentle and caring, not just full of lust. When he pulls back you both smile. “I guess sending you this picture was not bad at all. And I was so worried.” He laughs. “I’m glad you send it, angel. Now I finally have you all to myself. It's a shame I couldn't take more time for you right now. There's a lot more I'd like to do with you,” he says with a mischievous smile on his face. “Why don’t you show me after your office hours, Sir?” you say with a smirk on your face. “Make sure to be here on time, angel.”
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cat0901h3 · 2 days ago
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Goosebumps Books 1-10
Can't believe that it took me nearly two years to just do 10 covers for the books. Will be posting more Goosebumps in the future, along with other stuff.
Read more to know my personal opinions and critiques on my fanart for each book:
Welcome to Dead House: I wanted to make the house look alive like Monster House, so I gave it more human characteristics (ie: the people in the windows to form eyes, or the finger-like branches.) Also paid homage to a horror film by styling it after The Amityville Horror house.
The Benson children themselves look a bit depressed, that's because the first book is actually more scarier than the rest of the series, so they're a bit angsty.
Stay Out of the Basement: This one killed a lot of my green markers lol. I tried to make Dr. Brewer as menacing as possible while still showing that he is a father with the photos, There were going to be more plants reaching out, but I decided that the leaves hidden on him would be enough.
Though I have to admit my disappointment with the lighting. It still looks a bit too bright, and not dark enough. That's just my own critique.
Monster Blood: Honestly, pretty mixed about this one. While I'm proud of the bubbling ooze that looks like a skull, which is outlined by one of my colored pens. I'm not proud that everything else is so muted with brown. Almost all of Jacobus' works are vibrant and saturated, so it being dull in colors feels like a disservice to him.
Also, Andy's last name was made up by me, she apparently just doesn't have one. It's inspired by Stephen King. Btw, hope you love banana and strawberry dyed hair, you'll see more of it soon in future batches.
Say Cheese and Die!: One of my favorite books, and of course it gets the best fanart imo. The screaming skeleton form of Greg Banks with red bg in the polaroid, contrasting with the dark background is just super cool, coolest shit I've ever done. Though I might be biased, I really like skeletons. Like Curly.
I actually made concept art for a Say Cheese and Die! graphic novel, which includes drawings of the photos and Spidey! Let me know if you're curious.
The Curse of The Mummy's Tomb: Not much to this one honestly. Just a mummy casually busting down a wall filled with hieroglyphics. Though I will say, I was experimenting with shading with purple and blues like Jacobus. As you can see, didn't stick for long.
This is also the book that I discovered that if the protag doesn't have a last name, then there is an official one either in the Presents novels, the mobile app, comics or other.
Let's Get Invisible!: This was pretty tricky to draw. Drawing someone turning invisible maybe easy in Photoshop or Procreate, but this was traditional art. Sure Jacobus did it with airbrushes, but I all had were pens and markers. But I somehow managed to pull it off, which is insane that I even managed that in the first place.
Night of the Living Dummy: Ah, the infamous Pamela Vorhees book, where the main antagonist isn't the mascot, but instead some other puppet lol. I've seen a lot of fanart of Slappy, but never of Mr. Wood. So I wanted to do justice for Wood while still showcasing Slappy. While I am proud for how it mostly turned out, there are two things that bother me. 1. This is the night sky that is black, the rest are either blue or purple. 2. I forgot to add the lines that make the jaw on Mr. Wood, whoops.
Aside from that, I hope guys like that Misfits poster in the background and Kris's cool hair cut. The green was inspired by the comic adaption not 2015 Jacksepticeye.
The Girl Who Cried Monster: Please forgive me for the small thumbnail, I wasn't using a ruler at the time. The design for Mr. Mortman wasn't much of a challenge. I loosely based it off of the French rendition of the cover and gave him a large leech-like mouth.
In my headcannon, the teeth spin like a garbage disposal, making easy work of the turtles.
Welcome to Camp Nightmare: Another one of my favorites, and I think I did a decent enough job, too. The lighting is perfect, the clouds look alien enough, and you can just barely see the screaming campers inside the tent. I do have one issue though, and that is the size of the monster, Sabre. In the original sketch I did, he was supposed to blend in like a bush, but instead he looks like Sasquatch Sr. Oh well.
While they did give Billy a last name in the Presents books, I had to make up one for Dawn. Just based it off Gwen Stacy lol. Also, hope you enjoy the little bonus pictures down below.
The Ghost Next Door: The original Jacobus art was perfectly vague enough to keep the twist there but not spoil anything. Of course to do the same thing, but with a twist of my own. The "ghost" shadow that you see in the street is the Dark Figure that follows Hannah around or when Danny is near. I wanted it to look like it was constantly on fire, since SPOILERS: someone in the book does die in a fire.
Another headcannon is that the Dark Figure isn't actually a ghost or whatever, but instead the embodiment of Misery.
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cursingtoji · 2 days ago
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the cardio machine i want is on the cardio machine
cw: gym rat toji x loser!gf - size kink, sweat kink (?), toji is a big old meanie. loser!gf series: geto gojo nanami.
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loser!reader who, like a million other sedentary people on new year’s eve, said “new year new me” and proceeded to enroll at the local gym.
gym rat!toji who knew how things are in the beginning of the year, so the first week he arrives one hour earlier than usual to avoid all the lazy fucks that won’t last two months.
of course he makes a few mental bets on the ones that would quit and how long it would take, you included.
it’s easy to spot the “i don’t want lift weights cause i don’t want look jacked” type of girl.
at the breaks between one set and the other he looked around, not surprised to see you slowing down the treadmill after running not even two whole minutes.
sometimes he caught you staring at him through the mirror, not an uncommon occurrence amonst the women there, though you surprised him one day by tapping his shoulder after he finishing his weighted squats.
“can you… give me a few tips?” he looked so intimidated, from up close his shoulders looked like a wall, he stared at you from above, dark green eyes seemed to be heavily judging you, “never mind this was a bad idea, sorry” you turned around, grabbing you bottle and running off the gym.
by the time you managed to gather the courage to show your face back there two whole weeks had passed.
“consistency is the key you know” you were distracted looking down your phone while slowly walking the treadmill when the handsome man appeared beside you, the sudden presence destabilized you.
before you could become the viral video of the week when inevitably a gym employee decides to post the security footage of your ass rolling off the active treadmill, toji wrapped one big arm around your waist and pulled you to the stable floor.
“you caught me off guard the other day” he said completely unfazed by saving you from a life of embarrassment, “then you disappeared.”
“yeah i didn’t know if i wanted to come back anyways, i haven’t see any results so far” you pulled the hem of your shirt down.
toji snorted, “‘course you ain’t seeing results, sweetheart, you don’t lift.”
“well, it’s hard…” toji rolled his eyes, there was always an excuse.
though he also did a new year’s resolution of being more patient, for his kids primarily but teaching a cute thing like you could be a good exercise too.
soon enough, toji was correcting your form, texting you asking why you haven’t showed up to the gym and ringing your bell incessantly when you complained about muscle pain and said you wouldn't go that day.
“it’ll feel better once you start to move” he explained, resting on your door frame when you opened the door on your pajamas.
“let me alone, just today” you whined.
“you asked for my help now go put on something without cartoons on it” he waited for you to turn around and slapped your butt. it had been only one week he was coaching you but there was already a weird intimacy due to the fact he was pretty much always looking at your body and touching you.
to correct your form. obviously.
"what do i have to do today, coach fushiguro?" you asked from your bedroom through an ajar door which allowed toji to get a peek at your pink underwear and cute ass.
"cardio, bicycle first. get some blood flowing on those sore muscles" he tilted his head and raised his eyebrows watching you bend over to grab a biker shorts at the lowest drawer then holding back a laughter at the grunt of pain coming from you.
"once it gets better i can teach you other types of cardio" he walked around your kitchen examining your cabinets and stuff you kept in your fridge. needless to say it was all junk.
"can't wait" you replied sarcastically, failing to understand the meaning.
it took a few more days till you got used to toji's training, then he decided to focus on your upper body.
"such a simple movement, how do you manage to get that wrong?" he raised from the bench he was sitting behind you watching your form through the mirror. you almost dropped the weights at your feet when he came close. it was almost scary how much bigger than you he was especially seeing it throght the mirror. his right hand wrapped around yours on the dumbell and his bicep touched your arm as he pushed your arm closer to your body, "tuck your elbows in, straight your back" his free hand pushed your shoulders till they were touching his chest.
how come he smelled so good, so... musky and...
"are you even making any force?" he lowered his head, his reflection looking annoyed. so you decided to ignore the sudden heat between your thighs and flex your arm the way he taught you.
and just like he promised, when you were consistent enough and handling a good 5 minute run he decided to show you a more pleasing cardio.
"toji please~" you whined, thighs burning from riding him, you were using his rock hard abdomen as a support, but still.
"one more minute, come on" he looked at the watch on his wrist and slapped your ass, "haven't i prep-ed you good enough?" his thumb rubbed your bottom lip then pushed in meeting your tongue, where you tasted yourself in his digits one hour after he ringed your bell and said he was going to reward your good discipline, but he had to strech you first.
"good girl" you felt his abdomn flex when he raised from his laying position on your bed, "now leave it to daddy" he pecked your lips and quickly changed positions, putting a pillow under your ass and rolling his neck to start his cardio of the day.
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sashaforthewin · 16 hours ago
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Mine are from EarPeace and the thing I like most about them is they are in a little metal holder that clips onto my keys, so I literally always have them with me. Sometimes I forget I'm going to a show, but hey, they're right there on my keys! Sometimes I go to a spur of the moment show and hey, got those earplugs with me! Sometimes the train is an older one that has a horrible loud screeching, I just pop in these bad boys and enjoy a non-painful ride! I even use them while I'm blowdrying my hair because that thing is surprisingly loud.
Earplugs, GET SOME!
The foam ones work but I recommend getting a nicer pair. EarPeace, Eargasm, High Fidelity, Hearos, and a bunch of other brands all have a filter to let in sound but block anything over a certain decibel, and they often come with interchangeable filters so you can switch from concert to noise canceling. They last a long time, I've had mine for years and haven't needed to replace anything.
Loop don't have filters, it like echoes the sound around the little hollow ring to quiet it. I haven't personally tried them but I've seen a lot of reviews for the noise canceling version, no clue if it distorts the sound though I would assume they're fine since I see people wearing them at shows sometimes.
Unless you're going with the fancy custom fit ones, you're looking at around $40 or so a pair, just double check the reviews and the stats. And once you decide on a pair, sign up for their email list before buying, all those brands I listed regularly have sales so you don't typically even have to pay full price.
I chose mine because the stats were best for the price range and it came with a third plug as a backup in case I lose one mid-show. But even if you're not ready to shell out for a fancy pair, at the very least use the foam ones, most bars at venues sell them for a dollar or two if you forget. Just don't rawdog a concert, I promise you you can actually hear the songs better when you cut out the noise and the post concert experience is much more fun without tinnitus
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minswriting · 21 hours ago
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Different Kinds of Treats - Roommate Spencer Reid x Reader
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About: Spencer bakes brownies and walks in on reader masturbating and ends up maturbating to the thought of her. Later on, they end up fucking.
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, mentions of addiction but nothing in detail, season 4 Spencer, porn without plot, Spencer bakes to relieve stress, roommate Spencer, masturbation (f & m), walking in on someone masturbating, protected sex (reader on birth control), no condoms, p in v, desperate and needy sex, whiny reader and whiny spencer, creampies. not proofread because I am sick and have a cold. we are raw dogging life man
Word Count: 2.3k
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Baking was one of Spencer’s favorite things to do. It began about a year and a half ago when Spencer had decided to get clean. Any time he felt a craving, he’d look up a recipe. Any time he felt the biggest urge, he’d bake something. And slowly, that baking turned into a genuine passion for him where it was his favorite way to decompress after a long case.
And he adored how you were always so excited whenever he baked something.
You moved in about a year ago. Amidst Spencer’s withdrawals, he also felt as though his apartment was too lonely, too cold and that he needed someone to fill the space. That way, whenever he came home from a hard and long case, he could at least not be completely alone. He had posted an ad in the local newspaper and you were the first to respond. You were both the same age, you had a lovely career here in DC, he had Penelope do an extensive background check on you and you were completely clean. It all worked out, honestly. It also helped that you were very pretty but Spencer never allowed himself to admit that out loud.
The apartment was filled with a nice chocolatey aroma as Spencer had just finished baking brownies. He had gotten back from a long case last night and needed to decompress as he finally had a day off. It was a Saturday so he knew you didn’t have to work. Spencer waited for the brownies to cool before cutting a piece for you. He grabbed one for himself as well and made his way to your bedroom. He figured you were napping as it was two in the afternoon and you were still in bed. So what greater way to be woken up than by having brownies in your face?
When Spencer made his way to your bedroom, he gently and carefully opened the door, making sure not to drop the brownies. He had expected to be met with your sleeping form, slow breathing with your lips parted. Instead, he was met with your legs spread open with your fingers buried inside of you. Though he did get one part right. Your lips were indeed parted. Both pairs actually.
Spencer’s eyes widened at the sight. He stood there in shock, holding the brownies. The sight of you fucking yourself with your fingers made all the blood from Spencer’s head rush to his groin. You hadn’t even realized Spencer opened your door, too caught up in your own pleasure.
Your eyes opened and as you saw Spencer, you gasped out his name, “Spencer,” while trying to cover yourself up. Spencer gasped and quickly turned around.
“I-I’m so sorry,” He choked out as he was about to walk away before realizing he needed to close your door. He grabbed the door knob, closing your door with a slam as he rushed to his bedroom and slamming the door behind him. He still had the brownies in his hand. He placed them on top of his dresser before letting out an embarrassed groan. He hadn’t meant to walk in on you masturbating. His IQ of 167 was slashed as his brain was full of just images of you.
All he could think about was how your pussy was glistening, your fingers covered in your juices. Your chest had been moving up and down from the pleasure. The way you let out the tiniest whimpers. God, Spencer was aching. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this. But he just couldn’t help himself.
“Damn it,” Spencer said to himself in frustration. “Your head is turning into a damn potato,” he said all while looking down at his cock as it strained in his pants.
He quickly undid his pants, standing in front of his dresser. He tugged his pants and boxers down, revealing his hard cock. Precum was already on the tip, showing just how much the whole scene turned him on. He didn’t bother teasing himself, feeling far too desperate to prolong the experience. He gripped his cock with his left hand, stroking himself hard and fast.
“O-oh fuck,” He moaned, unable to help the noise from escaping his lips as he thought about you. It really shouldn’t have affected him this much. Masturbation was a normal part of the human body and therefore, you were more than allowed to give yourself release. And yet, Spencer couldn’t help but wish it were him that could make you feel so good.
He thought about how you would taste. How it would feel to bury his head between your thighs and feel you cum on his tongue. Or how your walls would feel clenching on his fingers. And don’t even get him started on how you would feel on his cock. He wanted to fuck you so badly, to make you cum from his cock would literally be a dream.
Spencer whimpered, thumbing the tip of his cock as he stroked himself. His other hand gripped the edge of his dresser, eyes pinched shut as he thought about how much he wanted you and all the ways he would have you. He wanted to make you feel so good. And with a choked moan of your name, Spencer came in his hand so hard. He was grateful that he was holding onto the dresser as he most definitely would’ve fallen from how intense his orgasm was.
When he came down from his high, Spencer took a deep breath, opening his eyes as he looked down at himself. His cum had landed on the dresser, himself, and his hand. He felt guilty at getting off at you. You were his roommate, one of his closest friends. And yet, he couldn’t deny how hot you were.
Later in the day, after Spencer had cleaned up and spent some time alone in his room, he went out to the living room to sit on the couch and read a book. At least he tried to read it. It was hard when his mind was still so consumed with you.
You had finally emerged from your room, dressed in a simple day dress as you walked into the living room. Spencer tried to keep his gaze on his book, turning the page as he did so, acting as though walking in on you hadn’t affected him as much as it did. That was until you stood in front of him, looking down at him. “Did it turn you on?” You asked suddenly, confronting the awkward moment from earlier.
“Did what?” Spencer replied, keeping his voice neutral as he tried to keep his gaze on his book.
“Walking in on me.” You said, grabbing the book out of Spencer’s hands and tossing it to the side. “Did it turn you on?”
Spencer frowned before looking at you and as he did, all he could think about was how beautiful you looked lying on your pillows with your fingers deep inside of you. He felt his cock hardening in his pants again. “I-“ Spencer interrupted himself to swallow, unsure of what to say.
“Because I heard you,” You exclaimed, tilting your head. You moved to take a seat on Spencer’s lap, straddling his legs. “Moaning as you got yourself off. Did you like watching me finger myself?”
Spencer didn’t know what to say or how to react. You were there, on his lap, asking him a question. His brain had completely turned into mush. He quite literally couldn’t think. Instead, he just leaned up and captured your lips with his. You responded immediately, kissing him with hunger and need.
Neither of you were gentle or slow with it. The moment your lips met, clothes came off quickly after. You had unbuttoned Spencer’s shirt, throwing it somewhere in the living room while Spencer had lifted your dress, tossing it behind him. The inherent need to just feel one another was driving both of you. You only lifted yourself off of Spencer’s lap to take his pants and boxers off only to move back onto his lap.
Spencer put his hands onto your breasts, massaging the flesh as he leaned in to kiss your neck. The soft noise you made when his lips touched your skin was quite literally his reason to live in this moment. Your hands were in his hair, entangling your fingers with his curls. Spencer sucked on your pulse point, causing you to gasp.
“Need to feel you,” You breathed out, moving Spencer’s head with your hands as you leaned in to kiss him again. You could feel his cock pressing against your thigh, just waiting to slip inside of you. You didn’t care much for the foreplay at the moment as all you wanted was his cock.
“W-what about a condom?” Spencer murmured, pulling away from the kiss to look at you with his beautiful brown eyes. “A-and are you sure you’re ready?”
You licked your lips, nodding your head. “I’m on the pill. And I think earlier shows that I don’t need to prepare anymore.” You let out a small giggle, causing Spencer to let out a tiny giggle as well.
“If you’re sure,” Spencer said softly, moving a hand to caress your cheek. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” You reassured, giving Spencer a soft smile. The way he worried made your heart swell. Your hands were still in his hair. “I promise.”
Spencer kissed your lips once more, this time more softly. The reality of the situation was unspoken feelings that neither of you had ever been willing to admit. Not even right now, as you sit on his lap. But those feelings could be addressed another time.
You took one of your hands and moved in between the two of you, grabbing Spencer’s cock. You gave it an experimental tug, causing Spencer to gasp against your lips. He pulled away from the kiss to look up at you, moving his hands to your hips. You guided his cock to your entrance, slowly easing yourself onto his length. You both let out moans, basking in the pleasure. When you sat completely on his length, you stayed still for just a moment, adjusting to his size.
“You’re so wet,” Spencer breathed out, lips parted and eyes hooded with lust. His breathing was a bit heavier than before, showing just how much this was affecting him.
“You’re so big,” you replied, keeping yourself still. You relished in being filled. The fact that you had been dreaming about this for so long and now it was finally happening dawned on you. And after a few moments, you began to move.
To say it was heavenly was an understatement. Spencer had never felt this good before and the fact that it was with you was making things ten times better. He didn’t shy away from making noises, letting out whimpers as you slowly bounced on his cock. His fingers dug into your hips, holding onto you tightly. “Oh my god,” he moaned, throwing his head back in pleasure.
Your hands rested on Spencer’s shoulders, stabilizing yourself as you watched Spencer’s reaction. Your own moans filling your ears along with his. “You feel so good,” you moaned. The way his cock moved inside of you was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined. Your pace quickened, causing you both to whine in pleasure.
“Y-you’re so tight,” Spencer stuttered, licking his lips as he looked at you. His chocolatey eyes were blown out, his skin flushed from the heat of the situation, his hair was messy from your fingers. God, he looked so sinful. He moved one of his hands to your left tit, massaging the flesh with his palm.
“S-Spencer,” you whimpered, closing your eyes as you rode his cock.
Spencer let out his own whimper, hearing his name leave your lips as you got off on his cock was going to be ingrained in him forever. “Fuck,” he moaned.
The both of you were needy, grabbing onto one another and kissing each other while you moved your hips. Spencer started meeting your movements with his own thrusts, causing you both to moan louder. The way his cock started hitting your g-spot dead on made you grasp at Spencer to stabilize yourself. “Oh my-oh fuck,” you whined, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his.
“I’m so close,” he moaned, fucking into you. The pace was hard and quick, showing the desperation between the two of you.
“M-me too,” you stuttered as the two of you looked at one another.
It didn’t take long until you were cumming. Your thighs were shaking, you were whining Spencer’s name in a mantra. He fucked you through your orgasm before cumming inside of you with a shout of your name. He stopped moving as he came, holding you still as he filled you up with his cum. The two of you were breathing heavily, basking in the post-orgasmic air.
And when you both came down from it, Spencer pulled out of you, causing his cum to drip onto his lap and onto the cushion of the couch. But neither of you cared at that moment. Silence overcame the two of you as the room was filled with the sounds of your breathing.
After about a few minutes of silence, you spoke, “So,” you said breathily. “What about those brownies?”
Spencer was unable to help the laugh that escaped him as he caressed your cheek. “I guess we can have some brownies.”
Brownies were always delicious after having a mind blowing orgasm.
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xiaq · 3 days ago
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Story time: Amazon can go fuck itself, and other genteel thoughts.
Good evening. I’m angry.
Up until now, I’ve purchased the majority of items I can’t thrift from Amazon because it’s easy and cost-effective, despite the moral qualms I have about the company. Previously, support was simple. If an item was damaged or a package didn’t arrive, you hopped on chat/the phone, provided proof, and they gave you a refund or return label.
But some shitstain from on high has introduced a new “incident report” process when something goes wrong. You submit your details, you wait 72 hours, and then they give you a refund. This would also be fine. If it fucking worked. But I have, at this point, irrefutable evidence that this is not actually how the process is intended to work. It’s meant to drive you so far up the wall that you either die from a stress-induced heart attack, or rage quit, and they get to keep your money.
In the last several months, I’ve had to submit three incident reports for damaged and undelivered items (I’m also encountering a lot more issues with item delivery, but that’s a different story).
ALL THREE TIMES, the process has taken weeks rather than days because ALL THREE TIMES they conveniently “had no record” of multiple incident reports I submitted despite the fact that I had confirmation emails each and every time.
Now, I’m a petty bitch, so even though the hours I was spending checking in, waiting on hold on the phone, being passed from agent to agent, was not worth the $10 and $20 refunds I was trying to get them to honor, I wasn’t going to give up. This last time, though. Oh they really tried.
So. My item isn’t delivered. I submit an incident report on the 12th and get my confirmation email of the submission on the 12th. I haven’t heard back by the 14th so I call and check. Shockingly, they have no record of my report. I submit another one, get another confirmation email. I call back the next day to check they received it. They have not. I beg them to let me forward the confirmation emails I have. I ask what else I can do different. They tell me to submit a new report and hang up on me. I submit another report. I receive another confirmation email. I call the next day. Can you guess? They have no record of it. This time, I ask for them to stay on the line with me while I submit a new report and confirm it’s been received. He confirms receipt and promises I will receive a response by the 21st. I record this conversation because I have a suspicion.
Hello. It is the 21st. Have I received a response? No. I call back. THIS ASSHOLE, who I’m pretty sure is reading this shit from a script, says, (are you ready for this) “There’s no record of an incident report, you’ll need to submit one.” I insist that I had confirmation in writing and verbally. She insists it does not exist.
So I tell her. I now have four confirmation emails. I have a recording of an Amazon support person with their credentials assuring me with the product number stated, that they’ve received my report. I also have been recording this conversation. And if she cannot assist me, I will be posting those emails and both recordings to every social media platform I have, filing a BBB complaint, and checking with my lawyer to see what options I have for legal action (do I have a lawyer? Of course not. But she doesn’t know that).
Immediately, she is backpedaling. “Oh, let me check again, maybe I missed it.” Less than 30 seconds later she’s back on the line. “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, I do have your report here. I will process a refund now.” Shocking. I am shocked.
IT SHOULD NOT TAKE THIS MUCH EFFORT TO GET A COMPANY TO HONOR THEIR PROMISED LEVEL OF SUPPORT.
Jesus Christ.
B and I will be finding different local places to purchase items we tend to buy via Amazon now, because I have every intention of ending our Prime membership. It looks like between Costco and Target we should be covered.
Anyway. No point to this except to rant. Thanks for reading if you got this far. I’m going to go lay under the weight of my dog and try to get my heart rate down.
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angelseraphines · 3 days ago
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ೃ⁀➷ you can be the boss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱
╰┈➤ boss!cho sang-woo x employee!reader imagine
a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!
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˚ ༘♡ you had started working at joy investments a few months ago, a job you knew from the beginning you weren’t particularly suited for. numbers, spreadsheets, and statistical analysis felt foreign to you, but the evening hours worked well enough while you attended university. the pay was sufficient, and the promise of experience at such a reputable firm was worth the initial discomfort.
˚ ༘♡ getting hired had been a grueling process. three separate visits. a preliminary interview, where they assessed your general competence, followed by a secondary round that tested your ability to handle pressure. the final round had been the most nerve-wracking, a panel interview that felt as though they were peeling back layers of your personality, searching for weaknesses. when you were finally offered the position of secretary in the business investment sector, you accepted without hesitation. the role was simple, answer phones, manage the endless cascade of paperwork, coordinate schedules, and ensure the office ran like a well-oiled machine. simple, but draining.
˚ ༘♡ your department was overseen by cho sang-woo, an investment banker with a reputation that preceded him. you met him on your first day. he was tall, with sharp features softened only by the polished glasses perched on his nose. his ironed grey suit fit him perfectly, a testament to his meticulous nature. he was polite but distant, his words clipped as he showed you to your workspace. his focus shifted elsewhere as quickly as he arrived, consumed by the weight of responsibilities you could only guess at. despite his calm demeanor, there was something captivating about him, his quiet authority, the precision in how he carried himself, the faint traces of fatigue that made him seem more human.
˚ ༘♡ the first few weeks were suffocatingly mundane. you answered endless phone calls, most from irate clients demanding updates on investments you barely understood. your inbox overflowed with documents needing filing, scanning, or distributing. appointments had to be coordinated, schedules revised, and egos soothed. it was work that tested your patience, and yet, you did it without complaint. mr. cho rarely spoke to you beyond pleasantries, his days swallowed by meetings, late-night calculations, and hushed phone calls.
˚ ༘♡ on the rare occasions you stayed late, you noticed he often did too, seated at his desk with his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up, poring over spreadsheets or fielding yet another call. it became an unspoken routine for you to bring him coffee when you saw the office lights still on. he would glance up from his work, his glasses reflecting the faint glow of his computer screen, and offer a quiet, “thank you.” it wasn’t much, but something about those brief exchanges stayed with you during the long walks back to your desolate apartment.
˚ ༘♡ perhaps it was the contrast, how someone so stoic and seemingly untouchable could look so worn under the harsh fluorescent lights. or maybe it was the way he always acknowledged you, even in his busiest moments. either way, his presence made the monotony of the job feel a little less stifling.
˚ ༘♡ one evening, long after most employees had gone home, the office was quiet, the buzz of the city outside muffled by thick glass walls. the sky outside was smeared with hues of deep blue and violet, a harbinger of nightfall. after hours spent rearranging meetings, your eyes burned, and the air inside felt stale. you decided to step out for a moment, seeking the cool relief of the evening breeze.
˚ ༘♡ you pushed open the back door of the building and paused. mr. cho was there, leaning casually against the wall, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. wisps of smoke coiled lazily around him, catching the last rays of light. he looked… wretched. the angular lines of his face made obscure by an expression you couldn’t quite place. the glassy sheen in his dark eyes hinted at something far away, something melancholic.
˚ ༘♡ “i’m sorry,” you murmured, startled. “i didn’t mean to interrupt. i’ll leave you to it.”
˚ ༘♡ he turned his head slowly, shaking it. “no need. stay. i don’t mind.”
˚ ༘♡ his voice was steady, unhurried, like the rest of him. you hesitated, then let the door fall shut behind you. descending the short staircase, you stood a few paces from him. the city sounds, car horns, the hum of distant chatter, filled the silence between you.
˚ ༘♡ without a word, he took out a cigarette and held it toward you. surprised, you accepted, pressing it between your lips. he struck the lighter with a practiced flick, the small flame reflecting briefly in his eyes. leaning in, you felt the scathing heat as the cigarette caught.
˚ ༘♡ “you’re new here, aren’t you?” he asked after a moment, exhaling smoke that curled and dissipated into the night air.
˚ ༘♡ you nodded, drawing in your first hesitant puff. “yes, sir. i have been working at joy investments for about four months now.”
˚ ༘♡ “hmm.” he studied you, his gaze intent but not unkind. “interesting. some of the secretaries here have been around for years, yet you do a better job than most of them.”
˚ ༘♡ his words struck you, unexpected and disarming. “thank you, mr. cho. i try to do my best,” you said softly, your voice almost lost in the city’s backdrop.
˚ ༘♡ you stood there together, the silence stretching long but never uncomfortable. you flicked the ash from your cigarette, watching the tiny embers fall and scatter on the ground. eventually, you put it out against the metal railing and tossed it into a nearby storm drain. mr. cho didn’t move, still leaning against the wall, staring into the distance as you murmured a polite goodnight and slipped back inside.
˚ ༘♡ later, when your shift ended, you gathered your coat and scarf, bracing yourself for the cold walk home. you were buttoning your coat when you spotted mr. cho by the lobby doors, speaking with another member of his team. his presence was magnetic, even in passing.
˚ ༘♡ what surprised you was how he excused himself mid-conversation, turning to approach you.
˚ ༘♡ “are you walking home?” he asked, his tone more direct now. “it’s late, not exactly safe out.”
˚ ༘♡ you mulled over the proposition, your fingers tightening on your scarf. “i don’t mind the walk. it’s peaceful at night. i live in eunpyeong-gu, not too far from here.”
˚ ༘♡ he frowned slightly. “eunpyeong-gu?” he repeated, as though thinking over the distance. “i’m heading to ssangmun-dong. it’s on the way. let me drive you.”
˚ ༘♡ his words were more command than offer, but there was a warmth beneath them. he retrieved his keys from his blazer pocket, the metallic jingle cutting through the stillness.
˚ ༘♡ you nodded, accepting his generous offer graciously. “thank you, sir. i’d appreciate that.”
˚ ༘♡ his car was sleek and black, understated but undeniably expensive. he opened the passenger door for you without a word, the leather seats felt comfortable against your skin, and the faint scent of cologne and tobacco drifting in the air.
˚ ༘♡ the drive was quiet. the city lights of seoul blurred into long streaks through the tinted windows, and for that passage of time, the world outside felt far away. mr. cho said little, his hands steady on the wheel, his dark eyes fixed on the asphalt road ahead.
˚ ༘♡ when he pulled up to your building, he shifted the car into park but kept the engine idling. his eyes flicked to you, dark and unreadable, his usual composure fraying at the edges. “get home safely,” he said, his voice quieter than it had been all evening.
˚ ༘♡ you paused, your hand on the door handle, the chill of the outside air seeping in through the crack you’d opened. the thought of leaving the car, of letting the night end like this, made your heart ache. before you could think twice, the words slipped out. “would you like to come inside for tea? i was planning to brew some.”
˚ ༘♡ his brow lifted slightly, the slightest sliver of surprise crossing his features. he considered your offer for a while, he said nothing, merely staring ahead at the dashboard as if he was working through some internal debate. finally, he exhaled. “tea would be nice,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.
˚ ༘♡ you led him up the narrow staircase to your apartment, the silence between you thick but not awkward. the soft hum of the building’s fluorescent lights filled the lounge area, and you could feel the subtle feeling of his presence behind you. when you unlocked the door and stepped inside, the herbal scent of lavender from an old diffuser greeted you. the space was modest, organized but lived-in, with books stacked haphazardly on a coffee table and a blanket draped over the couch.
˚ ༘♡ “make yourself comfortable,” you said, slipping off your coat and setting it over a chair. he stood just inside the doorway, his tall frame almost too large for the small entryway, his hands shoved into his pockets like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.
˚ ༘♡ “you have a nice place,” he said after a beat, his voice tender but strained.
˚ ༘♡ you offered a small smile, glancing over your shoulder as you moved toward the kitchen. but you didn’t make it there.
˚ ༘♡ when you turned back, he was closer, standing in the dim light of your apartment like he wasn’t entirely sure why he’d followed you in. his eyes caught yours, and the short space between you felt like it dissolved in an instant. neither of you spoke, but the air was charged, something unsaid yet painfully understood passing between you.
˚ ༘♡ his hand reached out first, tentative, brushing against your arm as if testing the waters. when you didn’t move away, his grip tightened, and suddenly his mouth was on yours, fierce and urgent, like he’d been holding back for far too long. the scent of him, tobacco, something woodsy, filled your senses, and your hands moved instinctively, fingers digging into the fabric of his wool blazer.
˚ ༘♡ your back hit the wall softly, and then his hands were at your waist, his body pressed against yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. it wasn’t careful, and it wasn’t slow, it was messy, a tangle of mouths and hands, you were two people trying to lose themselves in each other for just a little while.
˚ ༘♡ you barely registered how you ended up in your bedroom, your coat and his blazer discarded somewhere along the way. the dim light from the streetlamp outside spilled through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. the bed was warm, and so was he, but there was an ache beneath it all, an edge of something desperate and passionate.
˚ ༘♡ when you woke the next morning, the light was harsh, spilling through the cracks in the curtains and illuminating the reality of the night before. you stirred first, the weight of him beside you a reminder of everything that had happened in that heated entanglement.
˚ ༘♡ he was awake, lying on his back with an arm draped over his face. his dress shirt was wrinkled, and his tie hung loose around his neck, half-forgotten. there was a tension in his posture, his hands clenched into fists, his lips pressed into a thin line.
˚ ༘♡ “i should go,” he said finally, his voice hoarse, hardly above a whisper. he didn’t look at you as he lifted himself over the edge of the bed, sitting there for a minute, trying to mentally gather the strength to move.
˚ ༘♡ you watched him, your heart sinking deeper with every passing second. “you don’t have to go,” you said delicately, your voice barely above a whisper. you reached out, your fingers brushing against his shoulder, hoping to mend this disaster in a pathetic gesture of affection.
˚ ༘♡ he tensed under your touch but didn’t pull away. “this shouldn’t have happened,” sang-woo muttered, his voice thick with self-reproach. “i’m your superior. i’m over twice your age…” his words trembled as he exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his black hair. the carefully calm demeanor he usually wore at the office was ebbing away, slipping through the gaps. “fuck, where are my glasses?”
˚ ༘♡ his frustration wasn’t directed at you, but it stung all the same. his gaze swept the room until he found them, the frames haphazardly thrown to the floor. he bent down to retrieve them, clutching them tightly in his hand.
˚ ༘♡ standing upright, he looked at you for the first time since he spoke, his expression torn with anguish. “i’m sorry,” he said, and for once, the words that left his lips sounded unpracticed, raw and genuine. “i shouldn’t have done this. i shouldn’t have taken advantage of my position over you.”
˚ ༘♡ you stayed where you were, the blankets tangled around you, half-dressed and vulnerable. his words landed like small cuts, brutal and wounding. “if this is your way of saying it’s the first and last time, just say that,” you said, despite the hurt bled through. “don’t hide behind excuses.”
˚ ༘♡ his eyes glistened with something, regret, guilt, or maybe even longing. “no,” he said, stepping closer, hesitant but determined. his hands reached for your face, his touch warm and grounding. “of course i would love to see you again, but how can we? i’m your boss. you work for me. it’s an abuse of power, and if anyone found out, we’d both be ruined. management at joy investments wouldn’t hesitate to fire us for violating corporate policy.”
˚ ༘♡ “then we keep it a secret,” you replied, your voice laced with desire, your gaze locked with his.
˚ ༘♡ sang-woo let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking his head slightly. “you think i wouldn’t want that? you think i wouldn’t want to steal moments with you, even if no one could ever know?” his voice dipped lower, almost a plea. “but pretending not to care about you when we’re in public, keeping my distance, watching you from across the room as if you don’t mean more to me than anyone else…” he broke off, rubbing his temple. “it would drive me insane.”
˚ ༘♡ “weren’t you already doing that?” you said, a small grin tugging at the corner of your lips.
˚ ༘♡ he blinked, then chuckled lightly despite himself. “i was maintaining professional boundaries,” he admitted, though the words sounded hollow now. he slipped off his glasses, polishing the lenses absently with the edge of his sleeve. “boundaries i’ve crossed in every possible way last night.”
˚ ༘♡ he paused, his gaze returning to yours, weaker now. “so maybe you’re right,” he added, his lips curving into a wry, self-deprecating smile. “what’s left now for us to ruin?”
˚ ༘♡ the affair continued in shadows, a secret tether binding the two of you as the world moved obliviously around it. at work, everything appeared as it always had, professional, restrained, unassuming. he never lingered too long at your desk, never glanced your way for more than a few fleeting seconds. if anyone noticed anything amiss, they never said a word. yet, behind closed doors, the charade unraveled.
˚ ༘♡ sang-woo would text late at night, asking to see you, his messages never too explicit but unmistakable in their intent. you would find yourself in his car again or at a hotel just out of town, places chosen carefully to avoid recognition. in those moments, he was different, a vulnerable man. his hands would hold you like he couldn’t bear to let go, his lips pressing against yours with a hunger that belied the restraint he showed the rest of the world.
˚ ༘♡ but even as his touch ignited you, doubts began to creep in. at first, they were small, quiet things, easily dismissed when he whispered your name like it was the only word he cared to know. yet over time, the flaws became unfathomable to ignore.
˚ ༘♡ you started to notice how he never stayed too long after. he always had somewhere to be, an early meeting, an obligation with colleagues, an excuse that left you alone in bed, staring at the ceiling. at work, he was cordial but cold, his focus fixed on maintaining appearances.
˚ ༘♡ “we have to be cautious,” he’d say, his tone firm but not unkind. “you know how people talk. one rumor and it’s over for both of us.”
˚ ༘♡ you nodded each time, swallowing your sorrow, pretending it didn’t sting. but it did. the secrecy, the pretending, the constant tug-of-war between what you wanted and what you could have, it wore on you.
˚ ༘♡ weeks turned into months, and though the moments you shared with him were still intense, they began to feel hollow. you weren’t just hiding from the world; you were hiding from yourself.
˚ ༘♡ you started to wonder what you were to him. not a girlfriend, he never called you that. not a partner, because partners didn’t live in secrecy. what was the point of loving someone who couldn’t even say your name without glancing over his shoulder first?
˚ ༘♡ you confronted him one evening, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “what are we doing? what am i to you?”
˚ ༘♡ he froze, the usual calm, calculated expression gone. “you’re everything to me,” he said finally, but the words felt too rehearsed, too easy.
˚ ༘♡ “then why does it feel like i’m nothing?” you asked, your voice cracking.
˚ ༘♡ he rubbed the back of his neck, pacing the room like a man trapped. “it’s not that simple. my position, my reputation, it’s all i have, sweetheart. if people knew about us, it would ruin everything i’ve worked for.”
˚ ༘♡ “and what about me?” you shot back, the heat rising in your chest. “do you think this doesn’t ruin me? hiding, pretending, giving everything to you and getting scraps in return?”
˚ ༘♡ his shoulders slumped, and for a second, you saw something raw in his eyes. “i love you,” he said, and you believed him. but love wasn’t enough, not like this.
˚ ༘♡ “then prove it,” you said bitterly, your voice shaking.
˚ ༘♡ he didn’t answer, and the lack of answer spoke louder than any explanation could. he was a man desperate for respect, for the image he’d spent years crafting and perfecting. and you were an unfortunate deficiency in the foundation, a risk he wasn’t brave enough to take.
˚ ༘♡ as you stood there, the existence of your situation all settled on your shoulders. you realized you were giving pieces of yourself away to someone who could never give you the same in return. and for the first time, you weren’t sure if you could keep doing it.
˚ ༘♡ he reached for you, his touch hesitant, but you stepped back. “sang-woo, i can’t continue being your secret,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i deserve more than that.”
˚ ༘♡ he didn’t stop you when you left, and that, more than anything, told you everything you needed to know.
˚ ༘♡ he spent the next few weeks trying, in every way he knew how, to reach you. his texts came first, short, imploring messages that grew more desperate with each passing day.
˚ ༘♡ you never responded, deleting them as soon as they appeared. then came the emails, written in his typically formal tone but laced with an underlying urgency that bordered on uncharacteristic. he didn’t beg, but the underlying message was clear, he was losing his sanity over you.
˚ ༘♡ at work, sang-woo started appearing in places he never had reason to be, near your desk, by the break room, even in hallways he had no meetings to attend. every time, his eyes would search for yours, pleading silently for something, acknowledgment, forgiveness, anything to mend the chasm that had opened between you. but you refused to meet his gaze, your resolve hardening even as your heart ached.
˚ ༘♡ eventually, he stopped. no more texts, no more emails, no more waiting outside your office. it was as if he’d resigned himself to your silence, as though he understood you had no intention of reopening the door he’d closed with his hesitation.
˚ ༘♡ but not at heart.
˚ ༘♡ you saw it in the way he carried himself now, his body tensed, his stride slower, his face devoid of the quiet confidence he used to exude. in meetings, he seemed distracted, his eyes landing on you only to dart away when he thought someone might notice.
˚ ༘♡ when you passed each other in the corridors, the pain in his expression was unmistakable. he didn’t try to speak to you anymore, but the way he looked at you, like you were something he’d lost and could never reclaim, was worse than any words he could have said. it was agony, for both of you, and you felt it every time.
˚ ༘♡ you told yourself this was for the best, that you couldn’t live your life tied to someone who wouldn’t fully claim you. you told yourself that his claims of love wasn’t enough when it was buried beneath secrecy and shame. but those rationalizations didn’t stop the hollow ache in your chest every time you caught his reflection in the glass of the office windows or saw his hands fidgeting during a presentation.
˚ ༘♡ he wasn’t just grieving the loss of you, he was punishing himself for it. you saw it in the way he avoided the employee lounge now, where you might be, the way he no longer stayed late after work, perhaps because the silence reminded him of what had once been. he was a man unraveling in slow motion, and though it hurt to watch, you knew you couldn’t be the one to put him back together.
˚ ༘♡ you told yourself you couldn’t think of him forever. and yet, in the quiet hours of the night, when you lay awake in your empty apartment, you found yourself wondering if he was awake too, staring at the ceiling, trying to forget you the way you were trying to forget him.
˚ ༘♡ when he suddenly stopped showing up one day, you told yourself it didn’t matter. you’d spent weeks distancing yourself from him, building walls to protect the fragile peace you were trying to restore in your life. his absence should have been a relief. you should’ve been grateful for the quiet. but instead, it gnawed at you.
˚ ༘♡ you reasoned he might have taken a business trip or been sent to a conference. yet, as the days stretched into weeks, the silence surrounding his disappearance became impossible to ignore. whispers began to circulate in the office, snippets of overheard conversations that sounded too wild to believe.
˚ ༘♡ “forgery,” someone murmured near the coffee machine. “embezzlement,” said another, their tone tinged with disbelief. “siphoning client funds, can you imagine? what an idiot.”
˚ ༘♡ you dismissed it at first, refusing to entertain the thought. rumors spread like wildfire in the corporate world, often fueled by jealousy or boredom. but the uneasy feeling in your chest wouldn’t leave.
˚ ༘♡ unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, you sought out the manager of all investing departments, a stern man known for his no-nonsense approach. he seemed surprised when you asked about cho sang-woo but didn’t wait to provide an answer.
˚ ༘♡ “it’s true,” he said bluntly. “he siphoned money from client accounts to fund personal investments, stocks, futures, the works. lost every cent. he’s disappeared now. hasn’t answered calls or emails. if he shows up again, he’ll be fired on the spot and handed over to the authorities unless he reimburses the clients in full. but, between you and me, i doubt he has the means.”
˚ ༘♡ you stood there, numb, the significance of all that occurred with you ignorant to it all pressing down on your chest. sang-woo, austere, professional, and fiercely intelligent, had done this? the man you thought you knew, who always carried himself with precision and dignity, had thrown everything away on a gamble?
˚ ༘♡ you wanted to be angry, furious that he could have made such reckless choices. but instead, all you felt was an overwhelming wave of worry. where was he now? what was he doing? was he even safe?
˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t stop yourself. you called his number, your fingers quivering as you pressed the digits. it rang and rang, only to cut off. no voicemail. you texted him, pleading for an answer, any sign that he was okay. nothing.
˚ ༘♡ the lack of response was unbearable, so you did the only thing you could think of, you went to his neighborhood. it was an impulsive decision, driven by a pitiful dismay you couldn’t suppress.
˚ ༘♡ you arrived late in the evening, the streets quiet under the dim glow of streetlights. his building loomed ahead, its windows dark and uninviting. you buzzed his unit at the entrance, your heart pounding in your chest.
˚ ༘♡ no response.
˚ ༘♡ you buzzed again, and again, your desperation mounting with each unanswered call. finally, an older tenant passing by offered to let you in, probably mistaking your apprehension for something more passive. you murmured your thanks and slipped inside, the air in the stairwell gloomy and stale.
˚ ༘♡ you reached his door and knocked, the sound echoing in the stillness. “sang-woo?” you called out, your voice exhausted. “are you in there?”
˚ ༘♡ nothing.
˚ ༘♡ pressing your ear to the door, you strained to hear any sign of life, a shuffle, a breath, anything. but the apartment was silent, as if no one had been there for days.
˚ ༘♡ a burdened pang pierced at your chest, and you leaned against the doorframe, fighting the rising surge of fear. what had happened to him? where could he have gone?
˚ ༘♡ you tried to tell yourself he’d resurface eventually, that this wasn’t your responsibility, but it was a hollow comfort. the man you’d loved, the man you may still love, was out there somewhere and you couldn’t bring yourself to let go.
˚ ༘♡ you stayed at the door longer than you should have, staring at the splintered wood as though it might suddenly yield. but it didn’t, and you left with a growing sense of unease. it wasn’t until you stepped onto the street, cold air biting your cheeks, that you caught sight of him.
˚ ༘♡ he was farther down the block, walking briskly, his head low, his shoulders hunched against the evening chill. his clothes were rumpled, his actions were quick and uneasy, like he was trying to outrun something. you stood still, watching him for a few minutes before instinct kicked in.
˚ ༘♡ you followed him at a distance, your heart pounding harder with every step. he didn’t notice you as he turned a corner, heading toward a dingy motel that sat on the edge of the neighborhood. the neon sign buzzed faintly, flickering erratically, casting a sickly green glow on the pavement.
˚ ༘♡ he disappeared inside, and you hesitated for a moment before pushing through the door. the motel’s lobby smelled of stale cigarettes and mildew, its yellowed walls decorated with faded prints of generic landscapes. you saw him again, down the narrow hallway, his motions slower now as he unlocked a door and slipped inside.
˚ ༘♡ you followed, your pulse a chaotic drumbeat in your ears. when you reached the door, you knocked, first lightly, then harder. no response.
˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo,” you called, your voice low but steady. “it’s me. open the door.”
˚ ༘♡ nothing.
˚ ༘♡ your hand hovered over the handle, and when you pressed down, it gave way. the door creaked open, revealing the dim, suffocating space beyond.
˚ ༘♡ the room was barely lit, a single bulb flashing weakly overhead. clothes were draped haphazardly over the back of a chair, and an empty bottle sat tipped over on the nightstand. the air was thick, the scent of alcohol and something that reeked of chemicals clinging to every surface.
˚ ༘♡ then you saw him.
˚ ༘♡ he was in the bathroom, the door half-open, slumped in the narrow, grimy tub. the water was filled to the brim, cloudy and tinged with a faint, sickly hue. an empty soju bottle dangled from his hand, his head tilted back against the tiles. his shirt was half unbuttoned, clinging damply to his skin, his face pale and weary.
˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t move. your breath caught in your throat as you took in what was haopening, the torment of the painful scene before you hitting you all at once.
˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo,” you said, stepping into the bathroom, your voice horrified. “what the hell are you doing?”
˚ ༘♡ his head turned slightly, his gaze unfocused but intense enough to bore into you. his lips twisted into something that might have been a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “what does it look like?” he muttered, his voice slurred and thick.
˚ ༘♡ you crouched beside the tub, grabbing the glass bottle from his hand and setting it aside. “you’re out of your mind,” you said, your tone hard but trembling beneath the surface. “is this your plan? to drown yourself in this… this mess?”
˚ ༘♡ he chuckled, the sound brittle and malicious. “it’s not a plan,” he said. “it’s… it’s only easier. don’t you understand? everything’s gone. the money, the clients, the respect. i lost it all. so what’s the point?”
˚ ༘♡ you wanted to shake him, to drag him out of the water and back into the real world. instead, you stayed where you were, staring at the man who seemed so far removed from the one you thought you knew.
˚ ༘♡ “you think this fixes anything?” you murmured. “you think disappearing into this terrible motel will make it all go away?”
˚ ༘♡ he didn’t respond, just let his eyes drift to the chipped ceiling.
˚ ༘♡ you stood, your hands quivering as you turned off the faucet and grabbed a towel, tossing it at him. “get out of the tub,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument. “dry off. sober up. and then figure out what the hell you’re going to do. because this?” you gestured around the room, your frustration emerging. “this isn’t an answer. it’s pathetic.”
˚ ༘♡ he flinched at the word, but he slowly began to sit up, the water sloshing over the edge of the tub. droplets clung to his skin, and his movements were sluggish, like he was dragging himself through quicksand. you didn’t offer to help, stepping back instead, arms crossed as the sound of water dripping onto the marble tiled floor.
˚ ༘♡ “oh my gosh, get yourself together,” you muttered, yet you sounded as if you were on the verge of tears.
˚ ༘♡ he didn’t respond, just sat there for a moment, his shoulders slumped, his hair plastered to his forehead. eventually, he grabbed the towel, wrapping it loosely around himself as he climbed out of the tub.
˚ ༘♡ the atmosphere was suffocating, dense with unspoken words and unacknowledged fear. he walked past you without meeting your eyes, water pooling on the floor with every step.
˚ ༘♡ then came the knock.
˚ ༘♡ it wasn’t loud or insistent, only a single, deliberate tap against the door. your eyes snapping toward the sound. for an agonizing instance, neither of you dared to act, the atmosphere shifting into something more solemn, something grave.
˚ ༘♡ “who is that?” you asked, your voice unstable.
˚ ༘♡ he didn’t answer, but his brow lowered, his unease evident. he took an unstable step toward the door, but before he could reach it, a card slid through the slit beneath.
˚ ༘♡ the stark white rectangle lay on the worn carpet, the edges crisp, as though it had been placed with care. you moved first, bending to pick it up, your fingers skimming the surface.
˚ ༘♡ when you flipped it over, you saw on one side there was a simplistic, unsettling design, a circle, a triangle, and a square, printed in bold black ink. the shapes were clean, symmetrical, and yet somehow they carried a dreadful presence.
˚ ༘♡ you turned the card over, the other side detailed a date, stating the twenty-third of june, and a location, which only stated it being as the same one was before, leaving you bewildered beyond comprehension.
˚ ༘♡ “what is it?” he asked, his voice rough, ridden with something between interest and dread.
˚ ༘♡ you held the thin piece of paper out to him, letting him take it from your hands. his expression darkened as he studied it, his fingers constricting around the card.
˚ ༘♡ neither of you spoke. the silence was unbearable, the air electric with implicit perplexity and the creeping realization that whatever this card was, it wasn’t random.
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a/n: a little longer than my other works, please let me know your thoughts and if you would like me to turn this into a series. part three of the professor cho-sang woo series is also coming soon!! 🤍
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308 notes · View notes
crowithy · 3 hours ago
Text
Gonna take this chance to ramble about the world building I swear I will post eventually, but just the points from this in no.particular order
- 3 moons (4 if you count the one that blew up)
- planetary rings (from the moon that blew up)
- no "true night" due to how much light is reflected from the moons and rings (think twilight and little to no stars)
- Moons aren't actually moons, they are dormant gods (sleeping like curled up cats) that slowly turned to stone. The moon that blew up was because of a fight amongst all 4 gods, against him. This fight was due to a disagreement about how to deal with the mortals during the "chaos times".
- a very rare "weather" pattern caused by mass death in one localized area. Unnamed as of yet but it's essentially a tornado of souls trying to rip itself apart, but inadvertently pulling itself together. (Like crabs in a bucket, it's not intentional but the act of trying to pull oneself free pulls everyone back in). This was very common during the above mentioned "chaos times" it's also partly how gods form.
- for the dragons of this world some cultures make carvings with inset gems on the horns. Often times the gems reflect the eye color of the dragons partner, or their partners favorite though this isn't exactly a rule.
- technically the dragons on the volcanic islands are obligate carnivores due to not having plants around the active volcanoes. Overtime they lost the ability to digest plants for the most part. The technically is also because on the rarer occasion they will eat rocks. Why? I forgot it's in my notes somewhere tho I'll figure it out eventually.
- due to all animals scaled up to dragonsize humans can't really have animal pets. They get bugs (and maybe some rodents but mostly bugs) the bugs aren't scales proportionally though, a random example is bees are the size of toddlers. Each human kingdom has a dedicated bug, with mixes of each specific species fulfilling some niches by irl domesticated animals (wooly moths acting as sheep, i would put more examples but so far only the moth kingdom is fleshed out) but msot have their own unique things. Bee hives are entire cities (though the cities in this kingdom do range on the smaller side, solely for the bees) which each houses having honeycomb integrated into walls and 2-10 "house bees" depending on size. They also get their own dedicated buildings on each street, for the "street bees". It's a very symbiotic relationship with the bees.
-two of my kingdoms mainly use sign language, the mermaids, due to verbal language not being applicable underwater, although they still use it on land as they prefer it. As well as my bee kingdom, due to having a high deaf population.
- one kingdom uses preserves vines wood and flowers for jewlery. The monarchs crown is even hand weaved by each successive ruler and magically preserved to last year's after their own death. After each ruler, small flowers from the crown are removed and incorporated into the new rulers crown and the largest is added to the throne. The oldest flower on the throne is 500 years old and is a now extinct flower.
- don't know if this counts but the bee kingdom uses honey or beeswax products as currency.
- magic tends to mutate the more exposure or by extensive use of it. Those born magically often often have some sort of visible mutation. For example, a non aquatic dragon may be born with gills. Someone might have an extra pair of wings, a split tail, four ears, an extra toe, one may become biolumecent and glow when injured, the tail tip of one may grow. This happens with humans too though less common.
- in relation to this, the magic mutations also are the reason dragons despite being wild different are able to hybridize. Think like dog breed except it was magic. This happened to humans too, there's mermaids,satyrs,elves,dwarves, but they are still technically human. There's also regular humans, but each still has some magic influenced trait. One kingdom has visible stripes, another has tails (not like animal tails just like if you extended a human spine). The mutations just depend on the amount of magic in the area
- speaking of magic, magic is caused by the moon dust and rocks that settled and landed on the planet. I mean its the corpse of a dead god
- one of the human kingdoms makes jewlry from bug exoskeletons
- the aquatic dragon kingdoms can change the color of their skin and communicates by creating patterns, with color acting as like tone indicators/punctuation. (They also have really soft scales because of this ability)
- the gods do *kinda* looks like people, if your counting dragons but in a weird messed up way. Like it's a mix of human and dragon features in a way that it's really neither. Idk if this really counts tho. There are lesser gods that look like neither but I'm not fleshing those out yet
- the main aquatic kingdom tends to make jewlery from sea glass more than crystals
-carnivorous unicorns
-carnivorous rabbits
And that's all I have that fits this
Small fantasy worldbuilding elements you might want to think about:
A currency that isn’t gold-standard/having gold be as valuable as tin
A currency that runs entirely on a perishable resource, like cocoa beans
A clock that isn’t 24-hours
More or less than four seasons/seasons other than the ones we know
Fantastical weather patterns like irregular cloud formations, iridescent rain
Multiple moons/no moon
Planetary rings
A northern lights effect, but near the equator
Roads that aren’t brown or grey/black, like San Juan’s blue bricks
Jewelry beyond precious gems and metals
Marriage signifiers other than wedding bands
The husband taking the wife's name / newlyweds inventing a new surname upon marriage
No concept of virginity or bastardry
More than 2 genders/no concept of gender
Monotheism, but not creationism
Gods that don’t look like people
Domesticated pets that aren’t re-skinned dogs and cats
Some normalized supernatural element that has nothing to do with the plot
Magical communication that isn’t Fantasy Zoom
“Books” that aren’t bound or scrolls
A nonverbal means of communicating, like sign language
A race of people who are obligate carnivores/ vegetarians/ vegans/ pescatarians (not religious, biological imperative)
I’ve done about half of these myself in one WIP or another and a little detail here or there goes a long way in reminding the audience that this isn’t Kansas anymore.
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aerofbreath · 1 day ago
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Actually writing something based off of this post. Y'all really seemed to like it and I got scared LOLOL
(How it will probably go (written poorly written cause it's almost 7AM and I haven't slept yet) . Also I have no idea what I'm doing. This will be rewritten better in a fic maybe.)
Jason sighed as he made his way into Gotham University's gym. It was the middle of the day and Jason was there at a Startup Event posing as a guy who was interested in what people had to offer. He had only had maybe a total of four hours of sleep since he had patrol the night before. Granted, this wouldn't have affected him as much if he was more mentally prepared to be awake. The only reason why he's out here was because Bruce had woken him up an hour ago to tell him a little last minute about what he needed to do today. Originally, the plan was to do absolutely nothing. But now he has to investigate a guy that Bruce had his eye on as of lately.
The person he's looking for is a man named Danny Nightingale. Apparently he's been in Gotham for a couple years and only recently started making a mess of things. How it went under Bruce's nose is beyond him considering how freaked out Bruce was once he did find out.
Apparently, the guy has been making life changing machines. Little mechanical bees have been flying around Gotham really just sucking up all the pollution in the air and just depositing it somewhere. According to the media, they go back to some headquarters and into a bee hive looking structure to deposit all the pollution and sludge. From the photos shown, it's actually pretty impressive. Some guy actually making a change around here.
For Bruce- no. For Batman, this is just highly suspicious. Why would some guy make these positive life changing machines? For the better? No. No genius with the power to change the world would do it for the better. There's got to be some ulterior motive behind it.
At least, that's what Batman thinks.
Jason thinks it's all interesting. Maybe there is an ulterior motive but even then, at a scale so large that it's literally affecting the city in a positive way? You've got to be literally more insane than the Joker if you wanted to plaster your face everywhere at an event like this. Everyone else at this event seemed to show promise but compared to Danny Nightingale's company? They're literally all small fry.
Surprisingly enough, however, no one else seems to be at Danny's booth. Not even Danny. Jason frowned as he approached the booth and just looked at the machines on them. The Bees are kind of just flying in place and the moment that Jason even looked at them, the Bees immediately got to work. They flew around him like a puppy with wings, nuzzling against him and bumping into him so dumbly. And honestly?
It was actually kind of cute. You would think that being on such little hours of sleep and being grumpy the whole morning would really affect the pits inside him but no. He's surprisingly calm.
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry! They don't usually act like this," a voice stuttered out. A man hastily walked towards Jason as he gently plucked the Bees out of the air and brought it close to him.
"Uh, don't worry about it. I thought it was kind of..." Jason trailed out before locking eyes with the man who spoke.
This was Danny Nightingale. He was much shorter than Jason, only standing tall at 5' 5". His hair was fully black with only a white money piece right on his bangs. And his eyes? An alluring blue with only a hint of green at the center of his eyes. Honestly, the sight of Danny just about took Jason's breath away.
There was a subtle glow to him, almost making Jason think of there being some sort of meta activity going on but looking around the people in the area, no one but him seems to notice. Danny was concerned about Jason, that much is obvious. The way his eyes burrowed in concern then into confusion. It's strange why just looking at him made Jason's heart skip a beat, even though in hindsight, Danny looks much worse off than Jason.
That man looks like he hasn't slept in 3 weeks. But even then he was...
"Cute..." Jason finally finished his sentence a little too late.
Danny blinked in confusion, tilting his head to the side. His bangs fall freely over his eyes. Just the sight of that almost made Jason blush. "My bees were cute?" Danny spoke, the tone of his voice (very tired) sounded like a sweet harmony in Jason's ears. "Oh! You're interested in Nightech? No one else seems to be interested in my stuff yet. I can tell you all about this company and how it works? I put in a lot of work and love into these little guys and I'm sure you would love them too!"
Blah blah blah. Proper name. Place name. Backstory stuff.
Nothing of what Danny is saying is registering in Jason's brain right now. Maybe some. ("I... Love... You...")
"I love you too!!" Jason blurted out.
Danny blinked before widening his eyes. "Wh-What...?" There was that look of concern again but now there's another look. Recognition...
Whatever. None of that right now. This is embarrassing!
"I-I said I love your company. Uh. Do you have a business card? I can let Bruce Wayne know about this."
Wordlessly, Danny gave an information card to Jason before that poor brick of a man just ran out of there, not once even looking back. Honestly, from the way it's playing out in Jason's head right now, he feels like a princess running away from her prince at the stroke of midnight. The earpiece crackled before a voice started to speak.
"Jason? What the hell was that?" Bruce's voice questioned.
It was only when Jason left the gymnasium that he answered, "Me digging my own grave for the second time, old man. Let me go die in peace."
"No, no," Dick's voice chimed in, "Only after we replay that very short conversation about 50,000 times. Thank you very much."
Jason only groaned in response.
Danny, back in the gymnasium, only stared at the door that Jason left from in horror. The only way for people to react that way to him like that is for them to be dead or liminal. Now he has to figure out a way to tell Bruce Wayne that this person that he seems to know is a little bit dead!
This actually is a part of whatever the fuck I'm writing. I'm still thinking of a fic name. But all of the random posts go together in some way.
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Text
P*rn ☆  Chapter 8, A moment of bliss
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Masterlist Word count: 3.5 k Sylus x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.
Author's note: Hi everyone. Enjoy Sylus being a switch/bottom for this one. He won't be for every chapter, but he's desperate and you've been waiting for this sooooo... I do want to remind everyone that this is my first time writing a smutty story. I hope it makes sense. <3
Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, alcohol, mentions of domestic abuse, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.
Mature content under the cut.
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 
'And then he slept over,' you tell Zayne over the phone and quickly add, 'we just cuddled. It was nice.' He doesn't need to say anything for you to know he disapproves. Just wait, he'll tell you that you shouldn't invite men you don't know over to your apartment. Especially not types like Sylus. 
'That's nice. He deserves something good in his life.' "What?!" 'Are you still there?' You probably stayed silent with your jaw on the floor a little too long. Maybe you shouldn't be too surprised. When you showed Zayne a picture of Sylus he looked physically pained, but not in a fearful way. It was empathetic. 
'Yes, yes, I'm still here, sorry. I expected you to lecture me on inviting strange men into my apartment,' you admit. 
'I would, but I know this man. I think he's a good one,' Zayne admits, 'I'm glad you ran into him. Seems the type for you.' Fair enough. Zayne has listened to you whine about men often enough to be glad you're finally actually like one. There's a knock at your door and a rush of nerves goes through your system. 
'Oh, that must be him,' you tell Zayne, 'I'll call you later, okay? We still need to set a date for our annual trip.' 
'Sure. I'll talk to you later.' His voice sounds amused, almost like he's smiling through the phone. You feel a little flustered. He probably picked up on your tone change when you heard the knocks on the door. 
'Bye.' You put your phone in your pocket and walk towards the door, stopping in front of the hallway mirror to check yourself one last time. Outfit, comfy but cute. Hair, eh, good enough. Makeup, minimal but nice. You pull the door open to reveal Sylus in a barely buttoned black blouse and slacks. Now you feel awfully underdressed in your jeans. Are you sure you agreed on dinner and a movie at his place? This looks like he's taking you to a 3-star dining and rented the whole cinema. 
But, you should have known he was going to be dressed like that. After all, it was the same outfit he wore in his newest video. The one he posted today, earlier than he usually does. In a way, you feel like he did it to tease you. Especially since it wasn't all that erotic. It was just him sitting back against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hand, reading the most utterly horny smutty chapter you've ever heard in your damn life. It nearly made you fall off your chair running to your room to masturbate, but you decided against it. The night's still young after all. 
The chapter stuck with you though. Because it wasn't all that horny because of the actual sex happening, but more because of the love between the characters. To be desired so carnally, to be loved so openly, is a fucking turn on. 
'You look beautiful,' he notes, taking all of your thoughts away with one look. The way his eyes rake over you, you feel like you're a marble statue in a museum. Loved, admired, valued, but most of all, beautiful. A blush spreads on your cheeks. 
'Thank you. You look nice too.' 
'Just nice?' 
'Stunning.' The nerves don't calm down and you're not sure why. You've already had him in your bed, you kissed him, cuddled him, let him... Why are you blushing at the thought of it now? Is it because this is a proper date? It's not even that serious. It's just dinner and a movie at his place. 
'Ready?' He offers you his arm. You nod and place your hand on his forearm. It's awfully proper, but it does feel very nice to be treated so respectfully. 
'I have to say, I was expecting a kiss,' you admit. He grins and leans down to press a soft kiss on your lips. Nothing special, just a gentle greeting from a lover. 
A lover? No, more than that. It feels like home. Like you've been kissing his lips for years, but the spark is still there. Like this is how it's meant to be. Like he is completely and utterly in love with you, and you feel the same. 
Shit, you're in love. 
Sylus leads you into his apartment. The one time you were in there, you didn't really take in his decor. It's very much him. The whole place is made up of black, white, some dark wood tones, yet it still feels warm. It might be because he has taken a page out of your book with all the candles he's lit around the apartment. The dining table is set beautifully. There's red wine on the table already, along with a beautiful bouquet of deep red roses that look almost velvety. There's some music playing that feels slightly suggestive but not enough to comment on. 
'Wow, you really went all you,' you note. You feel his arm slip from your grasp and around your waist to pull you closer against him. He looks down at you with the lightest flicker of a big smile. 
'For you, I'd rearrange the stars if you asked me to. Now go sit down. Food will be ready in a bit.' 
Sylus stands behind the stove while you take a seat at the table. Of course, you take the seat across from the kitchen so you can watch him work. The way he slightly is swaying and softly humming along with the music is truly a vision to behold. A domestic vision. A vision of a future you'd like to live. 
He looks over his shoulder, seeing you leaning on your palm, elbow on the table, staring at him. You feel your cheeks heat up again but no urge to look away. Instead, you smile at him and he smiles back. He picks up the pan and walks over to the table, setting it down in the middle between the two plates.  
'Pasta alla Norma. Say when,' he says as he starts dishing out the food on your plate. You nod your head to him after a bit, having a very generous portion of pasta on your plate. He does the same for himself and grabs the wine to uncork it. All of it goes so smooth, so fluent, like every motion of his is perfected. 
And so is the food. It's not that special of a pasta dish but it's made so damn well. 'Is there anything you can't do,' you joke, 'I might just have to marry you right here and now.' His lips quirk into a smile. 
'Are you sure, sweetie? We barely know each other,' he teases back, 'what if I turn out to be a serial killer?' 
'Then I'd die a happy death.' Even though you are joking, somewhere in the back of your mind you know that it's true. You've never had a connection to anyone before like you have with him. It's new and exciting, but most of all it feels right. 
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 
The dinner is mostly uneventful, except that Sylus got some sauce on his clothes. He claimed it was because he was admiring you, but you saw him struggle to get the bite on his fork properly. However, this one time you decided not to tease him because you do want to cuddle up to him during the movie. 
At least, that was the plan. Pure innocent cuddling.  
Seems Sylus has different plans. You're sitting leaned against him, knees pulled up onto his lap, his arm around you, but for about ten odd minutes now his free hand has been tracing figured on your thigh. Each passing moment he seems to get a little bit closer to your inner thigh. 
The teasing gets you hot and bothered, which only makes Sylus smirk. You don't have to look up at him to know. He moves his other hand from your shoulder to your waist, his thumb gently rubbing your skin so that your shirt starts riding up until you feel his touch on your skin. 
That's when he shoves his other hand between your thighs, so close to your core, pulling a gasp from your lips. As you smack your hand in front of your mouth and look up, you can already feel Sylus’ laugh rumbling through his chest. You won't stand for that shit. 
With one swift movement, you sit yourself on his lap. Hands gently draped over his shoulders; hips so close to his but not quite close enough. He hooks his hands under your thighs and pulls you right on top of his bulge. The friction makes you gasp, but you try to keep a straight face. 
'We're not watching the movie, are we,' he asks suggestively. You move your hands to the buttons of his shirt and start undoing them slowly, one by one. In response, his hands start roaming over your hips, your thighs, they grace your ass and lower back. You feel yourself start to grind against him ever so slightly. It's almost involuntarily and gets more intense when you see how much Sylus is blushing while trying to keep a straight face. 
'Don't know why you're asking me. You're the one who started it.' Your hands get to the bottom button that you can still see. Instead of undoing it, you splay your hands out over his stomach, exploring all the skin you've freed as you rake your nails over the lean muscles on his stomach. 
'Mmm, I know sweetie, but consent is sexy,' he groans, moving his head towards your shoulder, he presses a kiss under your ear, 'do I have your consent?' 
'You do,' you say breathlessly, moving your hands behind his neck, entangling your fingers in his hair as you grind on him a little harder. He gently bites the spot he just kissed as a reply and grips your hips roughly, guiding you over him while he bucks up at you. His breathing becomes labored as you two dry fuck like a bunch of horny teenagers. 
He moves his head to kiss your lips. It's all tongue and teeth, desperately chasing a high. Somewhere in your mind you had expected Sylus to be cool, calm, collected when it comes to sex, but seeing him this excited because of you gives you confidence the likes of which you have never experienced. 
Suddenly, he drops his head back to your shoulder and bites down as his movements become less rhythmic. He stops moving all together and looks up at you with big eyes, staring up at you like you're made of pure stardust. 
'Did you just-' 
'Yes.' 
'Because-' 
'Because an angel was riding me.' A grin spreads across your face. He came in his pants like a fucking teenager because of you. That's so fucking hot. If he starts praising you any more you might just become a nightmare to deal with. 
'Wanna do it again without clothes?' 
'More than you could ever imagine.' He grabs your ass and stands up with you in his arms. A yelp slips from your lips as you quickly grab his shoulders. There's that smirk again. Shit, this could be the switch Olympics at this point, that way that you keep flipping. 
Being in Sylus’ bedroom is slightly strange. You've seen it from all angels before, even though you've never been there before. He lays you down on his bed and you see yourself looking back on the ceiling. For a second, your mind is completely lost until you realize that there's mirrors on his ceiling. Strangely, that doesn't surprise you in the slightest. 
Then, you see Sylus taking off his shirt. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him as he undoes the button on his jeans. A devious idea pops into your head and you grab his hand to stop him.  
He watches you intensively as you switch places with him so he is seated at the edge of the bed. His eagerness to touch you has a hold on him but he's trying so hard to let you do whatever. You take his hands and guide them to the hem of your shirt. Then, you slide them up. He quickly catches on and helps you take your shirt off, revealing a beautiful black lace bra. 
'Shit,' he cusses under his breath, tossing your shirt somewhere in the corner. His hands move to your jeans and undo the button and zipper. One peek at your matching undies has him groaning. He helps you step out of your jeans and grabs your hips gently, pulling you towards him. You put your hands on either sides of his face. His eyes are on yours, but they keep flickering down to your lips while his thumbs gently rub your hips. 'All this for me?' 
'All for you.' Your voice comes out sultry, seductive. Nothing you've ever sounded like before. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against him, and kisses you slowly. 
'You look beautiful,' he mumbles against your lips, drunk off your body and the lingering thought of being inside it. He finally peels himself off your body and switches sides with you again. 'Lay down. I'll be right back.' 
'Don't leave me,' you whine as you grab his hand. He stops for a second, physically restraining himself. 
'Condom,' he says and lets go of your hand, disappearing into the bathroom. You decide to sit on your knees in the middle of the bed, eagerly awaiting his return while you soak through your panties. It takes him less than a minute to come back, and when he does his jeans are already off. You eye his bulge with your mouth slightly agape. Sure, you had seen it before, but everything looks smaller on a phone screen. He catches the worry in your eyes as he puts one knee on the bed to be closer to you. 'We don't have to-' 
'Shut up,' you quip, 'I'll be fine. Just go slow.' There's that grin again. With one hand, he reaches behind you and unhooks your bra with ease, with the other he hands you the condom, then he guides you onto your back. You try to take off your bra as you lay, but he grabs your hand and guides it to his hair. For a second, you don't understand but then he dips his head down and starts kissing your chest, slowly making his way over your clothed nipple and kissing it, leaving a wet spot on the lace. With his other hand he pushes the straps off your shoulders.  
Within seconds you are reduces to a whimpering, moaning mess. Your legs spread to make room for him and he gratefully takes his place between them. Sylus finally grabs the bra and removes it, joining it with your shirt and pants on the floor. His hand returns to your breast quickly, his hand gently massaging it while his lips make their way down lower. 
Slowly but surely, he reaches your panties and places lingering kisses just above them. Your hips buck up towards him and you hear the rumble of his rich chuckle. 'Sweetie, you know what you do to me. I fear I might not survive if I spend all my time between your legs.' 
'And I fear I might not survive if you don't fuck me right now,' you groan, giving a firm thug on his hair. You hear him gasp and it goes straight to your pussy. You cuss under your breath as you look down at the smug smile he wears. His fingers hook under your panties and pull them off. They join your other clothing on the floor. 
'You're soaked,' he notes, satisfied. 
'And you're not inside me yet.' Another rumbling laugh as he reaches for his own boxers and pulls them off in a swift motion. Shit, he's big and... are those- 
'They'll feel good. Trust me,' he promises as he watches you look at the two piercings making up his frenum ladder. You reach out to touch it and he lets you. He shivers under your touch as you run your hand over the metal beats on the underside of his dick. 
'One of these days I'm going to make you fuck me raw,' you say, not really realizing what you're saying as you're completely enamored with his dick and piercings. 
'You can't say stuff like that. I'm trying to go slow,' he almost gasps for air with every word and snatches the condom from your hand to quickly roll it on. You watch him lean over you, one of his hands firmly planted next to your head, the other guiding his cock towards your entrance. 
'Fuck slow.' You wrap your legs around him, pulling him towards you. He slips inside easily but goddamn it's a fucking stretch to say the very least. All you can hear is a mixed chorus of groans and gasps. He doesn't move his hips as his eyes study your face, fearing the discomfort he sees might be too much for you. However, you could care less. You feel so incredibly full and ecstatic to be spending the night with him that you might just burst right now. You reach out for him, grabbing his shoulders to pull him down for a kiss. 
'Are you alright,' he asks, holding off the kiss until he has your ok, 'I'm all the way in.' 
'I'm fine. Just kiss me and please move. I need it so fucking bad,' you beg. He does as you say, crashing his lips on yours as he sets a painfully slow tempo to get you used to him. You feel like you're going to snap if he keeps this up. 'Please move faster.' Your words sound more like a moan. 
'Are you sure, sweetie? You seem to be enjoying it just fine.' He looks down at you with pure amusement. Seems he's in a mood. You quickly shove his arm and manage to turn him on his back, not that he puts up much of a fight. 
'I thought you wanted me on top,' you tease back, sheeting yourself on his dick in one motion before he can even respond. Sylus lets out a low groan, throwing his head back and clawing at your hips for something to hold on to. 'Are you going to be a good boy for me and let me ride you?' 
'What happens if I say no.' 
'You'll have to find out.' He nods in response and makes himself comfortable on the pillows. You take that as your go ahead and set an absolutely feral pace. He was right about those piercings. They feel amazing.  
The horniest gasp you've ever heard slips from Sylus’ lips as he turns bright red in the face. His hands move down to your thighs, nails digging into your skin. You'll certainly have bruises tomorrow. 
'Does that feel good,' you ask him as you lean down a little, planting your hands on his chest, nails raking over his pecs. 
'Yes,' he moans, looking absolutely beautifully drunk on you. You feel your high approaching, as does he from what you can tell. He's so close to unraveling and it's beautiful. You wish you could capture this moment, keep this feeling bottled up on your nightstand.  
His hands move back to your hips as he suddenly plants his heels against the mattress and starts trusting up into you, hitting new highs deep inside of you. Highs that no one has ever hit before. Highs that you want him to hit each and every day. He's addicting. Your whole body is tingling as you lean closer towards him, trying to keep up with his pace while you kiss him. He seems too focused to kiss you properly. It's a mess of spit, biting, teeth clanking, and it's so fucking hot. You lick down his neck as you feel your high approaching so fucking fast. 
And there it goes. You hear an animalistic groan next to you, feel it rumble through his chest as his motions become sloppier. Your body topples over the edge and in a moment of absolute bliss, to suppress the absolutely vile sounds you make, you bite down on his shoulder. Hard. Sylus moans at the pain, grabbing your ass to push your body down against him, holding you in place speared on his cock. 
Waves of pleasure shake through your body as Sylus presses sweet kisses on top of your head. His hips move ever so slightly, helping you ride it out. Your eyelids start feeling heavy, your body is aching, your pussy is clenching up. 
'Are you alright?' Sylus voice is different now. It sounds almost worried. You release his shoulder from your bite and prop yourself up on his chest. 
'Peachy,' you reply with a hazy smile, 'wanna take a nap and do it again in a few hours?' 
There goes that rumbling laugh of his again. His hands start rubbing your back as he leans up to peck your lips. It's such an innocent gesture if you don't think about the fact that his dick is still inside you, twitching with every single tiny movement you make. 'As much as I would like that. Let's give it a few more hours and do it again in the morning. Deal?' 
'Only if we take a shower together.' 
'I'll do you one better. I have a tub.' 
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flemingsfreckles · 2 days ago
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Surprise Visitor (18+)
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Synopsis: based on this request, You and jessie reunite at the Chelsea/Arsenal game in Washington DC and you finally get to act on feelings that were interrupted by her transfer.
Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral sex (r receiving and giving), fingering (r giving), making out, little bit of dry humping, language
WC: 5.7k
A/N: this is it (at least for now) I explain more in this post as to why I’m taking a step back from writing, it’s maybe not permanent and I’ll definitely still be around to read other work, make posts about transfers, all that stuff, but just taking a step back from writing for now. Love all of ya, thank you :)
“I have a surprise.” Niamh grabs your hand pulling you behind her.
“Hang on, let me get my damn shoes on.” You complained as the defender continued to drag you down the hallway, hobbling behind her you tried to get your heel into your shoe.
“Ta-da!” You hear Niamh say and you look up from your shoes where she stood arms out.
“Oh my god.” You feel silly as your jaw drops, clasping your hand over it in an attempt to hide it. “Jessie.”
“Hi.” The Canadian’s smile is soft. You can’t hold back anymore, rushing with arms open to Jessie, nearly slamming your body into her when you came into contact. Her arms around you wasn’t something you had felt since you dropped her at the airport, both of you in tears as she moved to Portland.
It’s like climbing into bed after a long day, stepping into a hot shower after being out in the cold, the first taste of a home cooked meal after being away for months, being back in Jessie’s arms is immediately relaxing.
“Sorry, I’ve just really missed you.” You finally speak up, shifting away slightly, both of you releasing each other.
“I’ve missed you so much.” Jessie affirms your own feelings.
Shaking your head in astonishment you still can’t believe the woman was standing in front of you. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“I told Niamh, I wanted to surprise you.” You get lost in her smile, you had always gotten lost in her smile. She flashes a glance to Niamh who takes the hint and quickly excuses herself back to the locker room.
You wait for her to walk away, giving you the chance to fully look at Jessie. Scanning her head to toe, her blue and green Nike shorts, her grey shirt, the way her hair was down but neatly contained by the hat on her head. Her freckles are more prominent than the last time you saw her, the summer sun doing her well.
“You look good Jess.” You eye her up, her simple outfit allows you to fully appreciate her, her tan skin, her brown eyes, the way her hair was neatly placed. “Like, really good.”
You notice how she shys slightly at the compliment. “Thanks, the move has been good for me, I really like it in Portland.”
“Yeah it seems like your type out there.”
“What does that mean?” Jessie gently shoves your shoulder.
You shrug,worried you’ve offended the girl. “Biking, sustainability, knitting, the city gives off those vibes.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
There’s a small beat of quiet and you say what you’ve been thinking since you first saw the woman. “I do miss you though, everyday.”
“I know, I miss you too. I can’t believe you got here without me knowing.”
“Niamh helped.”
“Probably because she knew how I feel, felt, how I felt.” You admit.
“Huh?”
“How I felt about you, I told her.” you didn’t have to explicitly say anything for Jessie to immediately know what you were referring to.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, well not all of it. It’s just, I had a really, really hard time when you left. I couldn’t sleep, I didn’t take care of myself super well, and Niamh noticed, she was there for me. One night she came over to help me get my place back in order and I embarrassingly broke down and let it spill about my feelings.”
Jessie nods slowly, taking in what you had just told her.
“I didn’t tell her we kissed and I didn’t say anything about how you feel, how you felt.” You quickly correct yourself, realizing it would be naive to think she still had those feelings.
“How I feel.” Jessie says, nodding at you with a smile on her face.
“Hey you two, time’s up! You gotta come get ready.” Niamh’s voice, while usually a warm welcome in your life, was something you wish didn’t exist in the moment.
You look at Niamh before back at Jessie, you could feel the sadness start to bubble in your chest, you didn’t want to say goodbye again. You couldn’t.
“Go.” Jessie lightly pushed your shoulder. “I’ll be around after the game, maybe we can grab dinner? Niamh said you’d be free tonight. Or I’m around tomorrow.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Good luck, go kill it.”
As you took the pitch, all you wanted was to be off of it. You wanted to be back in Jessie’s presence, listening to her voice, watching her speak, you wanted to be with her. But instead you had 90 minutes between you and talking to her again.
You couldn’t help but find yourself scanning the crowd, looking for her. It took you until the 26th minute to find her. You’d run over to take a corner, bending down to pick up the ball, spinning it in your hands, and when you looked up, there she was. The focused look on her face, as if she was the one on the pitch, quickly turned into a smile when the two of you made eye contact.
You let out a sigh of relief hearing the final whistle. Chelsea had scraped by with a victory and now the only thing you had to think about was the freckled covered Canadian that stood patiently across the field talking with the fellow Canadians. You let her talk not wanting to interrupt her reunion with her other friends as well.
When she finally has a moment to herself you make your way over to her. “Hi.”
“Hi. Congrats, you played well.”
You shrug, she was just being nice, you knew it, you’d been admittedly distracted. “It wasn’t my best.”
“Well, it was still good soccer.” Her hand finds its way to your shoulders. “Don't be so hard on yourself.” You give her a sarcastic smile, Jessie always got on you when you’d tear yourself apart after a bad game or practice. She always knew how to calm you down, to remind you bad days happen, you’d missed her presence in your life greatly the past few days.
“That dinner invite still stand? I’d love to spend more time with you.” It may have sounded needy coming from your mouth but it was the truth, you wanted more time with her, that’s all you had wanted since she left, more time.
“Of course!”
“Okay, let me get showered and changed, I’ll meet you after?”
“Yeah.” Jessie nods and you head back to the locker room making sure to sign a few more jerseys and signs on your way. It was maybe the fastest you’d ever showered and changed, throwing on sweats and a shirt before throwing your gear haphazardly into your bag and heading out to find Jessie. The fatigue of the week finally begins to set in as you walk out of the stadium. You find her standing against a wall looking around. Her eyes catch yours as you let a yawn out.
“Hey.” You say mid-yawn, waving at her.
She smiles at you. “You look exhausted, I know I said it before but you played very well.” Extending her hand she makes a grabbing motion at you, “Give me your bag.”
“Yeah, exhausted is one way to put it, it’s a mix of traveling, London to New York to DC and the jet lag is finally catching up to me.” You pass the bag to her, she slings it over her shoulder.
“Want to just grab a pizza instead, come back to mine? We can just relax?”
You let out a small sigh of relief, while you would’ve done it for her, you didn’t feel like dressing up and going out. “That sounds perfect.”
That’s how the two of you ended up sitting on the couch Of Jessie’s hotel room, feet on the table, the box of pizza balancing on each of your thighs between you. Conversation has been flowing easily, a mix of old inside jokes, updates on your life, all coming up.
“So, you been seeing anyone in Portland?” Jessie had yet to mention dating, the topic simply avoided in conversation, but the question had been sitting in the back of your head since you saw her again, so you finally asked.
She gives you a quick smile, “Just jumping right to it then.” Looking down at the box and reaching for another slice she answers. “But no, I’m still working through some stuff, moving, captain, all that has just been a lot. What about you?”
“Nah, still getting over someone I never got to have.” You say nonchalantly, hoping she’ll pry.
Knowing her well, she does. “Oh really?
“Yeah, she uh, she was really cool, little nerdy, and pretty too, but then she moved for work and we never got to try, but I think we were pretty close to getting into something the week she left, we kissed for the first time in a hotel room and then she panicked and immediately told me she was moving.” You can’t help but contain the smirk that grows on your face as you watch Jessie realize what you were talking about.
“Oh you’re talking about me.”
“I am.” You nod, taking a bite of your pizza.
“I was stupid to wait around so long. I just wasn’t sure how you felt and I didn’t want to make things weird, and then moving to Portland, it was the easy way out, if things had gotten weird. I should’ve kissed you back when we won the league your first season.”
“I mean at least you did it eventually.”
Jessie hums in acknowledgment and you think back to when you first kissed her.
The two of you had been sitting on her hotel bed while Niamh was showering. You had been play fighting, you’re not even sure over what anymore. Gentle shoves became firm ones before you were tackling each other, and before you knew it you found yourself above her, your lips awfully close to hers.
It wasn’t the first time you’d been in that position with Jessie. Mistimed tackles on the pitch, other play fights, bus rides where you’d fall asleep on each other’s shoulders, your face and hers had been close before. You had always backed out, never giving in to your desire to kiss her.
But now, on the bed, on top of her, you decided against your better judgement and let your eyes wander to her lips, then back up, indicating what you wanted. When you saw Jessie just barely nod and move her head so her lips were just near yours, you leaned in connecting your lips. It had been a hard first kiss, but it confirmed all your feelings you had been harboring.
When you had pulled away you had expected Jessie to question why you’d done it, to yell at you, to tell you to leave. “I’m leaving Chelsea.” Were instead the words that came out of her mouth.
“What?” You were stunned, by the kiss and by her words equally.
“I, I got an offer, Portland, with Janine and Sinc, and I haven’t signed it, but I’m going to, the staff here already know. I’ll be leaving Sunday.”
You had been so sudden. The kiss, the hope of something only to be crushed by the news of her leaving. You felt as you had gone through the stages of grief trying to process Jessie’s news. You didn’t believe it at first, you knew deep down it was true, she’d be leaving you. You were mad, angry at her, not necessarily for leaving, but for not telling you sooner. You were upset, sad, spent the few nights left crying in your bed. And then you accepted it. You couldn’t do anything, she was leaving, she needed to. So you did the only thing you could think of and offered to drive her to the airport for her flight away from you.
There's silence between you and you’re not sure if she’s also replaying the kiss in her head too, or telling you the news, or the feeling of her walking through the airport doors away from you as you sat in your car fighting through tears to drive home.
“You’re cold.” Jessie says after you have a quick shiver as the air conditioner in her room kicked on.
“I’m good Jess.” Before you can try to convince her you were fine, she’s off the couch and rummaging in her bag.
You roll your eyes at her eagerness as she frantically digs. “Here.” A wave of red comes at you as she tosses a hoodie in your direction.
You flip it on your hands to see the Canada Soccer logo staring back at you. “I’m not wearing that!” You toss it back at her.
“Oh come on, it’s just a sweatshirt.”Jessie rolls her eyes at you as she sits back down, passing the fabric back into your lap.
“It’s a Canada sweatshirt.” You pass it back to her, holding it firmly into her lap, jokingly disturbed look on your face.
Jessie gasps pretending to be overly offended. “Don’t say that like it’s disgusting. Just put it on.”
“No!” You squeal as Jessie grabs your wrist, trying to put the sweatshirt over your arm. You manage to twist from her grip and dart across the room. She follows, chasing you. It’s no surprise when she catches you, you were faster in a sprint but she was always more agile.
Her hands grab around your waist pulling you in hard so your back is against her chest. You stop resisting for a moment, and relax into her, you can feel her heavy breathing behind you, the rise and fall of her chest. Just when she begins to loosen her grip on you, you wiggle free, managing to make it a few feet before she has you cornered in the entryway of the room.
Jokingly, you put your hands up by your head in surrender. Jessie is still just a few feet in front of you, sweatshirt in hand. There’s a tension, you can feel it, from the way you’re both panting, the intensity of her eyes on yours, the way she bites her bottom lip as she looks at you. It’s as if time freezes, for just a moment, the two of you on the edge of changing everything.
And then Jessie moves.
It’s swift, agile, just as she had moved around the room before, only this time it’s toward you. Two steps in and the hoodie is dropped to the floor, Jessie’s hands ahead reach for yours holding them out at the side of your head and now against the hotel door. Her chest is pressed against yours followed quickly by her lips pressed to your lips.
“Is this okay?” Jessie pulls back enough to talk, both of you breathing heavily, her hands still holding yours firmly to the wall.
Not sure how to even respond, you nod, mouth open as you stare at Jessie’s eyes that are intensely watching you. “Kiss me again.”
She does, releasing your hands as she occupies her left hand on your hip and her right hand on your cheek, pulling your body into her. Making out with Jessie was everything you’d imagined it could be. The perfect mix of soft, gentle touches as her fingers grazed your cheek, your neck, your hips, your stomach, she mixed it well with rough, bites to your lips, teeth grazing on ear and neck.
When she pulled her lips back from yours, her forehead resting on yours, her eyes stayed closed for a moment before slowly opening, meeting yours. “Just fuck me already Jessie.”
A small smirk comes across her lips. “Of course.” She kissed you hard again, her hands pushing you hard against the wall of her hotel room. Your fingers ran themselves through her hair, pulling slightly and keeping her close to you. A whine left your lips as she pulled back only to be quickly replaced with a deep moan as her lips found their way to your neck.
Starting with a hot open mouth kiss to the side you could feel your knees growing weak as she moved down before stalling just above your collarbone. Jessie attached her lips again, this time sucking.
You shouldn’t let her, you know that, you were an adult and a hickey, where people would see, wasn’t a good idea. Your teammates would see, they’d know something happened but the feeling of Jessie’s lips hot on you convinced you not to pull her away and you happily let her mark you.
She releases your neck a moment later, her hands grazing under your shirt, fingers cool on your abdomen. Growing impatient, you push her fingers off before grabbing the bottom of your shirt and lifting it over your head. You toss the shirt at Jessie, slinging it over her shoulder as her eyes remain glued to your bra. “You were taking too long.” You tease her, her eyes flickering up to yours before she returns back to your chest.
“Fuck we should’ve done this before you left, you’re so pretty.” She lowers her face for her lips to meet the top of your chest. Taking advantage by her distraction, you take the change to push Jessie, moving off the door before pushing her against the wall near the entry. Your hand grabs under her chin, lifting her head away from your breast so that you could kiss her again. The kiss is short before you’re breaking away, completely pulling away from contact with Jessie and walking further into her room, toward the bed. As you do so your fingers slip under the band of your bra and you’re quickly dropping it on the floor as you walk.
You lay back on her bed, letting your head hit the pillow. Jessie is quick to follow you into the room, kneeling at the end of the bed while you get comfortable. Once you stop adjusting, Jessie hovers over you, her eyes admiring your now naked chest. Your hands grab for the bottom of her shirt and she quickly helps, grabbing the bottom and pulling it over her head leaving her in a simple sports bra before returning her attention to you.
“Hmmm, still cold?” Jessie says, running her fingers down the valley of your breast, satisfied with the way your skin reacted to her touch and your nipples perked at the chill of the room and the desire to be touched.
Continuing her actions from before Jessie begins kissing down your chest, stopping this time to run her lips and tongue over your nipples. She alternates, soft sucking, quick twirls of her tongue before she switches sides, evenly distributing her attention. You reward her with breathy sighs and quiet moans, your thighs flexing in anticipation. The heat between your thighs was growing, you wanted and needed Jessie.
Testing the waters you grind your hips upward, immediately feeling Jessie react, her own hips rolling back against yours. She shifts, her lips still scattering, kissing along your chest and abdomen, moving so her thigh is between your legs. She shifts again and you feel the pressure of her thigh against your core. Unable to help yourself you roll your hips, grinding yourself against her in hope of even a tiny bit of relief. She lets you use her leg for a minute before she pulls away, smiling as what would be an otherwise embarrassing whine comes from your lips.
She sits back on her knees, her fingertips moving to your waist, fingers toying with the band of your sweats.
“Take them off.” You ask her, that’s all it takes and Jessie’s hands are grasping the elastic of your sweats and underwear pulling both down your legs in a rather quick motion. “Someone’s eager.” You tease her.
“A bit.” Jessie mumbles, a blush growing across her cheeks.
Jessie adjusts again, one hand holding herself above you, the other between your legs. You watch as her mouth drops in surprise as her fingers make contact with your arousal, her eyes widen for a moment before they roll back, closing.
Her fingers trace through you a few times before settling on your clit, gently circling it, looking between her fingers then up to you, you sigh as Jessie increases her pressure, you grind your hips meeting her movements.
Leaning down to kiss you, you let out a moan against her lips. The mixture of Jessie’s mouth on yours while her fingers touched you where you had longed for her for months was overwhelming. You’d had feelings for the girl above you for months, intense feelings, you’d always wanted her, she was everything. You can feel emotions, overwhelming desire and need and also the feeling of being close to her, to have her skin on hers.
“I want you.” You’re brought out of your own thoughts by Jessie speaking to you.
“You have me Jess.” Affirming her request, you were more than happy for her to make you hers in this moment, willingly offering yourself to her.
She shakes her head slightly. “No, not just right now, like for good, I want you.” The seriousness in her voice draws you from your arousal driven haze. You take a second to look at Jessie. Her eyes filled with lust and also what you had come to know as adoration. She looked a bit overwhelmed as she stared down at you. “I, I don't want anyone else to think they even have a chance.” She shakes her head more aggressively, curls bouncing in front of her own face.
“Jessie.” You pull your hands from her hips and bring them to the sides of her face, forcing her to look at you, preventing her eyes from wandering out of nerves. “No one else has a chance.” You mirror the shake of her head. “You’re what I want.”
“What about the distance?” She whispers eyes breaking their lock with yours, her thumb restlessly grazing your hip. You couldn’t believe this was the conversation you were having while lying naked under her.
“We’ll figure it out, I promise, I just want you Jessie. You’re what I’ve always wanted. It’s always been you.” You begin to feel a bubble of emotion grow in your chest, unable to name it a mix of warmth, familiarity, safety.
You pull her into a kiss, hoping you can portray even a fraction of how you feel about her through your lips.
“You’re all I want, I’m yours if you want me.” You whisper against her lips as you both pull away from the kiss.
“I’m yours.” She replies before your bottom lip is sucked between hers, gently tugging it, instantly bringing back the arousal that had been overshadowed by admiration.
As she releases your bottom lip, Jessie’s lips move, covering inches of skin, your neck, chest, stomach, all while her fingertips slowly drag back down to your legs.
You’re met with her beautiful brown eyes looking up at you when she settles between your legs. Desire and need written all over her face as her eyes silently beg before she uses her words. “Is it okay if I-”
“Please.” More than eager to finally feel her, you spread your legs, inviting Jessie in which she does quickly, moving up so you can suddenly feel her breath on your core. You feel yourself clenching around nothing in anticipation.
You watch intensely as Jessie slowly lowers her mouth, eyes locked firmly with yours, and her tongue makes its first contact with you. Simultaneously a groan comes from both of you, it wasn’t much, a simple pass of her tongue but her first taste of you had Jessie desperate for more. She gave another drag of her tongue from your entrance to your clit. This time the slight flick of her tongue against your nerves has you closing your eyes and tilting your head back into the bed.
“You taste so good.” You hear her whisper. Opening your mouth to respond, you’re interrupted by the moan that escapes instead as Jessie fully commits her mouth to you, tongue and lips covering your pussy, the mixture of suction and pressure from her tongue was blissful.
Still in disbelief that she was here, that you were naked in her bed, that she had said she was yours, you just watch as Jessie works to please you. You relax even more into the bed, letting Jessie take over.
Her eyes closed, eyebrows pinches slightly,
“There.” You breathlessly say, feeling Jessie’s tongue flick against your clit in a way you know will have your legs shaking shortly. “Keep doing that.” It’s no surprise to you when Jessie immediately listens, always one to take coaching well, a quick learner, she doubles down on her movement eyebrows scrunching in focus.
“Fuck Jessie.” Her name comes out in a groan, Jessie responding with a groan of her own at hearing her name come from your lips so sensually. “You’re going to make me cum.”
It’s seconds later that your orgasm washes over you. Jessie’s head is suddenly being squished between your thighs, but that doesn’t stop her. Gently coaxing you through the waves of pleasure Jessie’s tongue and lips continue tracing circles against your clit. When your thighs finally relax, falling apart to the bed, Jessie pulls her mouth off of you, looking up with a grin. “That was so much better than I ever imagined.”
“You’ve imagined it?” A little surprised at the idea of Jessie fantasizing about you, you can’t help but ask.
“Uhhh, I mean,” Jessie’s cheeks tint red as she looks at the painting hung on the wall next to the bed, avoiding eye contact.
“Glad I’m not the only one who did.” You admit, watching as the midfielder visually relaxes. “Come here, let me get that.” You reach a thumb out towards Jessie’s chin, wiping away what remained of your orgasm on her face. Before you can wipe your finger on the bedsheet Jessie grabs your wrist, bringing your thumb to her own mouth. Slowly she runs her tongue across your finger before she briefly sucks off the liquid, softly moaning to herself.
“You taste so good.”
Sitting up you grab Jessie’s face kissing her. Her lips are still just as soft as before only this time you can taste yourself on her as your tongues meet. Leaning forward Jessie is thrown off balance, falling backwards onto her back, you follow laying on top of her. Both of your feet are now at the head of the bed. You kiss her for a few minutes, slowly increasing the intensity, letting your hands roam, pulling at the tied knot on the shorts she was wearing. It takes both hands to finally get the knot undone and your fingers quickly dig into the waistband before you pause to pull away.
As you pull away you watch Jessie starting to nod at you, smile beaming from her face. “Yes, you can take them off.” She says before you even ask. Sitting back you slide the shorts off her legs, taking a moment to admire her in just a bra and panties, everything about her was gorgeous, tastefully toned muscles wrapped in her tanned summer skin. You wanted to touch every inch of her. Instead you pulled away, standing up from the bed.
“Where are you going?” Jessie asks, a confused look on her face.
“Come here.” Kneeling on the floor, your hands reach for Jessie’s thighs as you pull her towards you. She adjusts, and at the same time pulls her bra up and over her head.
“Wouldn’t the bed be more comfortable?”
“Shh, just let me.” You grab under her knees, pulling her even closer to the edge of the bed and closer to you. Your fingers come to the last remaining article of clothing she had on. Pulling them off of her, they join the various other clothing items scattered in her hotel room.
Now bare you grab her legs, putting each one on your shoulder. You can see she’s wet. It takes every bit of restraint and self control to not immediately dive into her. Instead you turn your attention to her thighs, taking your time kissing from her knee to the crease of her leg. The closer you get the more you feel her tense up and when you switch legs, letting your breath run over her core, you notice the way her hips subtly tilt up.
You take a few more minutes kissing along Jessie’s legs, a couple kisses to her hips, along with gentle scratches from your fingers has her impatient, “I didn’t tease you this much.” You finally hear her complain.
Deciding she had suffered enough of your drawn out teasing, you place a hand on each thigh holding her legs open and bring your mouth to where she was dripping for you. Immediately you’re rewarded with the sound of Jessie moaning and her hand on your head holding you tight to her. “Fuck.”
Hearing her make those noises for you, because of you, sends a heat through your stomach. You needed more of her. You lapped at her as if it would be the last chance you ever got to taste her, for all you knew it would be. Determined to commit it all to memory you took in every sound, every whine, groan, breath, every movement she made, how she’d grip your hair tighter when you teased her entrance with your tongue, how her hips rolled slowly in time with your tongue, you wanted to remember it forever.
Abandoning her entrance you move your mouth to focus on her clit, softly sucking while applying firm pressure to her has her breathing harder. Eager to have your hands on her, and to show her why you’d move positions, you bring a hand up between her legs, running your middle and ring finger through her core, pulling them away as they become covered in her slick.
You let your fingertips circle her opening a few times, a flood of cockiness growing in you as you feel her clench around nothing, waiting for your fingers and she whines out, “Please.”
You bite back a laugh at how easily you had her begging before every thought in your mind is erased as you sink a finger into her. Enveloped in her warmth, you can’t think of anything else besides Jessie. Her taste, her noises, how she feels around your finger, it has you wet all over again. You give Jessie a few thrusts before adding your ring finger, her satisfied moans tell you everything you need to know as you continue to slowly but firmly fuck her with your fingers. You curl them inside of her, pulling a whimper of your name.
You wanted to hear that again and again, you never wanted to know what it would be like for someone to moan your name. Only Jessie from now on, only her. The primal instinct to fuck her was only growing inside of you, you began thrusting harder, faster, your tongue working harder, all your efforts being appreciated by Jessie.
The grip of her fingers in your hair was becoming almost painful but Jessie’s words made the sting worth it. “That’s good, that gonna make me cum, fuck.” The breathlessness of her voice, almost hoarse, grew your desire to watch, hear, and feel her cum.
It was minutes later that Jessie’s back arched off the ground, her hips tilting away momentarily before thrusting onto your fingers and mouth. Her head was thrown back but you could see how she harshly bit her bottom lip, doing nothing to silence the noises she made. Just as her thighs closed around your head, you felt the way she was rhythmically clenching around your fingers as you continue to thrust them, helping her through the pleasure.
“Too much.” The hand that had momentarily relaxed in your hair was suddenly pushing you away. Jessie’s legs fall open and when you feel her fully relax you slowly slip your fingers out of her, bringing them to your mouth. Just as you had before you begin placing soft kisses along Jessie’s legs, moving to her abdomen, then her chest, collarbone, up her neck, her cheek and finally placing a kiss on her lips. Her eyes remain closed, as she relaxes on the bed.
“As good as you imagined?” She says, opening one eye to peek at you.
“Way better.” You grin back at her. You climb onto the bed, adjusting the pillows that had been pushed around in your activity. “Come here.” You pat the space next to you and Jessie slowly rolls over and moves to lay next to you. Wrapping your arm around her you pull her in, her head coming to rest on your chest, her arm around your waist.
“So…” You start, your fingers tracing lines and squiggles across the bare skin on Jessie’s back as she laid on your chest. “Did this mean anything?” Jessie lifts her head off your chest, shifting to look at you.
“I mean, it doesn’t mean nothing.”
Tilting her head back down Jessie hide her face as she speaks again. “What does that mean?”
You let out a sigh. You’d just been bare in front of Jessie, maybe now it was time to be naked, to fully tell her. “It means I’ve have feelings, I’ve always had feelings for you, and this made them those feelings much more real, so this didn’t mean nothing to me, this meant a lot to me.”
“Good.” Jessie looks up at you again. “Because this meant a lot to me too. And I don’t know, long distance is a lot, but for you it would be worth every minute.”
“You’d be worth it.” You respond before craning your neck down to kiss her.
The two of you remained in her hotel bed for a bit, relaxing into each other with fleeting touches and soft kisses, until Jessie urges the two of you to get up, claiming you both should pee and wash your hands.
“Not complaining about the Canada logo now, are you?” Jessie smirks at you through the mirror as you wash your face, poking a finger into the sweatshirt of hers you had thrown on.
“Shut up.”
“I mean if you have a problem with it,” she pauses as she comes behind you, fingers playing with the bottom of the fabric. “We can definitely take it off.” Her big brown eyes are practically begging you as she looks up at you.
“Hmm then yes, maybe I don’t want it on anymore.” You pull it off your head as you exit the bathroom. Hearing Jessie quickly follow after you.
“Wait for me!”
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meltedgallium · 3 days ago
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oooooo, I havent done one in a hot minute! lets see...
tagged by: @wanderwithwings
last song: Listened to? Dusk Till Dawn (slowed and reverbed) in my mega playlist. But my true last song would have to go to Dirty imbecile as the last song i had on repeat.
fav color: PURPLE. HIT ME WITH ANY OF IT
last book: uhhhhhhhh..... I think it would be this is how you lose the time war, but my memory's shot on stuff like this so who tf knows. planing on reading six of crows (a gift from a friend) so I'm exited about that.
last movie: The Six Triple Eight, a movie about the battalion of all black women soldiers who distributed mail during WWII, with an amazing story and lovely depiction of history.
last show: Good chunk of Dungeon Meshi. I need to finish it when I get the chance because its SOO GOOD.
sweet/spicy/savory: Ditto on the sweet and savory.
relationship status: Single. sobs. Though I have been piecing through whether or not I'm aro/ace, so if you want to make my life more difficult on that front: this is your sign.
last thing i googled: community chest go directly to bed
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(found on reddit)
current obsession: THE FACT THAT THE DESIGNERS AT MAGIC FAILED SO HARD WITH A SET THAT IS GOING TO GO DIRECTLY INTO THE FOREVER ZONE IN MY BRAIN IM GOING TO-
looking forward to: I've got a meet up with some friends later tonight for improv training, so that'll be fun! and some out of town friends that I haven't seen IRL in like a year will be showing up to see a local play this weekend!! (looking at you pandamugger :heart:)
Tagging:
@pandamugger @lukadjo @greyhound-with-a-mega-wizard-hat @terrencetheshark13 @ar-be @thatonebjp @yetanothergreyjedi
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Ten People I’d Like to Get to Know Better
tagged by: @orphiclovers
last song: It’s all been Christmas retail crap or if you count the radio on the drive home playing Avril Lavigne
fav color: this pale seafoam green for things or white for clothes
last book: Eclipse by Wilder (poetry)
last movie: Deadpool & Wolverine
last show: N/A
sweet/spicy/savory: sweet and savory 
relationship status: 4 people proposed to me this year. 1 meant it fr 🥹 (engaged irl) otherwise I have a harem on AO3 going.
last thing i googled: how big is a wintermelon?
current obsession: cooking and Infinity Nikki
looking forward to: I’m planning a road trip with the girls later this week!!
Tagging: @auuwmk, @ssunfish, @ajhaijma, @stoneclaw, @quiteboared, @kiwiandmint, @dgeneralacc, @rex44201, @readingdreaming4951, @thottykunikida
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shouyuus · 3 days ago
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could i request car mechanic!vi and fem!reader hcs and little moments of their daily life now that they’re officially dating? 🤭🤭 you write vi so wellll nghghhh 😫
sfw fluffy hcs for car mechanic!vi au bulletpoints bc im in that mood today
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breakfast is always a long, drawn out thing -- almost ritualistic, bc "breakfast is the most important meal of the day, sweets! c'mon, you oughtta know that." and you take turns making it, either for each other or for whoever else is in the house that day (sometimes vander, sometimes silco will drop by for coffee, sometimes powder and ekko will stay the night, in which case ekko almost always makes breakfast, bc powder's very particular about her pancakes)
you can't rmbr the last time you sat in a chair proper bc vi's always pulling you into her lap (except at the dinner table, where she tries to show a TAD more decorum, esp if you're having dinner at your place instead of hers, but even then, she'd pull her chair close to yours, just so she can press her leg against yours or reach out to put a palm on your thigh)
on the days that you're not together, you definitely text vi a bit more -- she's got her hands full of repairs, and your biggest worry on the daily is what you wanna make for dinner that day, and if you need to drop by the grocery store before you head over to vi's
the first time you try to teach vi how to use chopsticks, you end up just plopped in her lap, feeding her off your plate bc she claims that "it's easier this way" and that she can "watch your technique better from up close" although it's so stupidly obvious that she's not looking at your hands bc she can't keep her eyes off your lips and how you can't stop giggling when you twist around to feed her
on the lazy summer nights when all the work has been done and all the stuff that can still be done can wait till tomorrow, vi takes you up the hill behind the city, to her favorite little outlook, tucked into the side of a backroad that no one except the true locals know about -- from there, you can see the entire city spread out beneath you, sprawling net, cast in light and shattered stars. "i used to hate this place... just a little, cause i thought i'd never get out of it," she tells you. "and now?" you ask. "now... i kinda love it... it's my home and... well, it gave me you, didn't it?"
vi thanks the heavens that you only live a few streets over, and that it takes her about 5 minutes on her bike to get between your houses (even though, yeah, you do technically live on the rich side of town, just across the train tracks), bc sometimes, 5 minutes is just about as long as she can wait before she starts to feel fidgety about the thought of seeing you again
the nights she spends at yours are always fun -- your bed's more than big enough for the pair of you to sprawl out on; you'd flick through channels on tv till something catches your eye, or carry as many snacks as either of you can up and post up for a movie marathon. it'd always end up with one of you lying against the other, your body curled between her legs or the other way around
sometimes she falls asleep against you, and you'd let the entire movie play before trying to slip out from behind her to turn off the lights. she always wakes up when you move, and she always grumbles and tries to pull you back; you always laugh and promise her that you'll be right back, to which she'd always pout but it morphs into a smile as she watches you patter around the room in a big t-shirt, turning off the lights and clearing the snacks off the bed before climbing back into her arms
she always keeps her hand tucked around your hip whenever the two of you go out anywhere, or she's got her hand pushed into the back pocket of your jeans or shorts or whatever the hell else; she claims its just bc she wants you close; you both know that it's also bc she wants zero questions as to who you belong to when you're walking down the street
when her hair gets long in the back, she lets you braid it and in it up with cute lil clips bc she likes the way it makes you smile
she almost loses it a little when she wakes up one day at yours and finds that you've put out an extra cup for her, and bought her a new toothbrush to use; it's then that she realizes she's already left like a quarter of her wardrobe here and that your parents no longer even look up when she comes downstairs in the morning, bedhead and all, to greet them, and that they've somehow always already made coffee for her, just the way she likes
"hey prett girl, can i ask you something?" "yeah, sure." "what... do you think about moving in together?" "hm? oh --" "not like right this moment or anything but --" "i'd love to. i mean, it does get a little complicated splitting time between my place and yours." "oh... that was -- i thought you'd be a bit more..." vi swallows, trailing off. you cock your head and fix her with a look, "a bit more what? hesitant? i mean... we're basically together all the time now anyway. it'd just make things easier, right? and --" a blush flushes into your cheeks as you look away, clearing your throat, "it'd -- it'd be nice not to have to be so q-quiet, sometimes."
vi nearly blacks out at your words; and yeah, so what if she starts looking at places that exact afternoon?
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ganondoodle · 20 hours ago
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... anyway, last beast ganondorf design poll
i merged both the old and newer design (left in the flowing mane but added the split open back with the spine showing and that mist coming out, plus some fur marking adjustment), so now the only thing to decide is whether the red fur should run along his back or on his belly
(red on back, no magic charge, which is the majority of the time-black braids-, and while charging magic -glowing braids-)
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and reversed version (belly red) the big malice arms color fits the other phases of the battle better here (in his human form he 'rebuilds' his missing arm with malice in phase 2, which is revealed to be 'taken' from his beast form)
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bapeach · 3 days ago
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Accidental love
Another long fic and I'm honestly very proud of it! I don't know anything about torn ACL's or anything so if stuff is wrong, just ignore it. I hope you enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :) Pairing(s): Paige Bueckers x female!reader  Word count: 9.1k+  Warnings: depression, life-changing accident, cursing, happy ending Summary: After a life-changing accident, Y/N finds peace in her new life, but when Paige Bueckers faces her own injury, their worlds collide. ------------
Paige Bueckers
Of course, it was a name you knew. You’re a student at UConn, so if you didn’t know of her, well, you’d be living under a rock. Paige Bueckers is UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making… 
You could go on and on about the things you’ve heard about her. She always seemed to be present in your life in one way or another. A mumble in the hallway as you go to class, an edit on your TikTok fyp, a celebration post on UConn’s Instagram page…
You don’t know the girl personally, having only been in the same room as her a few times when you went and watched some of her games. You’ve heard a lot of good things about her. You respected her grind, the way she gave her all to basketball and was a great team leader. You’ve also heard she’s a sweetheart off the court and always tries to make people comfortable. She’s also really pretty, which you’re sure is a contributing factor to why she’s so loved. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. 
You’d had your own fair share of admirers because of your looks. You’d caught plenty of girls fawning over you as they ogled your muscles, giggling when you sent them a flirty wink. If you were honest, you were quite the player when you first came to university. You’d messed around with a few girls, never really getting into anything too serious. 
You just didn’t have time for relationships. You were too busy studying biomedical engineering while also having a job and hobbies. And boy, did you have hobbies. Ever since you were young, you were a very active kid. Your parents always had to beg you to come inside, only being able to persuade you with promises of weekends at the indoor playground/kid gym.
Growing up, you stayed active. You went for a run every morning and swimming at least once a week. You didn’t join your school’s sports teams because how could you only choose one? You spend every weekend doing a different sport until you run out, only to start over. Basketball, boxing, soccer, baseball, hockey... you did it all. Your all-time favorite, though? Rock climbing.
You think there’s nothing better in this world than rock climbing after a long week. Wind ruffling your hair as the bright sun shines on your back. Climbing as high as you can, your muscles burning as you strain them to their limit, your chest tight as you gasp for breath. But it’s all worth it, because in the end, when you reach the top and have a full view of the horizon? It feels like you’re on top of the world. Like you’re untouchable and all your hopes and dreams are within reach.
The thought of climbing always filled you with warmth and excitement. Even after climbing the same rocks over and over, you still felt in awe every time you made it to the top. Knowing that no matter what, at the end of the day, you could always count on the dusty stones beneath your fingertips always made a smile grow on your face. 
Well. That was before the accident, at least. Now the thought of it makes you feel a dull throb in your chest. 
The last time you went climbing, you’d gone with some fellow enthusiasts. It was a group of strangers you’d met at the indoor climbing hall. Their little club ranged from new climbers to experts, and you’d clicked with them immediately. The guide you went with was a middle-aged man who had over 20 years of experience, so you were excited to maybe learn some new things. He was a really nice guy, happy to see someone your age be so excited about his favorite activity. When you partnered up with him, you didn’t expect anything to go wrong. Daredevils like yourself never really think too much about the consequences of your actions or things that could go wrong, otherwise you’d be too afraid to do half of the things you do. So that day was like no other. At first at least.
When you had reached 3/4ths of the climb, it happened. Even now, 2 years later, you’re not sure what exactly happened. You only know that one moment you were gripping onto the rocky wall and the next you were falling. When you think about it, it all feels like a dream. It didn’t take you long before you hit the ground, but it somehow felt like ages.
You remember how distraught your guide was when you finally woke up in the hospital. You didn’t understand anything he was saying at first. He was crying too hard, stumbling over his words as he kept apologizing. Something about malfunctioning equipment? 
When the doctor walked in, you immediately knew something was very wrong. Your chest filled with an unbearable ache when you saw the sad frown on his face. After that, everything is pretty much a blur. You didn't hear anything after the words “paralyzed” and “never walk again” were spoken. Everything became muffled as your ears started buzzing. You felt your chest tighten, and this time not in a good way. You were drowning on dry land.
The next months were some of the darkest moments of your life. You felt like your world was ending. And it kind of was. Everything you thought you were, gone in a matter of seconds. Bound to a wheelchair for the rest of your life. You shut everyone out at first, but soon realized you couldn’t bear all of this alone. Your family was your greatest support. They were your greatest fans, always celebrating your wins, and now they were here to mourn your greatest losses with you as well. 
You lost quite a lot of friends after the accident. It was hard being friends with your sporty friends when you could only think about how you wished you could join them. Your friendships didn’t all end on a bad note, though. You knew that if anything was wrong, you could still call them, and they’d show up in a heartbeat. 
You also gained a few friendships. Some people you met at therapy, support groups, online forums,... You also found a friend in the guide you were with that day. While you hated him at first, too filled with pain to think clearly, you’d talked to him at a later point. He apologized profusely once more, but you forgave him quickly. It’s not like it was his fault. Besides, it was hard to hate him, the way he looked at you with so much guilt. He had kind but wise eyes, prominent smile lines, and his hair was graying a little, but he was still full of life and filled with passion. You knew this accident would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he didn’t deserve that, so you made sure to stay in touch with him. If only to let him know you were doing well and make sure he was too.
You still often think about the days when you could be wild and free. In the two years since the incident, you’ve changed a lot. You’ve calmed down greatly, becoming a lot more mature and wise. While you used to be the go-to friend for a crazy time, you were now the friend people came to for advice. You missed your younger self, but still felt like she was a part of you. You’d gone through so much, the change was only natural. And honestly? You were proud of the person you’d become. Sure, you weren’t perfect and still had your days when you felt like you couldn’t breathe and like the world was against you. But overall, you were at peace with your life. It’s also not like you’d fully lost your playful self. You still loved teasing your friends, pulling pranks, and causing mischief.
So yeah, while you didn’t know Paige personally, you definitely felt like you knew a lot about her from the media, the people around you, and even some of her friends. You’d met Azzi a year ago when she got injured during a game. She’d been destroyed when she realized she wouldn’t be playing again any time soon. Having to find something new to do, she’d made her way to the library, where she bumped into you. You started talking, and before long you two became pretty good friends. You listened to her situation and told her what you’d been through. 
At first, she’d apologized profusely, feeling bad about how she complained about not being able to play for a few months while you’d never get to do your favorite things ever again. You’d made sure the younger girl knew it was okay, and that you didn’t want her to feel like she couldn’t be upset just because you’d also gone through something. You’d spent hours with the girl talking about the adventures you used to go on and how much your life had changed. You made sure to tell her how happy you were despite everything, letting her know that no matter what, she’d be okay. 
While you don’t talk as much as you used to anymore, now that she’s back on the court, you still text each other every so often, smiling as you pass each other on campus. You didn’t blame her for becoming busy, you were excited to see her play with that bright smile on her face. You made sure to cheer her on and text her congratulations on her wins and “You did well” messages when the team lost. The girl appreciates you more than you know. Without you, she wouldn’t be where she is now. She’d learned so much from you.
Somehow, during your whole friendship, you’d never really met the team. Not that you really felt the need to. She had her friends, and you had yours. There was no need to mix up the groups. That being said, you didn’t really think you’d ever meet Paige or become close with her.
You were curious, though. As you wheel out of the library, you hear Paige’s name all around you. Two girls leaning in close as one gasps her name. A group of guys with their mouths dropped open as a video on their phone says the star athlete’s name. A professor walking past with a frown, mumbling, “... yeah, Paige Bueckers…”. 
When you reach your dorm, you open your laptop and search “Paige Bueckers” on Twitter. You immediately feel a pit in your stomach. The first tweet you see is a video with the caption “I’m gonna cry, I feel so bad for her”. You click the video and see why the basketball player was being talked about everywhere. At first, it looks like a normal clip from their most recent game. You see Nika passing the ball to Aaliyah, who passes it to a sprinting Azzi, who finally passes it off to Paige. You blink, and suddenly the blonde is on the floor, clutching her knee as tears stream down her face. You can see the worry and fear on her teammates’ faces, and the distraught but knowing look on Paige’s. A torn ACL. No doubt about it.
For a moment, your own accident flashes in your mind. The weightlessness as you were falling. Waking up and realizing you can’t move. You shake away the thoughts, blinking the haze from your eyes. You grab your phone to text the girl something, anything to make her feel better, but you pause. Right now, the last thing she’ll care about is a stranger texting her she’ll be okay when they probably don’t have any idea what she’s going through. Your thumb hovers over Azzi’s contact, but you end up closing the app. The brunette is probably too busy to talk, being too worried about her best friend. “I’ll talk to her soon,” you think to yourself before going on about your day.
You were right about talking to her soon. Only a week after the latest UConn tragedy, you see her. You were tucked away in your favorite corner of the library, a worn copy of your favorite book lying in your lap. You were surrounded by colorful pens, post-its, stickers, and tabs as you added new scribbles in the margins of the book (don’t worry, you’d gotten your own copy after the first time you read it).
Finishing a tiny doodle on the inside of the cover, you look up and see the younger girl. Beaming that wide smile of hers that could light up a dark room. The type of smile that makes you return the gesture before you even realize what’s happening. When she reaches your table, she greets you happily before looking back. It’s only then that you realize she’s brought company.
There she is. UConn’s basketball miracle in all her glory. Paige Bueckers. 
You look her up and down. She’s wearing her blue UConn tracksuit, her hair is in a bun, and she’s holding two crutches under her arms. Her usually bright blue eyes have become a darker color as a frown is set on her face. She didn’t want to be there, she wanted to be in her room, wallowing in her bed with a pint of ice cream. She doesn’t understand why Azzi felt the need to drag her out of the comfort of her own dorm to go meet some stranger that would give her the same stupid pitying looks she’d been getting from everyone around her. 
“Hey Ace,” you send her a grin before looking back towards the injured girl. “Hey, I’m Y/N,” you nod at her. She only frowns at you until Azzi turns and sends her a pointed look. “Paige,” the blonde sighs. You hide your amused smile, knowing she’d get even more annoyed if she thought you were making fun of her. 
“I figured it was finally time some of my favorite people met!” the brunette beams. When you catch her eye, you have a silent conversation with her. You knew why she was here with Paige. She was hoping you’d be able to help her best friend the way you’d helped her. You can tell by Azzi’s body language that she’s slightly on edge, not sure how you’d react. You send her a reassuring wink as you start talking, “About time! I’ve heard a lot about you, Paige,” you say gently. The girl only hums in response. 
You see Azzi frown for a second before her signature easy smile makes its way back to her face. “I was thinking we could all go for coffee,” she says, looking at you with hope in her eyes. “Sounds good to me!” you grin as you start packing up your stuff. Once you’re done, you glance over at Paige, who is looking around with a bored expression. You’re not offended at her not wanting to spend time with you. You knew what it was like to feel your world crash, and you’d also tried pushing people away. The blonde maybe didn’t want to be around you right now, but you’d make sure she realized that she’d be okay.
You put your bag on your lap before wheeling your way around the table so you could be right beside the basketball players. You see Paige’s eyes widen as she takes you in, only now having realized you were in a wheelchair. You let her observe you for a moment, seeing her emotions swim in her eyes. You could tell she was shocked and a bit embarrassed, but you also saw her frustrations as she clenched her jaw and started frowning again. “So that’s why Azzi wanted me to meet her. Just so she could tell me that whatever I’m going through is nothing compared to what she has to live with,” Paige thinks as she tries not to roll her eyes. 
You simply send her a smile. You don’t mind the anger that seems to radiate off of the girl. You know she’ll probably say and do stuff she doesn’t mean in rage, and you don’t mind being the person all that fury is aimed at. You know that at the end of the day, she won’t mean any of it, and you’d rather she tries to hurt your feelings than her sunshine best friend.
“Let’s go then, shall we?” you say with a raised brow and a tiny smirk before you start wheeling away. You lead the way through campus to your favorite coffee shop, making small talk with Azzi. You try to include Paige as well, but you don’t talk to her all that much, not wanting to overwhelm her. When you arrive at the shop, the brunette holds the door for you and Paige with a smile, her eyes twinkling. You thank her before following the blonde in. 
“Your usual?” Azzi asks as she walks in behind you. “Yes please, thanks Princess,” you say with a playful wink, a wide grin on your face. The brunette shakes her head in amusement, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. You make your way towards a free table in the back, waving hi to the barista that always calls you his favorite regular. Paige follows not long after, while Azzi waits in line to order the drinks. Once Paige sits down with a huff, slightly out of breath as she rubs the spots where she leaned against the crutches, you don’t say anything at first. The silence isn’t exactly fun, but it’s not a bad silence either.
When your friend makes her way to your table, you smile softly at her as you accept your drink. “Thanks, Ace.” “Of course,” she replies, her voice soft. She looks over at Paige for a moment before clearing her throat. “Listen, P, I know you’re hurting. Not just physically but mentally too. And I know how you feel like it’s the end of the world, but I promise you, it’s not. When I went through my injury and couldn’t play, I spiraled too. But then I met Y/N, and she made me realize that everything would be okay. I know you’re not happy about being here, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not allowed to be sad, but please just… talk to her. Y/N is an amazing friend to have, not just because she knows what it’s like to lose stuff, but just because she listens. She really listens, and she has a way of making you feel a little lighter on days when things seem impossible.” 
You look at her as she’s speaking, your smile soft as your chest feels warm. It was nice to hear her say such sweet things about you and trust that you’ll be able to help someone else she cares so much about. 
Azzi turns to you before continuing. “And Y/N, please don’t think we’re only here because I want you to help P. I’ve always wanted to introduce you two. I feel like you two could be great friends!” You lean over to grab her hand and give it a little squeeze. Of course, to anyone else it might’ve looked weird, the way you and Azzi hadn’t spoken in a while, and she only seemed to come back to you for help. You knew that wasn’t the case, though. The brunette was the definition of kindness. I mean, she has the nickname “The People’s Princess” for a reason. You didn’t feel offended at all, knowing this only proved how much she trusted you and how much you’d helped her in the past.
Paige’s jaw stays clenched a little longer, her brows furrowed. “I don’t need her help. I don’t need anyone’s help,” she thinks angrily to herself. When she looks up at her best friend, however, she falters. She knows Azzi doesn’t have a bad bone in her body. “I guess… if Azzi speaks this highly of her, then… she can’t be that bad.” You see her soften as she gives the brunette a soft nod. She turns to you, sighing softly before giving you a tentative smile. You grin at her as mischief swirls in your eyes. “Yeah, we’re gonna work out just fine,” you think.
As you drink your coffee, you talk about everything that’s been happening in your life lately, asking Azzi for details on what she’s been up to since you last talked. You make sure to ask Paige questions too, getting to know her more as well. You keep the conversation away from basketball or your own accident. There was a time and place for that conversation, and it wasn’t here and now. 
You stay in the coffee shop for hours, just chatting about everything and nothing. You manage to make both girls laugh a lot, one time even making Paige laugh so hard, her coffee comes out of her nose. She’d looked pretty embarrassed, her face turning a bright red, but she couldn’t wipe the smile off of her face. 
You’re in the middle of telling Paige a story about something you and Azzi had done a few months ago when the brunette’s phone went off. You pause your conversation as you look at her with a raised eyebrow. “Oh shoot! I gotta go, uh, do you guys mind if I head out?” she rambles, already getting up. You look at Paige, who’s already looking at you. You grin at each other before turning to Azzi. “Don’t worry, we’ll play nice,” you smirk. 
Once the brunette leaves, you think for a moment Paige will go back to her quiet self, but you’re wrong. “So? What happened next?” she asks, her eyes wide in a childlike wonder. Warmth blossoms in your chest. The people weren’t wrong when they praised the type of person the star athlete is. She was sweet, paid full attention to what you were saying at all times, and she was funny as hell. 
You continue the story, making the blonde chuckle and shake her head in disbelief. “There’s just no way Azzi did that.” You shrug with a smirk, “It’s all true.” She looks at you a little longer, eyes squinted, as she tries to find out if you're lying. When she realizes you’re not, she chuckles again as she leans back. 
You continue to look at her and notice her demeanor change. Her smile slowly leaves her face as her body becomes tense again. Somehow you’d managed to not make her think about basketball or her injury the whole time you were at the coffee shop, but now it seemed to all come back in one big wave. 
She frowns, leaning forward as she hesitantly meets your eye. “So… Are you finally gonna tell me to just suck it up and stop moping about my knee? Because at least there’s a chance I’ll still be able to play?”
You look at her for a moment. “Nope.” You push away from the table as you start rolling your wheelchair to the door. “W-Wait, what?” You hear Paige stutter, her chair screeching from how hard she scoots it away from the table. You grin, hearing the clattering behind you as the blonde struggles to grab her crutches to follow you. You thank the girl holding the door open for you as you roll into the warm afternoon sun. Paige huffs as she finally reaches you, a frown on her face. You can tell she’s not really upset, though, the way her lips are curling into a small smile.
“Come on, I’ll walk you to your dorm… well… wheel you to your dorm…? Wheel to your dorm as you hobble along…?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you rub your chin, trying to find the right wording. You hear Paige snort beside you as she starts moving. “Oh my god, bro, just shut up.” 
You stick your tongue out in response before speeding up a bit to match her pace. You two don’t talk for a moment, enjoying the nice breeze as birds whistle around you. “I had fun with you today, Paige,” you smile up at the girl. She smiles back at you. “I had fun with you too… I’m sorry for how I acted earlier, it’s just… it’s been really hard,” the frown from earlier makes its way back onto her face.
“Don’t worry about it, P,” you say with a smile. The girl returns the gesture, hearing you call her her nickname. “So uhh, you don’t want to tell, y'know, all that stuff about how it’ll all be okay?” She asks hesitantly. “Would you believe me if I did?” You ask without any judgment in your voice. “I’m not sure… probably not,” she says as she looks over sheepishly. “Then there wouldn’t be any point to it, would there?” You tease. 
She looks back ahead of her, but you stare a little longer. “I’ll tell you about my accident some day, but not right now. I don’t wanna tell you and have you just end up feeling bad, y’know? We had a good day, let’s not ruin it with my sob story,” you grin as you send her a wink.
Once you reach the blonde’s dorm, she looks at you with reluctant eyes. She doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. “Give me your number, we’ll text,” you demand, not really giving her a chance to say no, but you both know she wouldn’t. You see her relax a little as she hands you her phone. Once you’ve put your number in and added a cheeky contact name, you give her back her phone. 
“Text me, alright? I know where you live now, so if you don’t, I’ll come find you,” you say with a teasing wink. “Yes, ma’am,” she grins. You two say your goodbyes before you make your way to your own dorm. You haven’t even made it out of the basketball player’s hallway before you hear your phone ding. Your stomach flutters and your chest feels warm. You were excited about your new friendship and were looking forward to getting to know the legendary player on a deeper level. 
Over the following weeks, you two continue to text every day, hanging out in the coffee shop a few more times too. Sometimes Azzi joins you, but more often than not, it’s just the two of you. You learn more about Paige’s family and friends and how life was living in Minnesota while she also gets to know you more. 
You can’t say every day you spend with the blonde is an amazing day. The girl’s injury was still fresh, so she was often grumpy and sad and found it hard to enjoy having to sit still in some coffee shop or library when she’d rather be out there playing ball. You never got upset with her though, you’d been there before, and you knew she just needed some silent support. 
One afternoon, your phone rings, bringing a smile to your face. You know who’s calling before you even look. “Hey, P,” you say, your grin clear in your voice. “Hey Y/N/N, whatcha up to?” she mumbles. “Just hanging out in my dorm, watching a show. What ‘bout you?” you reply, leaning back on your bed as you stare at the ceiling. “M’bored, you should come over… Some of the girls are coming over later… You should meet them,” she says. When you close your eyes, you can see her sitting in her room, one hand holding her phone as the other rubs her neck shyly.
“Sounds nice,” you murmur. You hear a soft sigh of relief on the other end. “Yeah?” Paige’s voice crackles through the phone, her tone hopeful. “Mhm,” you hum, “I’ll be there in like… 20 minutes?” “Ugh, 20 whole minutes?” she whines as you chuckle at how childish she could be. “Oh, I’m sorry? Do you want me to put my wheelchair in turbo mode?” You joke. “Oh my goddd, stoppp,” she groans, muffling her chuckles behind her hand. 
When you first made jokes about your injury and wheelchair, Paige had completely frozen, not knowing how to react. It had taken her a while, but now she was used to your stupid little jokes and knew you made them because you liked making people laugh.
You laugh softly at her reaction before saying goodbye and hanging up the phone. You get out of bed, hopping into your wheelchair with ease, having been through this whole thing what feels like a million times before. You quickly get ready, grabbing a book Azzi had been wanting to borrow for a while and putting it in your bag before heading out. 
You were excited to see Paige and Azzi again and were curious to see what their other friends were like. You were pretty nervous, though. You’d be the odd one out in their usual little bubble. You didn’t let that stop you from going over, though. You’d never really been afraid to take leaps, and weren’t going to start now either.
When you make it to Paige and Azzi’s dorm in record time (the wind must’ve helped you make it there so fast…), you let your presence be known with your signature knock. Paige opens the door almost immediately with her trademark grin. “Hey P,” you smile as you wheel your way inside. “Hey Y/N/N,” she replies. “So, when’re the others gonna be here?” you say as you follow her towards her room. “Don’t know. Half an hour maybe?” she shrugs as she plops down on her bed. You nod your head as you look around. 
You’d been in the blonde’s room a few times already, but you still liked seeing if anything had changed. Her room was filled with the usual clutter, clothes thrown on the chair in the corner, a few water bottles next to her bed,...
She pats the space next to her, inviting you in. You wheel closer before heaving yourself onto the bed. Blue eyes follow your every move, ready to jump into action if you need help. Once you’re comfortable, you lean back and smile at her. “Grey's Anatomy?” you ask, your head tilted in question. Paige’s face immediately lights up as she leans over to grab her laptop. You continue the show where you’d left off last time before you hear commotion in the living room. 
You look over at Paige, who looks back at you with a pout on her face. You chuckle, sitting up a little straighter to hop back into your wheelchair. Once you’re seated, you wait for the blonde to grab her crutches and lead the way. You laugh softly at her huffing and puffing, knowing she’d rather watch her show right now than hang out with her team.
When you make it to the living room, you see KK, Nika, Ice, and Azzi chatting as they shrug off their jackets. When they notice Paige and you, they quiet down. “Y/N! Hey, I didn’t know you were here,” Azzi beams at you. “Guys, this is Y/N, the girl I’ve told you about, the one that helped me during my recovery,” she says cheerfully. KK, Nika, and Ice smile kindly at you before introducing themselves. 
“Hey, it’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” you smile. “Only good things, I hope?” Nika teases. “Meh,” you reply with a smirk. The girls laugh before finding a spot to sit as you guys hang out. They leave 2 spots open on the couch for Paige and you, making you send them a thankful smile. 
You sit down and get to know the girls a little better. You could see why the UConn team was such a close-knit group. The girls were funny, sweet, and protective and treated each other like family. 
After a while, KK and Ice get bored and decide to turn on Paige’s PlayStation to play Fortnite. You continue to talk to everyone, laughing at the funny stories the girls tell you about Paige, trying to embarrass her. The blonde’s face turns a bright red as she complains about them being jerks, but her bright smile doesn’t leave her face. Your heart feels like it’s grown two sizes with how happy you’re feeling.
“Oh wait, Ace, I’ve got that book you asked for,” you say. You look towards your bag, seeing it near KK. “Hey KK, d’you mind grabbing my bag for me?” you ask the gaming girl. “Hm?” she hums distractedly. “Grab it yourself, bro,” she says, completely focused on the game. You see Azzi open her mouth to say something, but you hold up your hand to stop her. You send her an evil grin as mischief swirls around in your eyes. You make your face neutral, maybe even a little pouty, as you let out a sad sigh, “Alright.” 
You grab onto your wheelchair a little louder than necessary as you lean forward to move into it. KK’s head whips around so fast, you think she might’ve given herself whiplash. “WAIT, NO!” she yells, her eyes wide as she scrambles to get up to grab it for you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone move as fast as her at that moment. 
The girls around you slap their hands in front of their mouths to stifle their giggles. The younger girl looks at them with a pouty frown, feeling bad for forgetting you couldn’t easily get up to grab something. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she hands you the book. You send her a wink and a grin, letting her know you were just joking. You weren't offended about the fact she seemed to have forgotten. It showed you that the girls didn’t just see you as someone with a disability.
She sits back down next to Ice, sticking her tongue out at the still laughing girl. “s’not funny,” she mutters, staring at the TV as she continues the game. You could get used to hanging out with these girls. You loved the way they constantly teased each other, but never went too far. Many people were too scared to make any type of jokes around you, too focused on your impairment to realize you were also just a person. 
20 minutes go by before a phone rings. You recognize the ringtone as Paige’s and look towards the sound. Her phone is lying on the table near Ice and KK, who both look over for a split second before their attention goes back towards the TV. “KK, gimme my phone,” Paige demands, leaning forward to grab it from her. “Get it yourself,” the younger girl quips back, not even glancing at the blonde. Paige looks over at the other girls for a second, a “Seriously?” clear on her face. 
She grins before copying you. Sigh. “Fine,” she mutters, grabbing onto her crutches, making them bang against each other. KK looks back and deadpans at her. “Go ahead,” she says dryly, turning back to her match. 
“Bruh, what the hell,” Paige huffs as she gets up to grab her phone. You let out a deep belly laugh at the annoyed look on her face. The blonde turns to you with an unamused frown, as you send her an innocent smile and a shrug. 
You guys hang out for a few hours before it’s time to head back to your dorm. Your chest feels light when you say your goodbyes. Each girl gives you a hug with the promise of hanging out again soon. When you make it back to your room, you see you already have 2 texts from Paige. “had fun 2day, thanks for coming over” and “think KK likes you more than me”. 
That night, you go to bed with a wide smile on your face.
Days go by, and you stay in touch with all of the girls, but you mainly hang out with Paige. Today was another one of your planned hangouts, this time at your dorm, but the second the blonde arrived, you knew it wouldn’t be all fun and games. She’d just gone to physical therapy for her knee, and her face looks thunderous. She hadn’t slept well, constantly waking up because of her knee, she’s sick and tired of not being able to play, and physical therapy had gone horribly. 
When she walks in, she wordlessly flops down on your couch as she stares at the ceiling, a frown etched into her face. You go over to your fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for the both of you before returning to her side. You give her the bottle and wait patiently for her to talk. “I fucking hate this,” she fumes. “It’s been weeks since the game, why is everything still so… so… ughhhh,” she groans, unable to find the words. You give her arm a squeeze in support, but she shrugs you off, shooting upright as she continues her heated rant. 
You stay calm as you listen to her, knowing she needs this moment to blow off some steam. When she quiets down, heaving from all the talking, you quietly try to comfort her. “I know it sucks, P, but you need to just keep going, don’t give up. You’ll be on the court again soon enough, and it’ll be like you never left-” you can’t finish your sentence before Paige interrupts. 
“NO, YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT!” she yells, her frustrations high. You wince slightly at the volume but don’t say anything. You give the blonde a moment to calm down and let everything sink in. You’re not offended, you know people say things they don’t mean in moments like this. 
Once she realizes what she just said to you, the one person who understands more than anything, she looks at you with guilt in her eyes. Her blue eyes having become a shade darker as they look at you sadly. You see tears starting to well up before she leans forward, putting her face in her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whimpers in shame. You lean forward again, softly grabbing her wrist to take her hands away from her face. You hold one hand between yours as you catch her eye. You give her a gentle smile, letting her know you’re not upset.
“I shouldn’t have yelled… I shouldn’t’ve said that,” she mumbles regretfully. “It’s okay, P,” you murmur, giving her hand a squeeze. “You’re not mad?” She looks at you like a kicked puppy. You shake your head with a smile, “I’ve been through worse. I’ll survive a pretty girl raising her voice at me.” She gives you a tiny, sad smile, leaning her forehead against your entwined hands.
You start telling her your story. The story of how you grew up, playing every sport under the sun, up until that one dreadful day. You tell her about the dark, depressive hole you fell into after you woke up paralyzed, the way you pushed everyone away, and how you thought nothing would ever be okay again. The whole time you’re talking, she looks you in the eyes, barely blinking as she listens intently. Her jaw clenches as her eyes become glassy when you talk about your depression. When you finish talking about what it was like the first few months after the accident, you pause for a moment, letting everything sink in.
“How’d you do it…?” She asks, her voice cracking with emotion. “It was hard… really fucking hard,” you start. “I pushed everyone away at first, but my family never gave up on me. They helped me realize that while it really fucking sucked… I was still alive. And I would find new things to care about. And I did!” You smile. “With all my free time, I started looking for new hobbies. I found out pretty quickly that I don’t have the patience for puzzles, and I poked myself one too many times to enjoy cross-stitching,” you say with a playful grin, making the athlete breathe out a little laugh.
“I learned that I have pretty good rhythm, so I was able to pick up playing the guitar and the piano pretty easily. I realized that doodling really helps me unwind after a long day, which is funny because it’s the complete opposite of how I used to relax. I got better and better at drawing and tried out a bunch of different mediums, but my favorite is still pencil drawings. I’d always loved reading but never made enough time for it, but now I try to finish at least one book a week… Uhh, I bought a PlayStation which I play on maybe a little too much, but you know what that’s like, Ms Fortnite addict.” You tease. She rolls her eyes, but you can tell that she’s no longer feeling so bad, a tiny smile decorating her face. 
You let silence fill the room for a moment. “I’m not saying this in a way of being like, ‘Stop complaining and get over it’, but I promise P, things will be okay. You’re the Paige Bueckers… It’s gonna take a lot more than a torn ACL for you to stop being you. Have some faith.” You send her a comforting smile as you squeeze her hand. She nods at you, her muscles relaxed as she finally lets out a relieved sigh. “Thanks… for everything,” she breathes. You shake your head with a smile, thinking it’s silly she’s thanking you for being her friend. “You don’t need to thank me for that… but you’re welcome. And thank you for including me in your group of friends… I don’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun.”
You two talk for the rest of the afternoon, ordering a pizza when dinner time arrives. After you’re done eating, you migrate to your bedroom, letting a movie play in the background as you keep talking about everything and nothing. You’re sitting on your bed, telling Paige a story, waving your arms animatedly as her blue eyes stare into yours. “... And then she looked at me and I almost passed out from laughing! You should’ve seen the look on Ace’s face!” you say, hiccuping a little from laughing. The blonde laughs along, her chest feeling warm at the sound of your laugh.
“So what’s up with that nickname anyway?” she questions as she leans her head on her hand. “Ace?” You ask. “Well, her name’s Azzi, but people call her Azz, so then I started calling her Ace, as in A C E, like in a deck of cards. The ace cards are the highest cards in the deck, and I think of her quite highly,” you explain.
“Okay, but doesn’t it depend on the game?” she asks, tilting her head like a confused puppy. “Hm?” “Well, isn’t the ace card the lowest in certain games?” she says with a raised eyebrow. You can’t help laughing as she says that. “God, are you always this negative?” You tease, giving her a little push. She rolls her eyes as she scrunches her nose, sticking her tongue out. 
You continue talking until the sky becomes dark. Paige looks out the window, a slight frown growing on her face at the thought of having to leave. “Do you wanna stay the night?” you ask nonchalantly, but you feel your heart beat a little faster. Her bright blue eyes find yours immediately as she looks to see if you’re joking. “Yeah, sure, if that’s cool with you,” she says as she fiddles with her necklace. You smirk at how nervous she seems. “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t, now would I?” She slaps your arm lightly to shut you up. “Go ahead and grab some clothes from my closet,” you tell her, hopping into your wheelchair to go get ready for bed in your bathroom.
When you return, you freeze for a moment, your heart swelling at the blonde dressed in your clothes. When she looks over at you, you start moving again, letting her use the bathroom as well. A few minutes later, she returns, looking around a little sheepishly. You pat the bed next to you, sending her a calming smile. You continue talking a little longer, but slowly feel your eyes grow heavy. You fall asleep to Paige’s tired mumbling. The last thing you remember is a soft hand grabbing yours, entwining your fingers before you doze off.
After that night, your relationship with Paige changes. You feel like you’ve somehow become even closer to her and are happy to call her your best friend. You’re rarely seen without the other, always attached to the hip. You make sure to come with her to physical therapy for silent support, while she often joins you in the library as you finish another book on your list. Your favorite hangout spot is the coffee shop where you two properly talked for the first time. You make sure to go there every week, sometimes even being joined by the girls on the team (who you’d all gotten to know pretty well by now).
When the end of Paige’s recovery nears, you’re a little nervous. While you never blamed Azzi for getting too busy to hang out a lot after she recovered, you would still be upset if the same happened with the blonde. All your worries were for naught, however, when Paige continues to call you every chance she gets, sending you quick texts when she can’t. She often adds silly selfies as well, just to make you laugh.
You’ve known you’ve had a crush on the girl for a while now, but you never said anything. Paige needed to focus on getting better without any distractions. You also didn’t want her to think your whole friendship was based on you having a crush on her, so it was best you just kept quiet.
Paige, in return, was also too scared to tell you about her crush. She loved the friendship you two had and didn’t want to ruin it just because she’d caught feelings. She was afraid that every glance, every touch, and every soft smile was just you being a good friend. She couldn’t bear to lose you after everything you’d done for her, so she kept her mouth shut.
Azzi, being the observant friend she is, immediately knew about both of your feelings when she’d “caught” you two asleep on the couch, holding each other close. She made it her mission to get you two together. She started off by trying to convince Paige to confess, but that didn’t work out well, seeing as the blonde was too scared and always shrugged her off. Her next plan was to try to make you confess, knowing you were the bravest person she knew. That sadly also didn’t work, seeing as you were too considerate of others to think about your own feelings when you knew Paige could end up getting hurt. 
So here she was, back on plan A. “Come onnn, P, she’s head over heels for you, I’m telling you!” The blonde rolls her eyes so hard it gives her a bit of a headache. “Azzi, please, we’ve been over this before, let it goooo,” Paige groans, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach at the thought of you liking her back. “No! I’m not gonna let this go. You two mean so much to me, I just want you guys to be happy,” she says with a sad pout on her face. Paige lifts her head from where she’s lying on her bed to look at the brunette, and groans again at the kicked puppy look on her face. She could never say no to her when she made that face.
Paige sighs and stares at the ceiling for a moment. “...How sure are you?” She mutters, looking over at Azzi with desperation in her eyes. The brunette gives her a soft but excited smile. “110%, P. You know I wouldn’t say this if there was even a slight chance I was wrong.” The blonde’s cheeks turn a soft pink as a happy yet slightly embarrassed smile shows on her face. “Okay then, how do we do this?”
You’re hanging out with a friend when you hear the familiar ringtone go off. You excuse yourself for a moment, picking up the phone. “What’s up, P?” You grin. “Hey Y/N/N!” You can hear the smile in her voice. “You’re coming to our next game, right?” she asks. “Uhm, hello? It’s your first game back on the court, of course I’m coming,” you tease, sounding slightly offended she felt like she had to ask. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she chuckles, “jus’ wanted to be sure.” “I’ll be your biggest cheerleader, don’t even worry about it,” you promise. “Ight, I’ll hold you to that,” she replies before you two say your goodbyes.
When the day of Paige’s first game back arrives, you know the blonde is bursting with nerves. You meet up with her before the game to wish her good luck and to encourage her. Her leg shakes up and down as she bites her nails. Her eyes flit around the room as she nods along to what you’re saying, but you know she’s not listening. You roll closer to her, grabbing her hand and pulling it away from her mouth. You give it a gentle squeeze as she finally looks at you. “Don’t worry so much, P. You’ve been working your ass off for this moment, and you’re gonna do great, okay?” you say, trying to reassure her as much as you can. Her shoulders loosen as she finally takes in what you’re saying.
“Thanks, Y/N/N,” she mutters with a small smile. You give her a wink before you leave to wish the other girls good luck and to find your spot before the crowd starts filtering in. While Paige is extremely nervous about her first game back, she’s more nervous about what’s going to happen at halftime. She really hopes she won’t embarrass herself. She walks back over to her team, quickly going over everything again to make sure everything would go exactly the way she’d planned. 
The first quarter of the game flies by before she even knows it. She already scored 12 points, giving UConn the advantage. As she sits on the bench, listening to coach Geno, she looks around. Her eyes immediately find yours as you send her two thumbs up. She grins before locking back into the game. 
The second quarter goes by even faster, making Paige’s stomach clench with nerves. They were now 9 points ahead, so it was still anyone’s game. First, however, it was time for halftime. 
The blonde wipes her sweat on a towel, looking over at Azzi. The brunette gives her a reassuring smile before walking over to you. You don’t expect her to walk over but smile at her nonetheless. “Hey Y/N/N, how much do you trust me?” she grins. You raise an eyebrow at her, but the smile on your face doesn’t disappear. “With my life,” you reply. She sends you a beaming smile, giving your shoulder a squeeze as she wheels you onto the court. You chuckle as you ask her what’s going on. She simply says, “You’ll see.” 
Paige walks up to you, fiddling with her hands nervously. She bends down on one knee and starts talking, her voice quivering a little. “Y/N… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me.” You open your mouth to tell her off, but she holds up her hand before you can say a word. “I know, I know, I don’t need to thank you… but I want to. When you entered my life, I was going through a very difficult time. I felt like I was drowning on dry land… But you? You were like my life buoy, not letting me sink. You’re this amazing, strong person, and you’ve made me want to be like you. To never give up and to look at life in a positive way, even when things go wrong.” She swallows harshly. You grab her hand and give it a squeeze, speechless at the girl's words. Your chest feels warm as your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of its cage.
“The past few months have meant more to me than you could imagine, and… I fell for you harder than I thought I ever could… So… I want to ask you this,” she says, still nervous but a bit more confident as she sees the adoration in your eyes. She stands up and accepts the flowers Nika gives her. She hands them to you as she steps aside. 
Your eyes tear up as you see the scene in front of you. The whole UConn team, as well as the opponent's team, are standing there. All holding various items. A few girls are holding cardboard signs with the words “Will you go out with me?” on them. Your free hand flies to your mouth as you look up at Paige. The blonde is already staring at you lovingly with a soft smile. You chuckle at the amount of love you’re feeling right now as you nod your head at her. You can barely hear the crowd cheer around you as you feel your blood rushing in your ears.
The star player’s smile becomes even wider as her eyes crinkle. She grabs your hand, placing a kiss on it as all players start making their way towards you. You get handed all kinds of gifts from the blonde. Your favorite book annotated by her, a Lego set you two had talked about getting, a new pack of expensive pencils, a guitar pick maker, and a bunch of other things. You feel so incredibly seen by her that you find it hard to keep your tears at bay.
Once you’ve received all the gifts and thanked Paige a bunch, you make your way back to your seat. You hear a few “congrats” aimed your way as fans smile widely at you. When you turn back to the court, you see the blonde already looking at you. She sends you a flirty wink, making you chuckle as you shake your head in amusement. While the circumstances of you two meeting weren’t the best, you thank your lucky stars that the universe guided you to the Paige Bueckers. UConn’s star player. The golden student. The future of women’s basketball. A legend in the making. The girl that stole your heart but gave you hers in return.
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