#wrote this both right when i woke up and just now

[tokoyan]

- First date, Forever Memory.

pairing: baku x reader

Warning: none, just straight up fluff

word count: 1,150

a/n: the long waited part 2 is here (its been like 2 days). anyways hes so cute oml 😭<3

pt1 // pt2

You were waiting outside the café, phone in hand, calling him for the third time. No answer. A knot started forming in your stomach. You tried to stay calm, but the thought crept in "what if he stood me up?" No… Baku wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t.

What you didn’t know was that the night before, he was tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep. He was so excited, he couldn’t stop imagining how beautiful you’d look, wondering what outfit you’d wear, what perfume you’d have on... "Okay, that’s enough" he told himself. He really needed to sleep.

But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t.

Right as you were about to call him a fourth time, you suddenly heard heavy panting and the rapid tapping of feet. Someone was running. You looked up, and there he was—Baku, sprinting toward you. You let out a deep sigh of relief, your heart easing as you realized he actually came.

He stopped in front of you, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“I’m… so sorry,” he said between gasps. “I couldn’t sleep last night, but when I finally did… I woke up too late.” He wiped the sweat off his forehead before finally meeting your gaze.

Oh. My. God.

You looked stunning. He didn’t just think it—he said it outloud without even realizing.

You laughed softly and pulled him into a hug.

“You had me thinking you weren’t gonna show up” you said, giving him a slight pout.

“I’d rather get ambushed by 20 guys than miss our date,” he joked.

You playfully slapped his arm. “Baku, don’t say stuff like that.”

He grinned. “But it’s true.”

You rolled your eyes with a small smile, and the two of you walked into the café together.

Baku wasn’t the type to go to places like this. The polaroids on the wall, the cozy decorations, the people chatting quietly, the soft music playing—it was all too… calm. But he followed your lead as you walked to a table by the window.

Before you could even reach for the chair, he quickly slid it out for you.

“Thank you” you said, flashing him a smile as you sat down. He sat across from you, still looking a little unsure of what to do.

“So… do we just order now, or…?” he asked.

“If that’s what you want to do.”

“Oh, yeah… sure.”

A few seconds later, someone approached your table with a notepad.

“What will you guys be getting?”

“I’ll have an iced coffee,” you said, glancing at the menu.

You looked at Baku, waiting to hear his choice. He hadn’t tried any of these drinks before and didn’t want to seem clueless in front of you.

“Uh… I’ll have a black coffee.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly, surprised. The server wrote it down and walked away.

“A black coffee? Really?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, I just… didn’t think you were a black coffee kind of guy.”

Before you could say more, he cut in.

“Baku, we didn’t have to come to a café if you didn’t wan—”

“No, no. You wanted to, and I’ll always go where you want to go.” He crossed his arms.

You looked at him, speechless, before letting out a soft laugh.

“You’re so amazing.”

“And you’re the most beautiful girl on this planet,” he said smugly.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” you said, turning away with a grin.

Your drinks eventually arrived, and the two of you chatted as you sipped. He didn’t really like his black coffee, but he drank it anyway—not wanting to make a fuss or make you worry. Afterward, you both stepped out into the breeze, the sun shining gently above.

There wasn’t a specific destination—you just walked side by side, enjoying the peaceful scenery. For a while, neither of you spoke, taking in the calm.

Then you lightly brushed your fingers against his. He hadn’t held your hand earlier because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. So, you took matters into your own hands—literally—and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers. He tensed up in surprise at first, then quickly relaxed.

“Baku…” you said softly, stopping in your tracks.

He turned to you. “Hmm? What is it?”

“Can we take a picture under that tree?” you asked, pointing to a beautiful sakura tree nearby.

“Whatever you ask for, you shall receive,” he joked, and you both walked over.

Standing under the tree, you pulled out your phone and tried to get the right selfie angle, but your arm was too short.

“Here, let me…” he said, taking the phone and stretching out his arm.

“Baku, we should pose.”

“What should we do?”

You held up a peace sign, and he did the same.

“One… two… three.” Click.

You took a few more photos together, playing around with different poses. Then, you tapped his shoulder.

“Baku…”

He looked at you, curious.

“You should take a picture of this.”

And just like that, you leaned in and kissed him. His eyes widened slightly, but then he melted into it. His arm still stretched out, he snapped a few photos—maybe too many—before turning off your phone and slipping it into his pocket so he could fully lean into the kiss.

You kissed under the beautiful tree, on a beautiful day.

And in that moment, Baku wouldn’t have wished for anything else. All he wanted was this—just you, just now.

[faegoddessog]

Day 1: Affectionate

Alright loves. Yesterday, April 30th, is Kitten and Austin's wedding anniversary in my little AU. It just so happened that what I wrote for today (and the next few) is perfect timing. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, Kitten and Austin are from my first ever fan fic novel, 72 hours of Bliss that came roaring out of me when I discovered our darling man. For those fans of 72 hours, I shifted the perspective from 2nd to 3rd person as kindof an experiment. Let me know how it feels.

Enjoy!

Warnings: mature content, 18+, Meh it's not overmuch in this installment. Just a bit of touchy feely and sliding in.

Affectionate:

Kitten stretched in the white, high thread-count sheets, listening to the rhythmic rush of the waves outside their lavish hotel suite. The eight months they had spent apart while she was on The Ice had changed them both. Made them far more aware of what they had together. The year he spent filming Masters of the Air had been a series of back and forth for her between London and Greece, not to mention wedding planning.

No, they didn’t have a normal first year of marriage by any means. His schedule had been insane since Elvis! had premiered at Cannes the month after their wedding and his star blew up. Filled with intense training, filming two movies and the insane awards circuit and all the travel and interviews that had entailed, it had been a whirlwind of a year.  She spent as much time as she could with him, but she had been busy too, with establishing her Women in the Trades foundation. Honestly, being thrust into the public eye as his surprise wife had really boosted her efficacy in that arena. She was not the normal Hollywood wife. Some people loved it, some hated it. But now that the Oscars had come and gone, they were getting some breathing room. 

He could have been changed by the meteoric fame, by the intensity of the attention on him. But he stayed so grounded, so real. He was still her Austin.  When he had mentioned this to him, he reached out and held her face. “That’s because of you,” he had said. It made her cry.  That was right before he had surprised her with a month-long trip to France for their one year anniversary in a few weeks. They had arrived last night. 

She had been waking up next to him as her husband for a year now, and she still had a moment of doubt just before she opened her eyes if he wasn’t touching her. 

Today is one of those days.Before she opens her eyes, she extends her hand behind her and grazes his warmth, probably his back or a thigh. A smile kisses her lips and she lets her mind relax, curling up with her back to him. Suddenly a bulging bicep wraps around her and pulls, making her yelp. She was constantly in awe of how big and strong he had gotten. His warm body presses against her back, his long fingered hand cups her breast. 

“Hey, being manhandled isn’t a nice way to wake up your wife,” she chides playfully. 

“What do you expect when you touch me like that,” he growls his voice rough with sleep. Oh, maybe not his thigh. 

He had eaten her out last night, once they had showered off the plane. Jet lag had caught up with her quickly and she had fallen asleep right after. He had debated masturbating in the bathroom, but decided he could wait. “Plus,  you were already awake, I could tell.” 

“Oh can you?” she smiles, remembering his tongue on her. 

“I watch you sleep all the time, I know,” he nuzzles his nose in her hair.

It was probably true. He had that classic creative affliction of having ‘thoughts’ in the middle of the night. She often woke to him jotting things down in his journal in the wee hours. 

“You got a little something for me there husband?” Her hips press back, feeling his hard morning length. 

“Little? Wife, you know better,” she can hear his smile as he pushes his hips into her backside.  He was grateful that she had brought it up. He hadn’t wanted to push the issue, but lord he had been so horny for her.

“Pardon moi, Mon Roi. A little big something for me then?” she smiled. “I should get up and brush my teeth,” she really hated morning breath. She tried to push away, but he held her fast.

“No, Kitten. I can’t wait, I need you now,” he growls in her ear. He reaches to his bedside table and offers her a breath strip then pops one in his mouth. 

He knew her so well. 

The warm sea air, blowing through the long white curtains, the low morning buzz in her voice and sexy french words just ignite him. It’s like those months spent, just the two of them, falling in love, in Australia.  That was before the world wanted every piece of him.

His hand trails down her side to cup her mons as the minty rectangle dissolves on her tongue. His palm presses in, shaking just a bit. Breath escapes her involuntarily. Spreading his fingers, he presses them on either side of her smooth lips, rhythmically massaging her. God he knew just how to prime her. 

Her inner succubus stretches. It’s been a while since she had been properly woken. 

The extra 25 pounds of pure muscle he had put on for Dune had elevated his testosterone, but the insanity of his recent life had forced him into uncreative sex. It had been months of lubed quickies and blowjobs, vibrator assisted orgasms and exhaustingly tight daily timelines.  Basically maintenance sex. He had spent two weeks just sleeping after the somewhat disappointing Academy Awards. Not what one would expect for a first year of wedded bliss.  

His sweet Kitten had been his rock through it all.  Even when they figured out who she was and the internet blasted her as a gold digger.  She had just giggled, knowing her net worth was just a bit higher than his. She never once complained, never once let the negative press get her down. God she was amazing and he was determined to make it up to her.

He was going to spend this month repenting, praying for absolution at the oldest altar.

He spends minutes gently pressing, rubbing with his palm and teasing with his fingertips. His mouth works on her neck and shoulder, planting affectionate kisses, licking and sucking softly. He gently pinches her lips low down,  pooching them out and bringing her wetness to the surface. She lifts her knee, giving him room to work. He pulls her labia apart, barely stretching the hood of her clit. 

She gasps, pushing her hips back toward him.

“There’s my Kitten,” he whispers.

His middle finger dips gently onto her exposed little lips. It’s warm and so wet. He moves his finger in a slow circle, spreading the moisture. 

“God I love how wet you are Kitten,” he murmurs in her ear. 

She turns her head, reaching up to his face and pulls him to her. The tip of her tongue flicking against his full lips. 

“All for you, always for you my love,” she says into his mouth. 

It had been so long since he had taken his time with her, so long since he had the energy. She knew how hard the past few months had been on his introverted, shy self. Ironically, she just wants him inside her and now.

“Please Austin,” her back arches, opening herself up to him. Making it clear what she wants.

He pulls his hips back away from her to make room for his pulsing hard cock to slip between her thighs. His wet fingered hand moves to her ass, lifting her cheek to make room. She reaches down and guides him, rubbing his head in her juices before he pushes in. They both sigh as he sheaths himself in her.  

Home. He’s home. 

To be Continued....

Peeps who may want to know! , @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight @thisworldisntrealhoney,  @1nho,  @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo  @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke @peggyao3, @sunflowers-77, @estrogensensuallovegasm  @ivycjl @jjubilee-fluff @psycheetamore @austinshirogane @ab4eva

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[magical-girl-coral]

💕 for the ask game.... narabees please my leige.....it can be as cutesy or them being awful for eachother as you want... go crazy

Gonna make this a part two to the last fic I wrote you for about them

Send me emoji(s) and I'll write a drabble

"EVERYONE, IT'S TIME TO PLAY SPIN THE BOOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTLE!"

Nara woke up from her little trance thanks to some lunatic with a megaphone in one hand and an empty wine bottle in the other, forcing her to wake up back to the real world where a very wet Kristen was now grinning even more wildly than before.

"Spin the bottle? We's fucking miss this!" She jumped out of the pull and grabbed Nara by the arm (great goddess her muscles were glistening and flexing), making them both bolt straight into the manor. "Last time this happened, Aelwyn got jumped on by Ivy, Gorgug made out with Oisin three times and Adaine got her kisses in from five different lesbians. You're gonna love it!"

Nara's face was beyond on fire. It was molten lava. "Wait, wait, I'm not ready for this-!"

But it was too late by then. Next thing Nara knew, she was sitting in the circle with the most beautiful women she has ever seen and some okay to decent looking men. Looking at Fabian hurt her though. She was sure he was a lesbian when they met and that fact is going to haunt for the rest of her life.

Said host was also standing over them with the wine bottle and the authority of a battle master. "Alright, here's the rules; if a bottle is cocked and landed on two people, we roll it again as threesomes are not in the rule book. In this house, we honor the cock."

From somewhere near them, Nara heard the groans of a tired goblin.

"Secondly, if two people got horned up from a make out session, please leave to use one of the empty bedrooms upstairs. We know you think you hide can your boners well. I can safely say you cannot."

An embarrassed blue dragonborn from the left of her blushed and coughed into his fist.

"And finally, if you are in a committed monogamous relationship, you have no right to be surprised if your partner comes over pissed off. You have crossed a line neither of you discussed before so this is fully on you. Are we good?"

Everyone agreed with him.

"Good. Now as your wonderful host, I shall be the one to spin and quickly leave because my girlfriend isn't here and I need to go sulk somewhere private with The Ball. Enjoy yourself to all!"

And with that, the game was on.

The first few rounds weren't too bad. The bottle landed between Ragh and Gorgug with Mary Ann giving a thumbs up as they made out. It landed next on Lucy and Ivy, who gave each other a quickly friendly kiss before departing. Afterwards it landed on Oisin (the blue dragonborn apparently) and Ruben, with the former jumping on top of the wizard and landing in a good comedic theatrical kiss.

Nara laughed with the rest of the ground, feeling some of the tension leave her shoulders.

Until the bottle of course had to land between her and Kristen.

Cause why the fuck not?

Kristen shifted in her seat, the top of her shoulders blushing with her face. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to. It's just a game after all."

Nara glared at her. First she stole her girlfriend, now she's poking at her pride?

Oh it's on.

Nara stood up, walked to Kristen, grabbed her by the back of her stupid head and smacked their lips together hard enough for it to echo across the first floor.

During the fifteen seconds of their kiss, Nara had control over the movement of their lips. She decided where to move what and where to how they both like it. During that time, Kristen gently cupped Nara's cheek with delicacy that would have angered her more if it didn't feel so nice. By the time they were done, Kristen was on her back, her pupils were fully dilated and her lips looked plump and pink.

Nara stood up and dusted her dress. "I believe I proved my point. If you don't mind, I shall excuse myself for the rest of the evening."

She left without bothering to hear what the others had to say, going around the manor and finally finding a room that didn't smell of alcohol, drugs or sex.

She closed the door shut and flung herself onto the bed, screaming as loud as she could into the bed until her vocal cords gave out. She then gathered herself together and knelt by the window, crossing her hands together in prayer as she stared at the moon.

"Great goddess of the moon, the wolves and of my heart. She who lights our way in our darkness nights, guides us through the blackest hour, and feels our heart with hope, please do not let me fall in love with this fucking disaster of a lesbian."

[vogelmeister]

anyways i am feeling kinda brave today so im gonna share a potentially unpopular taylor swift hot take. when i was talking to my friend yesterday about ttpd i realised that i kinda have a similar problem with the anthology as i do with evermore.

like don't get me wrong, both have absolute gems (willow, tolerate it, long story short, gold rush and NBNC from evermore are great and i love the albatross, so high school, the prophecy black dog, manuscript etc) but i think both collections (bc anthology is not an album) suffer because they came out connected to a much superior more cohesive work, and both almost feel like rejects from the body of work that proceeded it.

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 6 (the finale)

Our time has come, this labor of love is *finished* (at least for now, i could probably be convinced to return to these loves soon)

warnings: none pairing: lando x singlemom!reader word count: 2k words

- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - A Package Deal - Part 3 - A Package Deal - Part 4 - A Package Deal - Part 5 - Master List

yourusername (private) posted

yourusername cold but happy carlossainz still can't believe you convinced Lando to spend Christmas in the cold. >>>yourusername oh it wasn't me! Stella said she wanted to learn how to ski, next thing I know he's booking a 2 week trip to Switzerland! >>>landonorris what my girl wants, my girl gets. 🤷🏻

Christmas, 2025 "Momma, are you sure Santa knows to bring my presents here this year and to not leave them at home?" The concern etched on Stella's face has you grinning into your wine glass.

"Yes, my darling." You assure her, patting her head as she snuggles deeper into Lando's side. "I wrote him a letter weeks ago, remember? You were with me when we mailed it! When you wake up tomorrow morning, all of your presents will be underneath that tree right over there."

This had been Stella's number one concern ever since Lando had announced that he'd booked a house at one of the most exclusive resorts in Gstaad, Switzerland for the Christmas holiday. You had spent a significant amount of time since discussing the fact that yes, Santa did know she wasn't going to be at home this year and yes, he would be able to deliver her presents here instead.

You had been in the mountain town for a few days now, spending nearly every waking moment on the slopes. It was beginning to feel routine, the way you all woke up around the same time and had breakfast together before getting your snow gear on and heading out onto the mountain. You had enrolled Stella in ski school that first day, despite Lando's protests that he could absolutely teach her to ski by himself, and she was thriving. It took a Herculean effort to get her off of her skis every evening but you were happy Stella was having fun.

Today you had managed to get Stella off the mountain early in order to go to dinner with Max and Pietra, who were also staying at the resort for Christmas. Max's initial reservations about Lando dating a single mom had long since evaporated into thin air, after he had seen how much both Stella and Lando adored each other this year. By the middle of the summer, you and Pietra had also become much closer as well, so you enjoyed traveling with Lando's friends who you now considered yours as well.

There was a crackling fire in the huge fireplace that took up most of the external wall of the large four bedroom chalet-style home and above the fireplace, Elf played on the tv. Stella was snuggled up between you and Lando, her head buried underneath Lando's arm, while her feet were stretched across your lap. Lando's arm is flung over the side of the couch, his fingers tangled in yours as his thumb brushes soft circles over the back of your hand. After a few days with a lot of activity, it felt nice to finally spend the evening relaxing in the quiet of your own space.

As the credits to Elf begin to roll, you tap Stella's feet, a signal that it's time to get moving. "Come on, baby girl, it's time for bed. Go brush your teeth and then I'll be in to read more of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and tuck you in, okay? The sooner you get to sleep, the faster Santa comes!"

Stella stretches out her legs and whines, sounding a lot like a cat after it wakes up from a long nap. "I want Dad to tuck me in tonight."

The entire world goes still as you suck in a breath at the name she just used for the very first time. On the other side of the couch, you see Lando freeze too, gaze snapping straight to you as his fingers tighten around yours. The request has your heart squeezing in your chest, a response to her question simply unable to form in your brain.

Stella senses the mood shift in the room and glances up first at you and then over at Lando. "What? Can't Daddy tuck me in just this once?"

Daddy.

Lando's stomach does a somersault up into his throat as he grips onto your hand for reassurance. Had she just...

It really shouldn't have been a surprise, he'd realize later once Stella was fast asleep and you were curled up in his arms in your shared bed. Ever since Silverstone back in July, Lando had practically moved in to your house in all but name. He'd decided to rent out his Monaco apartment to one of the new rookie drivers next season, choosing to remain full time in England where you were. The teachers and parents at school all knew him not as Lando Norris, Formula 1 driver but as the man that often picked up Stella from school whenever he was able to. Stella's teacher had even begun including him on her weekly email newsletters she always sent out on Friday afternoons. He was as ingratiated into this family as both you and Stella were.

But hearing her call him dad for the first time? The new title did something to Lando's heart that he wasn't sure he'd ever recover from.

Emotion claws at his throat as he struggles to find the simple words to answer her request.

"Of course he can, honey." You whisper, seeing the shock and adoration sit heavy on Lando's face. Your own voice is with thick with emotion too. "Do you need help finding some jammies to change into?" You ask as Stella slowly gets up from her little nest between you and Lando.

"Dad can help me." She says with a shrug, as if the name is the most natural thing in the world.

Lando moves to get off the couch as Stella pads down the hallway, the brand new teddy bear she had conned him into buying at a shop today tucked into the crook of her elbow. He squeezes your shoulder as you look up at him, brilliant smile stretching over your face.

"You okay?" You ask as he rounds the couch, following behind Stella, dazed look still on his face.

Lando rubs at the back of his neck, stopping for a moment before turning back to you. His eyes shimmer with tears as he glances behind him and then back at you. "I think so...is...is that okay with you? Her calling me..." He pauses, trying to work his mouth around the next word, "dad like that?"

You're surprised to see concern flit across his face, like you could possibly be upset at what had just happened. "Lando." You murmur, rising from the couch to stand in front of him. You slip your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips are warm despite the fact that his kiss is hesitant at first. He quickly reads the emotion you pour into him though: confidence, love, desire. All of it positive and he knows without needing to hear anything vocalized that you're just happy about his new title as he is.

You tuck your head into his neck, nuzzling at the warm spot you love so much. "She loves you so much and so do I. You're the best thing that could have ever happened to us, Lando Norris."

Lando chuckles. "I think it's the opposite way around, my love. You two are the best thing that could have ever happened to me."

"DAAAAAAD" From the end of the hall, Stella's little voice calls out and you both can't help the laugh that pulls you apart. "I'm waaaaaaiting!!! Stop kissing Momma and come read to me!" She demands.

"The Princess awaits." Lando mutters before giving you one last peck on the cheek and turning away to walk down the hall towards Stella's room.

Over an hour later and you're 2 glasses of wine deeper than you were when Lando left you, still sitting alone on the couch. You're beginning to think he's fallen asleep putting Stella to bed only because you've done the same thing countless amounts of times over the years when you hear the door to her room whisper open.

"You were in there a long time." You murmur as Lando sits down on the couch before he pulls you into his lap. You set the wine glass down on the side table next to you so you can wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

"Stella and I had some things to discuss." He says lightly.

Lando's body relaxes as he tucks his head into your neck. If there's one thing you adore about your boyfriend you'll adore until the ends of time it's how affectionate he is. He's always touching you when you're near and he never gives half-hearted hugs, they're something he pours his full body into. The same goes with cuddling, it's never halfway with Lando when it comes to physical affection and you simply cannot ever get enough.

"Oh?" You laugh, grinning at him. "And what are you two plotting now?"

Lando shifts, glancing away as if he's nervous to answer your question. "Stella calling me dad just had me thinking about things..."

You lift an eyebrow. "Things?"

"Yeah" Lando nods. He takes a deep breath and pulls you closer into his chest. "I just got to thinking and maybe it’s time we make things official."

"What are you talking about?" Confusion has you pulling away from him so you can look at him. There's a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth and you have to resist the urge to kiss him, despite the fact that you are fully lost as to what he's talking about. "You’ve been calling me your girlfriend for months now?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, I mean official official. With this." Lando lifts his hips off the couch and pulls out a black velvet box from his pocket. For the second time that night, your heart stalls in your chest, world tilting a bit on its axis.

"Lan." You whisper before sucking in a breath as he opens the top of the ring box. Nestled in the black velvet sits the most gorgeous ring you'd ever laid eyes on. It's simple and perfect and something you would have picked out on your own had you been let loose in a jewelry store.

"Marry me, baby." Lando's voice is thick, anxiety and nerves evident in every syllable that comes out of his mouth. "I never want to go back to a world where you and Stella aren't in my life. Stella sees me as her dad, I hope you can see me as your husband and father of the rest of our babies one day. I love you so much l. Spend the rest of your life with me?

It's a wonder the sound of your heart clattering against your ribcage doesn't wake Stella up it's so loud. Blood rushes past your ears so loudly, the sounds of the house are muffled for a moment and all you can do is stare at Lando. He doesn't move, a look of anxiety and love and hundreds of other emotions sitting so plainly on his face you can barely form a thought.

"Of course. Oh my god. Of course." Your right hand finds his cheek and you frame his face with your hand as he takes your left hand before slipping the ring on your finger. A perfect fit.

"Yeah?" A wash of relief crashes over Lando because for a moment he thought you were about to reject him.

When he had finished reading a chapter of Stella's book to her, he had as casually as he could brought up the idea of them being a family for real next year. Stella had been a bit confused, asking him if the weren't already a real family but Lando had quickly explained he meant he wanted to marry you but only if Stella thought that was a good idea because she was part of their family too and what she thought mattered to him just as much as what you thought.

You nod, laughing through your tears before crashing your lips to his in a heated kiss. "Yeah." You mutter against his mouth.

"I was going to do this tomorrow morning" Lando pulls away, glancing down at your hand that's still captured between his. "But it just felt right tonight. Stella was so excited, she started asking what kind of dress she’d get to wear at the wedding."

"Oh Lando." You coo before you allow him to lay you down on the couch, kissing you as he goes.

yourusername (private) posted

123 likes liked by BFFSarah, CarlosSainz, yourdad, and others yourusername mrs. norris has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? 😘 BFFSarah OH. MY. GOD. I'm sobbing. Bestie. I love you. I love him. I love Stella. I'm so happy for you!!! >>>yourusername ❤️❤️❤️ thank you babes >>>BFFSarah sorry, back again to tell you holy SHIT that ring!! @/landonorris you did good!! >>>landonorris why thank you! ☺️

landonorris posted

1,098,874 likes liked by yourusername, mclaren, zakbrownceo, and others landonorris santa can't compete with my present this year zakbrownceo congratulations to both of you!!! we'll have to throw a little party when you're back in the new year! >>>yourusername thanks zak!! you are too good to us! user009 the gold digger got what she wanted...how long til she's knocked up with baby number 2? gotta get that bag somehow... >>>user221 seriously. bro fell for the oldest trick in the book. fucking gross. >>>user223 hey so this is a fucking WILD thing to say about someone you don't even know so publicly. JESUS. user928 OH MY GOD THEY'RE ENGAGED user230 we're going to get dad lando content FOREVER >>>user929 the way i live for stella/lando content and now we get even MORE??? Yes please!!!

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[airybcby]

If I Could Never Give You Peace

( bllk boys when your secret relationship is leaked by paparazzi)

a/n — wrote this on a whim after listening to peace by taylor swift

content — some nsfw but not explicit, fem! reader, cursing , all characters are 18 or 18+, slight ooc maybe?, some characters are repeated

synopsis — what happens when your relationship is leaked?

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' everyone thought you'd broken up '

listen, you knew dating a good soccer player in high school was a big deal, but you didn't realize how big of a deal it really was when he went pro.

this was the same boy ( now man) that you'd been dating since you were 14, so nothing really changed your views on him. if you could love him through his awkward phase, and he could love you through yours, there was no way you'd break up.

again, you didn't realize that your relationship was such a big deal. it wasn't that the two of you were a secret, it was more of a 'private not secret' situation.

so when the two of you woke up in your shared bed because of just how many notifications the both of you were getting, you knew something was up.

and low and behold, something was wrong. when you opened any social media the first thing you saw was a strangely amazing photo of you and your long-term boyfriend kissing. really, if it wasn't a paparazzi photo, it would be your lock screen.

"aren't we just the cutest?" he asked you, phone thrown back onto his bedside table as if he didn't have a care in the world. (and he really didn't, not in this case)

truly, the only thing that may make him angry in this whole situation is the fact that he got woken up far earlier than his usual routine by all the commotion.

but of course, as he was dozing back off, you were reading the comments, as any loyal significant other would.

soccerluvr45: omg is that is gf from high school? i thought they broke up

okay, yeah. he had a rather public instagram account in high school that his rabid fans had found that had pictures of the two of you, but you'd never broken up?

reading through the many comments, it was like everyone had collectively decided the two of you'd broken up.

"mhm...just ignore it. the pr lady will deal with it." he mumbled as he grabbed your phone from your hands, laying it beside his before wrapping his arms around you.

"go to bed, 's too early to deal with all this."

his fans were silly, if they could see you with this bed-head man right now, they'd see there was no way the two of you would ever break up.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, yo hiori, NIJIRO NANASE, hyoma chigiri

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' pr nightmare '

anyone who knew your boyfriend knew he was...a little extreme.

and unfortunately for you, this also applied when your relationship became public because of a slight slip of focus from the two of you. it wasn't that you were trying to keep your relationship a secret, you'd already been together a year now, but you also weren't trying to out yourselves.

yet, one singular minute when the two of you slipped away to the bathroom together at a soccer banquet...well lets just say a paparazzi was scarily ready to snap someone, anyone's, photo.

so here you were, sitting in a terrifyingly big office with your boyfriend and almost his entire management team.

"do you know what this could do to your reputation?" his manager asked. "it's just two adults doing adult things, they should've been in that bathroom! that would've gotten them—"

"okay, sir..."the pr woman cut him off, ever too enthusiastic to be talking about your private lives.

"you just need to ignore all of this until it goes away, alright? no press interviews after games anymore," she sighed as if this was basic comprehension. (your boyfriend wasn't the smartest but he also didn't need to be treated like an idiot.) "and no posting on any social medias for the time being. do you understand?"

"yeah, yeah. no talking to the grown men after games. and..."he grimaced at the thought of his next condition. " c'mon is posting on my socials that bad? i don't post about us anyways."

"at. all." and the room felt as icy as the pr woman's stare.

"yeah, no, okay i got it. no social media."

after another thirty minutes of this, with them saying basically the same stuff to you (even though you had no real social media presence anyways), you guys finally left.

"no fucking posting? what if i have to talk about a game coming up?" "i'm sure she knows how to do her job, love." you soothed your boyfriend as you got in the car the company arranged to have you two taken up with.

"yeah, well whatever. give me your hand," and who were you to say no to your boyfriend?

he took your hand and placed it on his neck, a place where you could see a few bites and hickeys if you really looked hard enough.

before you could protest he took a picture, posting it on his VERY public account with the caption...

' i love my woman ;) '

before turning off his phone completely.

"let's see them try to get ahold of me now."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RYUSEI SHIDO, tabito karasu, EITA OTOYA, oliver aiku

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' what picture ? '

how do two chronically offline people realize their relationship is now under scrutiny by the entire world?

the simple answer is...they don't!

you've never been interested in social media the way other girls your age had been. really, you'd rather just watch a video essay on every little topic that interests you than sit and watch six second videos then scroll all day.

to say the least, fast and forever changing social media just wasn't your thing.

and your boyfriend? he hardly even used his phone. unless it was for business or you, the thing was practically shoved away somewhere he couldn't care less about.

he would rather be reading or spending time with you out on a date...which is exactly the predicament the paparazzi put you in earlier this week.

the two of you were photographed having a little picnic and reading date at a small park that was pretty far out of town, assuming no one there knew, or even cared, enough to take a picture, but alas, someone did.

you and he had spent the rest of your week in pure, relaxed bliss. he had a game on saturday, so besides him going to practice and working out, the two of you stayed inside almost all week to prepare for the rather hectic weekend.

to say the game was a nail biter would be the understatement of the century. after two additional times, it was your boyfriend who scored the winning goal.

of course, you cheered the loudest, not noticing plenty of fans eyes on you unlike how many used to just chalk you up as an ecstatic fan.

as the post game interview came for him, you decided to stay closer to the door just incase it ran short. sometimes it was a one and done for him and others the questions went on for at least fifteen minutes, it just depended on his mood.

of course, the first question was about his game winning goal, but the second one threw him and you for a loop.

" what do you have to say about the photos of you and your reported girlfriend that have come out this past week? "

"...huh? what photos?"

eventually, the two of you did see the pictures, and all you could do was laugh because...how had you two not found out about this?

and you also made the picture your phone lock screen, but he didn't have to know that.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ RIN ITOSHI, reo mikage, SAE ITOSHI, chigiri hyoma

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

[ + your faves ! ]

i wrote this in about an hour, and i think it shows but i had to get it out of my brain :))

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[acourtofchaos]

YOU CAN HOLD MY HAND IF NO ONE'S HOME | Sirius Black x F!Reader

Summary: When you aren't as good at hiding your relationship as you both think you are. [Fluff. 3.6K]

Warnings: Hidden relationship, very soft sirius, a little suggestive, typical mischief from the other boys

A/N: This is a re-write of a fic I wrote years ago for a character I no longer write for and I thought it'd be cute to turn it into a Marauders fic instead of getting rid of it :)

You woke to warmth.

To streaks of golden morning light that spilled from the windows and left glowing lines across bare legs that were hopelessly tangled with anothers.

There were soft puffs of breath stirring your hair at the crown and the faint smell of smoke and spice tickling your nose with every slow inhale you took in sync with the rising chest you found yourself buried against.

Your face pressed so deeply into the column of his throat that your lashes brushed the skin there when your eyes finally fluttered open.

And yet he tried to pull you even closer when you yawned and pressed your hands to his stomach in an attempt to shuffle yourself back, strong arms winding tight around your waist and the soft scrape of barely-there stubble over your forehead as he dipped his chin and planted a lazy kiss there.

“Don’t go yet.” He rasped, voice low, sleep-thick. "Want to hold you a bit longer before you go rushing off.”

You melted a little at that, your own apologetic kiss laid to the hollow of his throat before you pulled back to meet his sleep-warmed gaze.

Fingers stroking through the mess of his hair like you could soothe away the discontent that grew in both of you when you thought about having to leave his arms, his flat, pretending all the while that you hadn’t created a home for yourself in both.

Because that’s how things were between you and Sirius - how they had to be when this thing between you was a secret kept from the other three most important parts of your lives.

You’d decided together that they couldn’t know yet - Remus, Peter and James.

It was just still so new.

There would be too much pressure.

James and Remus were protective to an almost alarming fault and Peter would probably have a quiet panic attack over the possibility everything could go wrong. The boy who despised even the slightest arguments amongst his friends, fretting himself into an early grave at the thought of being forced to choose a side should it all fall apart.

It made sense to keep things between them until things felt more solid, less fragile than this sweet, tender thing you both held in your hands right now.

There was just times, this moment being one of them, where you wanted nothing more than to say fuck it and let them find out if it meant you could stay in Sirius’ arms that little bit longer.

And he was clearly thinking the same.

For when you stretched and tried to roll to the side, he followed. Catching the hand that had been reaching for your phone before luring it back and pressing it into the mattress whilst he rose above you.

“Where do you think you’re going, love?” He grinned, a little drunk with pride when you shivered lightly before throwing him a rather adorably unconvincing glare.

“We’re supposed to be meeting the others for breakfast and I still need to go home and change.” You huffed lightly, arching a challenging brow when he made no move to let you go. “Unless you want them asking why I’m in the same clothes I wore to the pub last night.”

Your words made his eyes spark, his voice turning silken as he leaned down, lips purposely avoiding your own and trailing tantalisingly slow over the line of your jaw.

“And if they did? What would you tell them, hmm?” He taunted, murmuring. “Would you make up some flimsy excuse like you did last night - let them keep thinking that you're so innocent and sweet, that you don't lie about headaches just so I can get you home and devour you sooner.”

“Are you forgetting we all grew up together?” You laughed breathlessly, loud in the otherwise silence of the room before it caught in your throat as Sirius nipped at your ear. “They already know I’m hardly what you call innocent.”

“Not like I do.”

You groaned when his teeth found your shoulder as he pulled at the collar of your t-shirt, sinking down until you arched like a bow against him before sweeping his tongue across the newly made mark.

You were clinging to him now, fingers buried into the warm skin of his ribs and every thought about getting up and leaving began to drift away like smoke in the wind when he raised his chin, smile sinful, teasing, to watch you as he rolled his hips into yours.

“Jesus, Sirius.” You breathed, an unbidden plea, and he sank down into you to kiss you then. All slow, soft heat as he indulged you, arms caging you in, gentle hands cupping your cheeks.

It made your blood catch light and your heart ache, your head dizzy with each brush of his tongue against yours whilst your skin grew warm and tingly from his body pressed flush against you - the sunlight that poured over you both when the sheets slipped away as you wove your legs around his waist.

A quiet moan slipped from you when he sucked at the pillow of your bottom lip and there was almost another as he drew back to look at you - all darkened eyes, ruffled hair and kiss-bruised lips.

“You make the prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, voice a little awed whilst his thumb scraped over the arc of your cheekbone.

You grinned, something sweet and golden blooming beneath your ribs that made you glow from the inside, the air feeling warmer as you turned your head to mouth a tender kiss to his wrist. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He murmured, dropping his head to nudge his nose against yours when your gaze was back on him once again. “Everything about you is so ridiculously pretty, you’re killing me expecting me to just let you leave when you look like that.”

His hand found the edge of your shirt, fingers toying with a hole in the worn fabric before they slipped under to splay across the smooth skin of your belly, his thumb stroking small circles that dipped teasingly beneath the waistband of your underwear.

He watched as your breath hitched, as you shifted beneath him like you were trying to to push further into the press of his hand and then he suddenly leaned back. Eyes twinkling and lips parted before they quirked into a smug grin.

“Speaking of which - isn’t this my shirt?”

Shit.

You'd hoped he wouldn't realise that you'd snatched up one of his when redressing last night. Choosing to forgo your own that was nestled among a few other things of yours in the draw he'd cleared out for you.

There was something about being wrapped up in a shirt that smelled like him, that you swore still managed to hold the heat from his skin despite however long had passed since he wore it.

It felt like safety and comfort.

It felt more like home than any of the dozen places you had given such a title to over the years. And you craved it.

You thought Sirius understood. That he saw it in your face and the flash of nerves in your eyes that stealing his clothes was a step too far too soon, because even when you shrugged, when you tried your best to sound casual and lie that you couldn't find your own, his smile only got wider. Sweeter.

There was a new warmth in his eyes as he tugged at the hem again.

"Yeah?" He asked, grinning brighter than any star in the sky. "Well fuck, gorgeous, maybe I should start hiding all your clothes if it means getting to see you in mine. Looks so much better on you."

A bubble of laughter rose from your chest - bright and airy with relief and something impossibly tender for the boy above you. You wanted to draw him down, kiss him until you were both breathless and drunk from it and feel him press so deeply into you that it would be impossible to tell where one you ended and the other began.

You would have done it if it wasn’t for the sharp ring of a message alert sounding from your phone, the shrill of it puncturing the sticky-sweet haze you’d both slipped into making you flinch.

There was a pout on Sirius’ lips when you nudged at him, your hand a firm and constant obstacle when he still tried to chase your mouth with his own before giving up and falling back into the sheets with a dramatic huff. Hiding his smile with mock offence at the sound of your chuckle.

You bit your lip as you raised yourself up on your elbows and looked at him.

The lazy way he draped himself back, all smooth, tattoo-littered skin against black cotton sheets, grey sweats slung low on his hips and his hair wild from where your fingers had tangled desperately within it. He caught you staring and his lips spread into another shit-eating grin, his tone full of taunt when he winked at you. “You gonna get that or just keep staring at me like you want to fu–”

He spluttered when the pillow crashed into his face, choked laughter erupting from his throat whilst you huffed and rolled your eyes before snatching the phone from the bedside table.

And then they went wide.

Panic flooding through your gut as you attempted to fling yourself to your feet only to get your foot caught in the sheets, flail, and nearly end up in a heap on the floor.

You caught yourself at the last minute, a hand thrown to the wall when you stumbled before searching the room for your jeans.

“James and Remus are on their way here. Right now.” You told a confused looking Sirius, whose gaze swiftly changed from concerned to a disappointed understanding, his body frozen right where he’d frantically risen, arms open and outstretched to catch you if you had fallen. “They asked if I’m nearly at the cafe because they’re on their way but stopping to pick you up first?”

“Shit, yeah, I completely forgot.” He muttered, passing a weary hand over his face before he slipped from the bed after you and in search of a shirt for himself. “They offered because my bike is still in the garage.”

You nodded absentmindedly, eyes still darting along the floor before you spied your jeans partially hidden beneath Sirius’ clothes from the night before, all pooled together from where you’d tumbled into his room, mouths desperate on the others and hands a little too greedy to feel skin to take notice or even care where the things you were wearing landed.

He snorted at the way you lunged for them, the little cry of aha! when you lifted them triumphantly before bending to shove your legs inside them. “I’m just gonna have to go like this.” You huffed and Sirius had to bite down a wild groan when you straightened.

Between your sleep-roughened hair and kiss-swollen lips, the tight jeans and his shirt that, when the collar shifted ever so slightly, showed a brief glimpse of the pretty marks he’d left on your skin. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make it through this breakfast with his sanity intact. “...let's just hope they don’t recognise the shirt.”

He swallowed hard, shook his head in a daze both in an attempt to reassure you and to rid himself of the feverish need that was rapidly bleeding through his veins once more. “They won’t, it’s not one I ever wore that much.”

And yeah, maybe that was a lie.

But he didn’t want to mention that it had once been one of his favourites and have you decide that wearing it wasn’t worth the risk.

Not when the sight of you in it had something akin to possessive wonder coiling in his chest every time he looked at you, infusing his bones and making his heart swell with it. Racing to an impossible rhythm, a delirious beat of mine, mine, mine.

There was another chirp from your phone and you quickly glanced at it whilst Sirius distractedly rummaged through his drawers, cursing as you located your shoes and yanked them on before reaching for him. “I have to go.” You rushed out, fingers curling around the nape of his neck to drag him into a too brief kiss, his lips only just beginning to part over yours when you pulled back and tried to dash towards his bedroom door.

Only, before you could take another step his hand found itself wrapped around your wrist and then he was tugging sharply, reeling you back into his arms so his mouth could descend upon yours once again - hot and messy. More than a little starved for the taste of you.

And despite yourself you melted, humming happily before you felt him smile against you and the corners of your lips tugged up into one to match. “Sirius, I’ve got to go.”

You laughed when his hand curled around your hip to pull you closer. His voice muffled but no less cheeky when he countered. “Just getting it out of my system before I have to endure the torture of being surrounded by our friends whilst pretending that I don’t want to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you whilst you're wearing my shirt.”

Your thighs clenched together at that, cheeks warming as you imagined it. Without meaning to your fingers tightened their grip in his hair, the hand that had rested over his heart curling until your nails bit into his skin and you had to catch yourself as your hips subconsciously rocked against him.

It made him grin like a devil, even more so when you swore, his eyes gleaming with heat, mischief when you flexed your hand straight and pushed yourself away from him.

He let you go without a fight to finally pull his shirt on and chuckled, low and rough, when your narrowed eyes tracked over the tempting fit of it before flicking back to his. “You’re an absolute menace, Black”

“Only for you, doll.”

You snorted at that and turned, still grinning like an idiot when you swung his door open before you screamed in shock. Your hand flying to your chest to cover the place where your heart slammed frantic against your ribs.

Sirius was by your side in an instant, his body surging past yours in a blur to place you behind him, expression hard and dangerous before it morphed into stunned surprise. His brow furrowing and mouth dropping open.

Because at his breakfast table sat James and Peter. Both of them never looking more delighted with themselves than they did in that moment with laughter in their eyes and bright ‘gotcha’ smiles spread wide across their handsome faces.

Remus was busying himself with pulling groceries out of a bag but you caught the way he glanced between both yours and Sirius’ disbelieving expressions before hiding his face, grin soft and his shoulders shaking.

There was a moment of silence where all of you just stared at each other and then both you and Sirius spoke at the same time.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Did you seriously just let yourselves into my flat and sit waiting for us to come out?”

It was James that answered.

Like he’d been bursting with impatience for one of you to ask just so he could, his fingers tapping impatiently against the solid wood of the table before he pointed to you.

“What’s going on is that you’ve been lying to us and now you’ve been caught red handed.” He smirked, entirely too amused by the way you couldn’t even hide your guilty expression before he turned to Sirius and shrugged. “And you gave us each a key.”

Sirius scoffed at that, snarking. “Yeah, for emergencies, Prongs, not to be cr–”

“So you don’t want coffee then.” Remus interrupted mildy, lifting one of the steaming cups from beside him without looking up from where he was setting things up for your apparent breakfast. A spread of pastries and fruits, jams, fresh bread, bacon and eggs and sausages all lined up for him to cook whilst you slowly processed what you had just walked out to.

And just like that Sirius lost some of his guarded edge. He still watched them all and then you with calculating eyes, assessing the situation, looking for hints of discomfort before he softened completely and trudged forward to take the drink, then a second, from Remus whilst you sank into the chair besides Peter.

You expected it to feel awkward but it wasn’t.

There was no anger or accusation from the boys, only curiosity and something soft like joy when they observed the way Sirius drew immediately back to you, one hand placing your drink in front of you and the other resting gently at the back of your neck to let you know he was there.

They hadn’t done this with any other intent but to let you know that everything was fine. That you didn’t have to worry about things changing or them thinking any different of either of you because they would always be happy with whatever you decided as long as it was what made you happy.

And with that knowledge you fully relaxed, easing back into Sirius’ touch. You took a deep breath and inhaled the smell of the coffee, the bacon that hissed and smoked when Remus placed it in the pan and after a large gulp of your drink you turned to the curly haired boy across from you and nudged his leg with your toe. Smiling when his lips quirked and he nudged you back.

“Go on then.” You sighed with a grin, “Where did we mess up - what gave us away?”

James laughed, his features boyish and light with it. “Take a wild guess.” He joked and when you didn’t answer, blinking at him in confusion, he looked at you for a beat, then two, and then at his friend on the other side of the table, shaking his head with amusement. “I told you it looked like they hadn’t even realised what they’d done.”

You glanced at Sirius who looked just as clueless as you, racking your brain for such a memory and coming up with nothing.

“You kissed right in front of us.” Peter finally explained with a quiet chuckle. “Well, it was at the bar - which we had a pretty good view of.”

It hit you then. A little soft and fuzzy around the edges but you could remember Sirius’ hand resting on your hip, the way he'd tucked you tighter against him to avoid getting jostled at the busy bar and it had been second nature. A reflex almost.

You had looked up at him with a sweet smile and the moment you had tilted your chin he hadn’t even thought to deny you, pressing a warm kiss to your lips and then another to your forehead that had made your heart flutter.

You opened your mouth and then shut it again, pressed your palm to your lips to smother the laughter that bubbled up - bright and delirious.

You had both thought you had been so subtle only to discover you couldn’t have been more hopeless at hiding your relationship if you had tried. There was a twinkle in Sirius’ eyes when you turned again to find him watching you, an undisguisable fondness when you reached out and gently punched his arm.

“This is your fault.” You accused, teasing. “You kissed me.”

“And you didn’t stop me.” He winked, far too pleased at the fact to even consider defending his lack of restraint when it came to you.

Before you could argue there was a snort from the other side of you and you twisted to catch James rolling his eyes, an indulgent grin on his face even as he complained. All faux wretchedness and almost enough drama to rival Sirius. “Good god, I don’t think I can handle you both suddenly being this lovey dovey. I think I preferred being in the dark about this.”

It made you laugh when Peter responded before you were able, an immediate quip that had the brunette blushing wildly when he mentioned how he’d rather see this than what he used to innocently walk into in the dorms whenever James had Lily over.

There was warmth in your chest - a champagne fizz type of happiness - when it turned into a competition of swapping embarrasing stories and the room filled with bickering voices and radiant bursts of laughter, when Sirius drew his chair closer and tugged you into his side, fingers drawing lovely, sweeping patterns on your shoulder whilst his voice joined the chaos.

You beamed at Remus, who appeared at your side to place a plate of food in front of you, a little mix of everything that you liked that immediately had your stomach growling.

He returned your smile immediately, eyes crinkling with affection when you thanked him, before he ruffled your hair like he had ever since he had taken you under his wing the first time you met so many years ago.

Forever the protective older brother that somehow turned into a scolding mother the second Sirius dared to reach over with the intent of snatching a piece of bacon off your plate.

There was a flash of metal, a string of colourful curses from your boyfriend when the handle of the fork Remus had been about to pass you rapped across the knuckles of the offending hand.

“Hands off, Pads, you bloody animal. Didn’t you ever learn manners, jesus."

“Me? What about you? You break into my house, hijack my kitchen, and then try to nearly crack a bone over a slice of bacon. Where are your fucking manners, Moony?”

You zoned out the bickering in favour of tearing a chunk of still warm pastry and popping it in your mouth, startled when James’ foot gently kicked yours beneath the table.

His eyes were bright and full of mischief behind his glasses when you frowned at him and you nearly choked when he pointed the coffee-foam covered end of his wooden stirrer at your chest.

"So considering you were still trying to keep it a secret before we surprised you, how did you plan on explaining the shirt?” He crowed. “Because I could swear Pads has one just like it.”

****

© acourtofchaos 2025. i do not give permission for my works to be translated, reposted or fed to any ai program. all works belong to me and should not be claimed as your own.

[justwonder113]

Han drunkenly confessing to you

Inspired by this ask

Summary: When Chan calls you at 2 am to pick up drunk han because he is asking for you the last thing you expect is for Han to confess his love for you. warnings: CHAOS! Idiots to lovers, (Both reader and Han(mostly Han) are idiots.) Reader is gender neutral. Cursing to no one's surprise. Kissing. Han being somewhat drunk. Teensy tiny amount of angst. Reader almost having a mental breakdown from all the chaos. Somewhat proofread. let me know if I missed anything A/N- Happy new year lovelies! I wish you all the best! Please take care of yourselves and drink lot's of water. Thank you all for all the love and support you have given me, it really means a lot to me. Word count- 2.4 k

Masterlist

If you like my work you can buy me coffee🩷

You know how people put most bizarre things in their resumes? Like stuff they only did once and they wrote it down like they had some kind of PhD in that field? Well next time you if you decided to change jobs or just apply to a new one you would write down that you had an experience and could deal with being friends with Han Fucking Jisung! That is if he survived this day. Because what do you mean you were heading out to get his drunk ass home because this grown ass man was actually crying and asking for you in the damn club at two fucking am! You were so beating his ass once he got sober.

You were seeing such a great dream too. You and Han were actually together and didn’t have this weird ass relationship you two had right now where there were no literal boundaries and you didn’t have to question every day If he was returning the feelings or if you were delusional and he was just extra friendly and overall simply comfortable with you. He was quite touchy and flirty with boys too after all. So you could imagine how much headache this could bring in.

 Anyway, to stop with your let’s just say unfortunate love life and get to the point you were pissed. You really were looking forward after a shitty week sleeping in and actually resting. That’s why you didn’t go to the club with the boys in the first place. How much did he actually drink to be actually crying and asking for you? What was he, a toddler asking for his mommy? Or better yet what was up with you being actually in love with this man?

The club was quite crowded for 2 am. The neon lights of reds blues and greens kept flashing rhythmically. The shouts of laughter and the hum of conversation mixed with the music creating a bit of chaos but well it was a normal atmosphere for a club. As soon as you walked in the smell of cocktails mixed with perfume and sweat of the crowd immediately hit you. It was a bit headache inducing but it was tolerable, as long as you left soon. You started searching for your friends with your eyes which was quite hard at first the crowd really kept shifting and mingling with each other. People really looked like they were having time of their life and you, with the, I just woke up and I’m mad as hell face, surely sticked out like a sore thumb.

Thankfully you found the boys quickly. It wasn’t hard giving they were loudest in the whole establishment as always. They were by the entrance and thankfully everyone looking ready to leave.

As for the man child who was the main reason you were here in the first place, he was clinging to Minho yapping about something. He wasn’t crying now but his eyes really looked puffy and red. Honestly how much did he drink? Others looked normal. Well tired like they were already hungover but still normal. Minho really looked like he was seconds away from smacking him. Yes smacking him, he even managed to rile Minho up. God, what a lightweight.

Han must have noticed you because one second you were looking at his face light up and him call you baby on top of his lungs and the next second he was basically on top of you. He literally hugged you witch such force it was a miracle you were standing on your feet and didn’t fall over.

“Han be careful!” You hear Chan warn him, he sounded tired.

“I’m fine.” You mustered to croak out once Han let go a bit to check if you were fine, he still returned to hugging you but at least you could breathe now. He really must have missed you. God you really wanted to kiss him. All your anger and grumpiness immediately flew out the window. Good for him he was so cute or else you would have smacked his head for bringing you here. “How are you Hannie? A little birdie told me you were asking for me.”

Han looked at you with his wide boba eyes, his lips jutted out in the cutest pout ever. “Better now that you’re here. They are literally so mean baby, I’m glad you’re here. You’re my favorite.”- Han whined out and hugged you again. You looked at others who looked so done, only Minho looked bemused, he held his phone up and recorded Han whine to you. You looked at him with raised eyebrow as you patted Han’s back to calm him down.

Minho only shrugged, “I’m showing this to him when he asks me for something. You’re in charge now since you’re his favorite.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Babe we both know that your softie ass is immediately going to cave in and do what he wants anyway.”

Minho glared at you, unamused by your comment but you didn’t really pay any mind to it, you had your attention to Han who stopped hugging you and went to Felix instead. He looked like he was about to start crying again any second now.

“Hannie baby what’s wrong?”

“You hate me!” His bold statement was followed by the most dramatic sob and collective sighs of being done from his friends.

“Why would you think that?” You were genuinely so confused. You had no idea what you did wrong.

Han glared at you for a second and returned to hugging Felix who was barely holding his laughter in. Not much to your surprise he quickly gave in. “You called Minho babe. You’re basically replacing me, you really must hate me.”

What now? You couldn’t help but blink in confusion because what the fuck was up with that logic. You really looked at him with a deadpan expression before the realization of what he said really dawned on you.

You tried, you really tried to hold your face together and not just burst out laughing, but you’re only just a human after all.

With the most teasing voice and biggest smile ever you used the chance to tease him, because let’s be real, pouty and sulky Han is the cutest Han. “Are you jealous baby?”

Han gasped and let go of Felix, he actually looked at you like he was mad now. Mad and maybe seconds away from crying which harshly puled on your heartstrings.

“I am! I’ve been in love with you for years and you’re calling Minho babe here!” He yelled and stormed off outside the club leaving you there shocked not knowing what to do. The boys also looked like they didn’t know what to do, only Minho was laughing his ass off and Hyunjin also looked like he was barely holding in his laughter in.

So he was jealous.

Oh.

Oh.

He said he loved you.

Han Jisung said he loved you.

The Han Jisung loved you.

He returned your feelings.

The boy you had been in love with for ages loved you back.

“HAN JISUNG GET YOUR ASS HERE!” You yelled as you chased after him. All seven of the boys cheering after you and encouraging you to get him. You would get to them later.

Thankfully he hadn’t gotten far, it might have taken you a second or two to let everything sink in. Han was closeby sitting on the sidewalk, pretty tears running down his rosy cheeks, what a silly boy, he even forgot to bring his jacket. You sat close to him thinking for a second of what to say to him, while also trying to warm him with your body head. He looked cold.

“If you want to tease me please go inside. I already feel like shit.” His voice was so raw and he looked so pained. It really hurt to see him like this. He sighed. “I need a minute okay? I will be fine I’m not that drunk anymore.” He took a pause. “I mean how can I be after the shit I said, God I am stupid!” You watched a tear run down his face. Before you could even realize what you were doing you reached and gently brushed away the tear. Han looked at you with tearful eyes.

“Maybe but who am I to judge? I mean, I didn’t even realize that my best friend, the man I had been in love with for god knows how long actually returns my feelings.”

God you said it. You actually admitted your feelings.

A pause.

Oh no, was he regretting it?

Was it something he just said because he was drunk?

You were startled out of your thoughts when Han literally slapped both of his cheeks. His skin immediately flushed angry red.

“What the fuck are they putting in these drinks? Actually making me hallucinate and shit.” Was he for real? You couldn’t hold yourself back so you smacked his arm.

Ignoring his whining you quickly got up and started to yell. “Han Jisung I did not just say I’m in love with you for you to think this is some kind of fucking hallucination! Do you know how much courage it takes to actually admit your feelings?” Han looked at you with wide eyes for a second then quickly got up too almost losing his balance for a second.

“Wait are you for real? You love me? You mean it?” - He asked with trembling voice.

You couldn’t believe your ears. “Of course I mean it? How can I joke about something like that?”

A second passed then two.

“Dude are you kidding me? How are you in love with me. Do you have no standards? You’re like a fucking deity, someone people should fucking worship the fuck you mean you love me? Raise your standards!”

God you needed to be paid for this shit but no amount would be enough. This whole situation made you want to pull your hair out one by one, or maybe scream on top of your lungs, or maybe actually hit him because what the fuck was this?

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” You actually couldn’t help but yell, you didn’t give a crap that you were in the middle of street and it was 2 am and maybe some people were actually asleep.

“NO?”

“I WILL ACTUALLY BEAT YOUR ASS!” You took a deep breath. You reminded yourself that he was somewhat drunk. You needed to stay calm for your own sanity at least. “Han when people tell you that they love you back you at least should be grateful that they return your feelings. The last thing you want to do is to tell them to raise their standards. Because frankly all I wanted to kiss you but now all I’m thinking about is how to hold back and not to beat your ass! You’re literally perfect what the fuck are you on about?”

You watched as the biggest grin appeared on his face. It was like his whole mood shifted. “You want to kiss me?” Okay you really wanted to hit your head against a wall now.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of this whole situation. “Do you only hear what you want to hear?”

Jisung, still grinning got closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Maybe.” -he mused. “All I heard is that you want to kiss me. And I have wanted to know what it is like to kiss you since I met you. You don’t know how irresistible you are.” His voice was so sweet and tender your heart was going crazy. And it didn’t help when he leaned in and put his forehead against yours.

“I could say the same to you dumbass.” You sighed against his lips. When did he even get so close?

“Can I kiss you?” Han asked as his gaze kept shifting from your lips to your eyes.

Feeling impatient to actually answer you grabbed him by his cheeks and finally connected your lips.

Kissing him was so much better than you could have thought. His lips were cold and chapped but they felt so nice as they moved against yours. You couldn’t help but sigh in pleasure. You didn’t know who deepened the kiss but soon your tongue met his and you almost melted. He tasted so sweet. You could even taste fruity cocktails he must have had earlier on his lips. But there was something more, something purely just Han, which made you fall in love with him even deeper if it was possible. You could already feel yourself getting addicted to kissing him.

Soon you had to lean back for some air, seeing Han whine and actually chase after your lips made you smile, your heart feeling whole. You didn’t even remember why you were mad earlier. You just gazed at him lovingly his arms tight around you as your hands were still on his cheeks. His cheeks felt so warm against your cold hands, it must’ve still stung from his slap. You tried to soothe it as you gently caressed his skin. Loving how he leaned into the touch. Shaking your head a bit. Not in a million years could you imagine something like this could happen to you. Life sure is full of mysteries.

You two were brought back to reality by cheers and hollers of your forgotten friends. Oops? You immediately covered your face leaning into the hug more to hide, unable to look any of them in the eyes, feeling beyond embarrassed. Han chuckled and hugged you closer.

“This had to be one of the most painful confessions I have ever seen.” Seungmin deadpanned as others kept clapping and cheering for you.

“Like you had seen a lot of them.” Minho quipped back quickly.

“At least they finally got it over with.” Hyunjin chipped in.

“Tell me about it, it was painful to watch them.” Now it was Innie’s time to say something. Did they all have to say something?

“Oh by the way I recorded all of this, I’m playing this at your wedding.” Felix waved his phone.

Chan grinned. “Or we can show it to their children in the future.” He teased as Changbin cackled like a possessed witch.

God you were so done with these clowns.

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[makethatelevenrings]

Lose Control // J. Abbot x gn!reader

*shuffles in and deposits this before sprinting away*

I spent three days trying to write out a huge fic with lots of plot but my brain kept giving up and then I could only fixate on the idea of Jack suffering from phantom limb pain so I wrote this piece of shit that can hardly be called writing and now I'm going to throw it on your dashes and go back to watching Bravo.

and if anyone gets the nickname joke, congrats. ur in my mind.

tw: mention of blood, Jack has a PTSD episode and phantom limb pain, mentions of you (reader) nearly dying in the past

It’s noon when you’re woken up by a crash.

Instinctively, your hand stretched out to find the space beside you empty. The sheets are still warm, so he must have only got up to go to the bathroom. You were about to roll over and fall back asleep when a muttered curse echoed from the bathroom.

“Bugs?”

“I’m fine,” came Jack’s reply. “Go back to sleep.”

Something fell over in the bathroom and you decided to ignore his suggestion and instead, rolled out of bed. The second your feet hit the ground, the bathroom door flung open. Jack stood in the dim light of the bathroom and your heart nearly stopped at the sight of the blood all over his hand.

“Don’t,” he ordered. “There’s glass.”

You took a step forward, your hands outstretched to reach for him to check his injury, but he drew away from you. It was then that you noticed the way his chest heaved with every breath and his eyes were darting around rapidly, as if searching for something in the room behind you. Peeking behind him, you saw what glass he was talking about. The mirror above the sink was shattered, shards and chunks of glass decorating the sink and floor. You looked at Jack once more, noticing how he leaned most of his weight against the wall instead of his crutch.

“Jack.” His actual name coming from your mouth snapped him out of whatever he was thinking and you held up your hand to assure him that you were just stepping away for a quick second. You hurried to the closet and yanked on the first pair of closed toed shoes. When you rounded back around the bed, he hadn’t moved from the doorframe. He looked almost too rigid.

“Hey, come here.” You stepped closer to him and slipped his arm over your shoulders so he could lean his weight on you. The crutch slipped from his hand and clattered to the ground, but you paid it no mind. You just focused on getting him to the mattress. You maneuvered the both of you around so he could sit. He immediately lifted the hand he had injured so as to not get blood on the comforter, but you really couldn’t give a shit. Grabbing a towel from the bathroom, you wrapped it around his hand and then kneeled between his legs.

“Jack,” you spoke softly, as if anything loud would startle him. He looked at you with those chocolate eyes, but it was as though he was staring right through you. You raised your hand to cup his cheek and he inhaled sharply at the touch. His eyes fell shut and you stroked your thumb over the soft planes of his face.

“You’re not there. You’re here, in your place.”

“Ours,” he huffed out and you let your lip curve up into a hint of a smile. At least he was still so stubborn. The two of you had moved into a townhome together in the Strip District just a month ago and you were still struggling to come to terms with that. He insisted he would remind you until it was imprinted in your mind.

“Our place,” you corrected. You rubbed the shell of his ear and he let out a trembling sigh. Your other hand moved down to rub against the chafed skin of his stump but he winced the second you touched him.

“What? Does it hurt?”

“Like I’m on fire,” he rasped out. “Woke me up and I thought…it was like being back in the hospital when…Punched the fucking mirror to try and snap out of it. Sorry.” He grit his teeth at the very memory, and you leaned up to press your forehead against his.

“Look at me,” you ordered. “Jack. Look me in the eyes.” He complied and you kept his gaze on yours. “You are not there. You are experiencing phantom limb pain and it can hurt like a bitch. You’re here. In our home. You’re safe.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded so broken that you felt his words fracture your chest.

“No. No, don’t apologize, honey. We’re in this together, right? We’re a team, Bugs. That’s what you told me.” This wasn’t the first time one of you had been through this. Usually it was Jack helping you through the memories that plagued your mind, but you didn’t mind being the one offering a hand to help pull him out of his mind. He had said it all those years ago when you were bleeding out on the floor of a trauma bay as he kept you stable despite shaking hands and a hospital in lockdown.

“Keep your eyes open for me, baby. We’re in this together, damnit. We’re a fucking team. So you keep those fucking eyes open.”

You took his uninjured hand and pulled it down to rest against the puffy scar that lingered on your abdomen. He traced his own handiwork with a delicate touch and you dipped your chin down so you could meet his eyes once more.

“And don’t you start on that shit about me deserving better or whatever,” you added. “Because I chose you, Jack Abbot. So don’t piss me off with all of that bullshit.”

He chuckled and then grimaced when the adrenaline drop made him realize that his hand actually hurt like a bitch. You glanced down at the towel that had spots of blood appearing on the surface and clicked your tongue.

“Alright, here’s the plan. I’m going to get the full length mirror from the closet down and you’re going to do mirror therapy while I fix up your hand. And then you’re going to let me give you a massage and maybe a bit of melatonin and you’re going to sleep until at least four.”

You stood, but Jack let his hand slide down to linger on your hip. He gazed up at you in what you could only describe as devotion. You reached up to slide your fingers through the silky soft strands of his hair, marvelling at the way the silver reflected off the dim lighting from the bathroom.

“Thank you,” he murmured, dipping his head down to brush a kiss to the inside of your wrist. You smiled and bent down to kiss him. He tasted like mint toothpaste and your strawberry chapstick that he liked to steal. You let out a satisfied hum as you pulled away from him and stood up straight.

“Alright, Thumper. Let’s get you fixed up.”

[sl-ut]

darlin’

pairing: timothy ratliff x fem!younger!reader

description: a trip to thailand is supposed to be a chance for some bonding between his three mostly-grown children and his new wife. however, that seems to be a much bigger ask than he initially anticipated.

warnings: smut, unedited (i wrote this in one sitting lol), follows the plot of ep 1 (not to the t), swearing, age gap, mentioned infidelity (both timothy and his ex-wife), reader gets called a slut once, the kids don’t like her, creepy stepsons, drinking, a really really bad attempt at southern slang sorry sorry sorry

words: 5.5K

date posted: 25/02/25

@graciesbow enjoy girl <3

Timothy had anticipated the sort of reaction he would receive from the general public when he made the choice to propose to his girlfriend, and even more so when it came to his own children. She was, of course, nearly twenty years younger than him, only three years older than his eldest child, and to make matters worse, she was also his former assistant. 

It came as quite the shock to some, and not at all to some others. He and his wife had not gotten along in years, only truly getting along during their occasional period of nostalgia-induced affection that occurred after each of their children’s major accomplishments, though those became fewer and farther between as they each got older. He wasn’t sure who had strayed from their marriage first, but he’d found out about his wife’s affair a month into his own, though he said nothing out of a selfish desire to protect his younger lover from public scrutiny. A few months later, his wife had come to him in a blinded rage, throwing a tiny piece of lacy cloth at his chest, an item he hadn’t needed to look at to know what it was. He didn’t feel ashamed at that moment, nor did he feel any sort of alarm at the attack as she screamed and cried at him. 

How could you do this to me? I knew it–I knew you were fucking your slut of an assistant for months now, but to bring her fucking underwear home? Have you no respect for me as your wife?

The words rolled off of his back easily, and he felt calmer than ever before. While his wife paced the floor before him, wailing about his infidelity and the pain he was bringing upon their family, all he saw was opportunity; finally the right time to leave his wife, a fresh start with someone newer, younger, who looked at him like he hung the stars in the night sky and had genuine interest in him, not just the security that came with being his wife. Plus, any regret or guilt that he ever may have felt had been melted away the moment that he discovered that his wife had also been unfaithful, potentially before even he had. She seemed surprised when he brought it up, but at least it made her stop screaming. 

Her questions then turned to, how long have you known? Why haven’t you said anything? What are you going to do?

The conclusion was simple: he moved into a penthouse condo by the end of the week, found a lawyer willing enough to take a few extra stacks of cash under the table to speed up the process of his divorce, and signed the papers. He allowed her to stay in the house with Lochlan until he was graduated and moved away for college, then she would need to find a new place to stay that she could afford on her own, with the help of her spousal support, of course (though, he was certain that she would weasel her way into the life of another man just as wealthy but not quite as stern as he was). 

The world seemed to be a brighter place when he woke up that very first morning in his condo with his lover curled into his side, nowhere else to be and no other life to go rushing back to. The transition was sudden and certainly not entirely helpful for his relationship with his children, but he knew that they wouldn’t stay mad at him for too long considering that they all knew fully well that their mother had been equally as unfaithful, only she had broken things off with her own lover after the divorce while he had his own move in. 

She needed to quit her job, of course, which Timothy assured her that she would be completely taken care of until she found a new job (though, he was attempting to convince her to stop working altogether). He was sore about having to find a new assistant, but hired a young man who was eager to schmooze his way up the corporate ladder only two days after her resignation, but it was all worth it when he was able to slide a heavy diamond-clad band onto her finger only a year later. 

The wedding had been small, only a handful of people from both of their families and a few close friends followed by a three week long honeymoon at the White Lotus resort in Sicily. He’d been happy to see his daughter Piper accept a position in the bridal party, though she was still quite cold to her new stepmother-to-be behind closed doors. His new wife had been cautious about integrating herself into her step children's lives, and though they were all very standoffish, she was able to find a soft spot within each of them, 

Piper kept a tight upper lip, seemingly finding very few qualities in her stepmother that were worthy of her attention, but was easily tricked into conversation about her studies in university. Lochlan was easier to handle, her greatest hindrance in getting to know him being his more reserved nature, though, like his sister, he too felt an obligatory loyalty to his mother and often steered clear of his father’s new wife. The eldest of the three, Saxon, was the exact opposite of his younger siblings. In fact, she had a harder time steering clear of him than she did getting through to the others. He was close to her age, endlessly spoiled, and outrageously horny, finding little problem in his father’s affair and even less so once he and his siblings had begun spending more time with their father and his new wife.

Timothy Ratliff was the kind of man who would do just about anything for the ones he loved. For his wife, he would move mountains, buy her the finest jewellery, or live out the rest of his days in a shack in the woods. For his children, he would ensure that they always had the newest and finest of tech, no material desire left unmet, always finding a way to allow them to grow and succeed as much as they possibly could. It burned him to see his family so divided–he knew his children might never fully come to terms with the way that their parents had separated, but he hoped that, in time, they would come to accept his wife into their lives. 

So, when Piper told him about her thesis on Buddhism, he of course saw an immediate solution to his problem and booked the trip to Thailand with little other thought. The excitement that radiated through each of their faces when he announced the vacation over an intimate family dinner, giving each of them just enough time to make arrangements for their absence and pack their bags. 

The travel in itself had taken more than a full day, and though he had afforded each of them a seat in first class, it was beyond draining, but their arrival in Thailand seemed to make it all worth it. After hours on end on an airplane, the boat ride to their resort was little more than a dream, aside from the fact that Timothy had been silently cursing about the fucking asshole who had also been aboard, poisoning their precious air with his cigarettes and rotten breath, as he had put it while his wife only laughed and ran her hand over his bicep while she calmed him down.

“Maybe Thailand was the right choice,” she joked, freshly manicured fingers curling around the collar of his blue linen shirt. A smirk crossed her lips as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “It’s like, the relaxation capital of the world. Maybe we could book a couples massage, maybe see what other treatments they offer?”

He scoffed, “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here, darlin’. I’m just hoping that we can all find a little more peace here, now for you, that might be massages and facials and such, but me? I’m looking at a little slice of peace right now.”

She slapped her palm gently to his chest, watching in admiration as he lifted her hand, admiring the glint of sunlight radiating from the large diamond on her finger before pressing a kiss to the stone, “Timothy Ratliff, you big old softy.”

“Now don’t go spreading that around town, you hear?”

She laughed, pushing herself away from him and off of the bench they’d been sitting on, “I’m going to grab a water. Don’t miss me too much.”

She met the watchful gaze of her stepdaughter on her way to the large cooler of bottled water just inside the cabin, taking four bottles out and redirecting her path towards the three young people huddled together. 

“Hey guys,” she grinned at them, holding onto her attitude with an iron grip as she received little reaction from any of them, aside from the eldest of the three, who slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to give her a once over, “What do you guys think so far? It’s nice, huh?”

Lochlan glanced at his siblings for some kind of reassurance, though he found none, “Yeah, it’s… nice.”

“Oh yeah,” Saxon added, his eyes trailing every inch of bare skin on his stepmother’s body, following the low neckline of her sundress, “just can’t get over this view.”

It took every ounce of strength in her body to stop herself from cringing away from his intense stare. She was still uncertain as to how he had been raised by a man who never made her feel anything less than loved and appreciated, but always assumed that his attraction to her was either some sort of childish vendetta against his father or a sign of deep-rooted mommy issues. She’d never actually spoken to Victoria one-on-one, and certainly never long enough to grasp any sort of understanding of her relationship with her children. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s pretty great,” she brushed it off, raising the water bottles into the air, “I grabbed you guys some water though. I know it can get warm back home, but make sure you guys stay hydrated. The last thing I want is to see one of you guys with heat stroke or something.”

Both boys took a bottle, Lochlan offering her a weak thanks while Saxon simply popped the cap off and took a long sip. Piper, however, turned her head away without a word, as if the words that had been spoken were nothing more than a whistle in the wind. 

She took a step back, doing her best to not look so hurt by the blatant rejection. Offering the boys a soft smile, she turned and made her way back to her husband, who gladly took the water that his daughter had refused. 

“Now wasn’t that sweet?” He cooed, curling his arm around her shoulder and dropping a kiss to the side of her head, “I think you’re starting to wear them down. Pip

er will come around eventually, just an adjustment, s’all.” 

“You think?” She settled into his side, “I just…I don’t want them to think that I’m trying to replace their mother or anything, but I wish they would see that we can all just get along. I don’t need them to love me, but is it too much to ask for them to like me?”

Timothy was silent for a moment, “If it’s any consolation, Saxon likes you–a little too much, I’d say, but it’s better than nothing. Lochlan’s shy at heart, but he’s already coming around, and Piper, well, I think you two just need to spend a little girl time together. Say, why don’t you take her to do all that spa stuff? You’d probably have a better time with her anyway.”

She scoffed, “You can just say no if you don’t want to go. Besides, I don’t want to take up any of her time when she’s working on her thesis. I know how important it is for her.”

“Jesus, darlin’, I don’t know how you do it,” she stared up at him in confusion, “You just always know exactly what to say to make me fall even more in love with you. You and that big stinkin’ heart of yours.”

She glanced over her shoulder to hide the love-stricken expression that crossed her features, finding that the land had grown incredibly close, a long wooden dock supporting a string of overly enthused hotel employees, all waving at the oncoming flux of visitors as the boat finally docked. 

The five Ratliffs trailed behind their guide as she led them through a wooded path to their villa, a large structure that seemed to be primarily made of large glass panels, which she may have opposed if it had not been so hidden away in the tall palms. She was glad to find that she and her husband would be taking the master suite, which was a fair distance from both of the other bedrooms and allowed them some privacy–if she was going to be fighting for the respect of her stepchildren while on vacation, she was at least going to need some undisturbed alone time with her husband. 

Their guide finished giving them a quick rundown, crushing the dreams of the two younger males when they discovered that, not only was there no wifi, but their devices were not to be used outside of their private villa. She knew that Timothy would find this hard to deal with, considering his line of work, but she had no issues tucking her phone away in her suitcase for most of the trip, aside from taking the occasional sunset photo. 

“Oh come on, guys,” she groaned, shaking Lochlan’s shoulder teasingly, “live in the moment. I think it would be good for all of us to lay off the tech for a little while, don’t you?”

A pink tint bit at Lochlan’s cheeks at the unexpected affection, “Uh, yeah maybe.”

“If I put my phone in the bag, does that mean you’re gonna keep me entertained all week?” Saxon smirked at her, ignoring the groan of disgust from his sister; it just wasn’t enough for him to make a point about Piper and her genitals being fully grown, he seemed hellbent on hitting on their stepmother too. 

Their father ignored his son, as he so often forced himself to, “We’ll be keeping the phones, Pam.”

She rolled her eyes at her husband, moving instead to watch the rolling tide against the shore just below their private deck. When their guide, Pam, finally finished her speel and removed herself from the villa, removed herself from her stepchildren, moving upstairs to do some unpacking and rinse off the uncomfortable layer of sweat that twenty-seven hours of travel had brought on, sighing in relief as she felt herself relax under the warm spray for only a moment before she slipped out, wrapping herself in a fluffy towel and stepping out into the grand master bedroom. 

She smiled to herself at the sight of her husband lounging on the bed, staring down at his phone with a furrowed brow, “What are my chances of stealing you away from that phone for a little while?”

He spared her a sideways glance, “Sorry, sweetheart, just gotta finish something up this afternoon and then I’m all yours.”

“Alright,” she sighed dramatically, “but I’m holding you to that.”

“I know you will.”

She caught his eye as she dropped her towel to the floor, stepping out of it to reach for the bikini she had laid out for herself on the bed, slowly and teasingly sliding the garments onto her body before reaching for the bottle of lotion on her bedside. He watched her silently, blue eyes trailing over the length of her body as she massaged the lotion into her freshly-washed skin. He let out a small sigh of discontent as she wiggled a short blue floral dress over her body and turned back to him with a knowing smile before perching on the edge of the bed next to him.

“I’m gonna go take a nap by the pool. If you finish whatever this is soon enough, I would love for you to join me.”

He set his phone aside for a moment, his palm coming up to cup the underside of her jaw and draw her closer for a kiss, holding her face in place as he easily asserted his dominance over her. She pulled away before it could deepen any further, pressing one more short kiss to his cheek before forcing herself to stand up and put some distance between them. 

“Finish that work,” she pointed a stern finger at him, “like I said, I intend to have you all to myself tonight. No work, no kids, no distractions.”

He scoffed a laugh at her, waving his phone at her dramatically as she turned and fled the room, “Yes ma’am.”

A nap by the pool was so much easier said than done. Perhaps for others, the tranquility of the resort would sooth them straight to sleep, especially after so much travelling, but she had become hyper aware of the intense gazes burning into her exposed flesh as she stretched out on a lounger. Both of her stepsons were on the opposite side of the pool, both watching her with intrigue. She often feared the fact that Lochy was so impressionable, especially by his older siblings. Piper, at least, was more level headed than her elder brother, but regardless, she hoped he was able to form his own opinions without their intervention, and she especially hoped that he did not turn his sights on her as Saxon had, but the way that they both stared at her made her uncertain of that.

She was equally as disgruntled as she was glad when Saxon turned his attention to some of the other women lounging on the pool deck, but at least she was finally able to rest. She was unsure as to how long she’d actually slept for, only that when she woke up, her husband had taken a seat on the edge of her lounge chair, gently shaking her awake.

“Sleep any longer and you’ll miss dinner, sweetheart,” he chuckled as she stretched her arms above her head dramatically, “and what was that promise you made? Something about having me all to yourself?”

She smiled sleepily at him, sliding her sunglasses up to rest on her head, “Yeah, yeah, I know what I said.”

The couple stared at each other lovingly for a beat, fingers tangling together over her bare stomach as she spoke again, “Did you finish your work?”

He hummed in response, “Sure did, but I’ll admit I may have had an ulterior motive.”

“Oh yeah?” She smirked, “and what was that?”

“Strangest thing, actually,” he smoothed his hand over his mouth and chin as he fought off a sly grin, “there was this woman, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone quite so beautiful.” 

“So what are you doing here then?”

“Well that’s the thing, she told me she’d be here, and I swear you look so much like her it’s almost hard to believe,” he leaned in closer and lowered his voice, “only difference is, she was naked.”

She lifted her foot and nudged it against his side, laughing coyly at him, “Well, I would never.”

“Oh no? Cause I coulda swore–”

“Can you two be done being gross now?” Piper’s voice cut through their interaction like a warm knife through butter, “this is a public place, you know.”

Timothy sighed, “Yes, darlin’. Just came down to make sure everyone got ready for dinner in time.”

The younger woman scoffed, turning on her heel and marching back to the villa, not caring whether they were following her or not. 

Dinner went by with just as many turns and twists as usual, each of the children giving their father a reason to stress, while he reciprocated with semi-impossible standards and tough love. Timothy was genuinely glad to return to the villa that night, even after receiving some strange call from the Wall Street Journal. He’d returned in time to avoid his wife’s extensive bedtime routine in the bathroom, slipping in to take care of his own just as she exited and climbing into the plush king-sized bed in his pyjamas as quickly as he could, grabbing the book off of his nightstand. 

“Doesn’t this place just remind you of our honeymoon?” She called from within the walk-in closet, “I think we’ll just have to make an effort to visit all of the White Lotuses. I hear the one in Hawaii is nice.”

He chuckled, eyes fixed on his book, “Our first night in Thailand and you’re already planning a trip to Hawaii next.” 

“I can alway go with someone else if you don’t want to,” she mused, appearing in the doorway of the closet and leaning against the doorframe, “but it would feel like an endless honeymoon, don’t you think?”

“Why don’t we focus on getting through one vacation at a time, huh? Then we can talk about going to–” his breath caught in his throat as he finally tore his gaze from his book to where his wife was posed in the doorway, donning a loose-fitted lacy nightgown, the floral pattern revealing glimpses of her bare flesh underneath, “well, now what’s this?”

“Took you long enough,” she shrugged, “thought I’d have to claw that book out of your hands.”

He watched her closely as she crossed the room, crawling across the bed to straddle his lap and pluck the novel from his hand, tossing it on the nightstand haphazardly. Timothy sighed at her, hands coming to rest on her hips as her own hands smoothed over his shoulders and curled around the back of his neck, “You could’ve at least let me save my place, darling.”

She raised a brow at him, “Oh, my bad. Let me just grab it for you–”

His fingers tightened around her hips as she attempted to reach for the book, pulling her back into his lap firmly, the lacy fabric of her nightgown bunching at her hips, “Now don’t make me pin you down, darlin’.”

She shook her head, pressing kisses up the column of his throat, “Nuh-uh. I’m taking care of you tonight.”

He pulled back for a moment, “You sure, sweetheart? I know we’re both pretty tired, you don’t gotta–”

“Are you telling me that you don’t wanna?” She muttered as she dropped her hips down to press herself against the growing tent beneath the sheets.

He grunted, “Now you know I will always want to with you, but–”

“So then you just need to lay back, relax, and shut that big mouth of yours.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She smirked at him, lifting her hand to carefully pluck his reading glasses off of the bridge of his nose and setting them on the nightstand, then finally leaning in to capture his lips in a slow, breathless kiss. He groaned into her mouth as she easily slid her tongue along his own, creating a familiar rhythm that they’d gotten down within their first few nights together. They were so in sync with one another, easily melting into one another’s embrace, sliding her hands underneath the thin fabric of his white cotton t-shirt and over his soft, muscular torso. 

“You are wearing way too many clothes,” she spoke against his lips, breaking away to slip his shirt over his head. 

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he murmured, pushing the lacy material up her sides, watching as every inch of her bare skin revealed itself to him, breasts bouncing as they were released from the soft cups of the dress and leaving her in only a matching lacy thong. 

His mouth dropped to suck one of her pert nipples into his mouth, tongue rolling over the sensitive nub greedily. She sighed at his touch, head lolling back and spine arching closer to him as he swapped over to the opposite breast. 

“Tim,” she gasped, “hey, this is supposed to be me taking care of you. How is it you always do this to me?”

“Guess I’m just too charming for you to hold your own.”

“Yeah, okay,” she chuckled, “now shut up. I mean it this time.”

She pushed herself away from him, crawling back just enough to pull the sheets and his pyjama pants down his thighs, watching gleefully as his hardening member rose to slap against his belly. When she had finally cleared the way, she moved to lay on her belly between his thighs, fingers curling around his thick cock and giving it a gentle squeeze, grinning at the sound of his breath catching. Holding his gaze, she leaned in, tongue gingerly tracing the leaking slit and humming at the salty taste of his arousal. At the sound of his first true moan of pleasure, she finally took him into her mouth, guiding his member into her mouth until his tip prodded at the back of her throat.

“Just like that, baby,” he let his head fall back to rest against the headboard while his fingers curled into her hair, gently guiding her movements as she began to bob her head along enthusiastically, small grunts and choking noises escaping her each time that he bottomed out inside of her. “Always so good for me.”

He allowed her to take over, keeping his hands in her hair as a reminder of exactly who was in charge while giving her the freedom to move as she saw fit. Perhaps she was right, maybe he did need to relax, and if this was how he could do that then she would not hear any more arguments from him. 

Finally, he pulled her up and off of him, a deep chuckle rumbling through his chest as she whined defiantly, “As much as I’m enjoying this, there’s something else I’d rather enjoy so much more.”

She giggled as he manhandled her across the bed until she was pressed to the mattress on her back, her husband hovering over her as his fingers teased over her barely covered cunt. She gasped at his touch, wiggling her hips eagerly to help him slide the lacy material down her legs, leaving her completely bare to him. He kissed her quickly on the lips, moving down her body to return the favour when her grasp tightened around him. 

“Nuh-uh,” she whispered between the kisses she trailed across his neck, “I am so, so, so ready.”

He raised a brow at her, chuckling as he ran his fingers through her folds, finding her soaked, “My goodness, darlin’. Have I kept you waiting like this all day?”

“Mhm,” she laughed, pulling him up to almost entirely cover her body with his own, legs wrapping around his waist as she rocked against him, a melodic sigh falling from her parted lips as his thick tip caught against her clit, swollen with anticipation. “Fuck, Tim. Are you gonna put it in or not?”

His palm tapped against her cheek in a mock slap, never willing to truly hurt her but just hard enough to put her in her place, “Patience is a virtue, my love.”

Her ankles hooked together just beneath his bum, using the strength of her calves to pull him impossibly closer. The defiant glint in her eyes quickly melted away into one of desperation as the moments slipped by, gasps of anticipation and annoyance as he continued to move against her, carefully prodding against her entrance before sliding upwards to her clit before he could fully slide into her warmth. 

“Patience,” she scoffed, her indignation growing with every moment as she stared up at his proud face, “I think I’ve been patient enoug–oh!”

He finally pushed his hips forward, sinking into her warmth until their hips were flush together. His head dropped to her shoulder with a groan, stilling as his tip pressed so deeply inside of her, easily finding that spongy spot inside of her that made her head spin and her limbs feel like jelly, though the pause was more a chance for him to collect himself rather than to allow her to adjust, but neither of them really addressed it. Her long nails traced up and down the length of his back, calming his nerves as he began ministering slow rolls of his hips.

She whimpered, thighs clenching around his hips, “Fuck, you feel so good baby.”

“Yeah?” he panted, finally pulling back to meet her lips in a soft, breathy kiss as his movements quickened, “Just like that?”

Her nails sunk into the muscles of his back, “Oh yes, right there.”

Timothy bent his neck, a somewhat uncomfortable angle for him as he moved back and forth between her breasts, offering each just as much attention as the other while his movements turned into firm, quick thrusts. One of her hands tangled into his hair, pulling his mouth away from her chest and back to her lips while the other slid down the length of his spine and took hold of one of his round asscheeks, squeezing it appreciatively as he let out a loud groan-stifled laugh. He could never fully understand his wife’s fascination with his ass, nor would he ever bring it up to anybody, but he was not opposed to her wandering hands when they were behind closed doors.

She was quick to topple over the edge, her moans growing louder and less reserved as she climaxed, body trembling from the aftershocks, though he gave her little reprieve as he pulled out, forcing himself onto his knees while flipping her over to lay flat on her stomach. He slid a pillow beneath her hips, angling her core towards him as he slipped back inside and draped his body over her own, his weight supported by one hand pressing into the mattress next to her head while the other gripped her hip, pulling her back to meet his every thrust.

Timothy didn’t miss the fingers that she had slipped down to rub at her clit as his hips pistoned in and out of her dripping core, “You need’ta come again that bad, darlin’? You needed me that bad?” 

“Mhm,” she whined, “needed you all day, Tim.”

“Let me take care of you, baby,” the hand on her hip moved around to the front of her, pushing her fingers out of the way and replacing them with his own, “you just lay there and take it. That’s right, turn that pretty little brain of yours.”

She followed his every instruction, cheek pressed into the mattress, lips parted to allow every cry and whimper to escape her as her back arched even more into his hips. Her legs bent at the knees, calves wrapping up the side of his hip. 

“Gonna fill you up baby,” he rasped, cursing as her walls began to flutter around him as the knot in her stomach threatened to snap for the second time that night, “you like that idea, huh? You want me to make you a mama or somethin’?”

Though they had no intentions of having any children in the near future, they had been equally responsive to the idea of her falling pregnant during sex. Her walls clamped down on him hard, body tensing as her juices gushed out around him. Her clit throbbed beneath his fingertips for a moment before her body went lax against the mattress, somehow even more so at his mercy than before as his hips began to stutter in response to his own orgasm rushing through him, sending spurts of his seed into her core, collapsing over her back in relief. 

“Goddamn, baby,” his breath was heavy against her cheek as he spoke, “never ever gonna get my fill of this pussy.”

She huffed out a breathless laugh, glancing at him over her shoulder, “Yeah, yeah, I love you, too. Now take me to the shower and let’s go to bed, I’m feeling awfully tired all of a sudden.”

“Oh yeah?”  He asked while he carefully unravelled himself from around her, climbing off of the bed while he guided her into his arms, swaying them side to side as he walked them over to the bathroom, where he left her to do her business while he started the shower.

“Yep,” she mused, that familiar glint of desire in her sleepy eyes, “besides, you’re gonna need your beauty sleep before round two in the morning.”

[yok00k]

¿can you kiss me more?

pairing: hellokittylover!oc x boxer!jk

genre: smut

“baby, hold me ‘cause I like the way you groove”

summary: jungkook’s lust and love for you becomes insatiable

warnings: MATURE— cockwarming, slight somnophilia [consented], jk jerks off in front of oc, jk is a pervert and hella possessive (& mentally obsessed w/ oc), unedited, lowercase intended

word count: 900

author’s yap: i’m kinda back bc I’m in my jobless era🥸. I wrote this a few months ago and just kinda abandoned it -_- it’s also far from the initial scenario that I was gonna write but meh.

“koo..so deep inside me” you softly cry as for the fact that his entire length is buried deep within your aching walls. you can feel how hard Jungkook is inside you.

“yeah? you’ll keep me warm, right?” he lowly said while smirking underneath you. he firmly shoves himself more, resulting you gently tug on his long hair as he further sucks one of your perky nipples, making it swollen.

—

this particular action is what 's been keeping him occupied for the past thirty minutes as soon as he came back from his 2-hour morning boxing session. jungkook spotted you in the same position you were in before he left. the only difference now is that his thick comforter that wrapped your whole body is no longer covering every inch of you. which makes your baby pink see-through lingerie on display for him to see, only for his sight to enjoy.

what a drooling view

he goes up to your sleeping figure, taking a closer look of your exquisite physique. your cleavage almost flashing him because of how low cut the piece of cotton fabric you’re wearing. not forgetting to mention those curvy hips of yours and naturally thick and tender thighs that only he can touch. nobody else. not on his watch

jungkook feels like some perverted man lusting over your unconscious frame. you’re so sweet, too fragile. seems like in one touch, you’ll break.

however that’s all facade. you may seem too innocent but he knows every tiny detail of yours. including those dirty secrets that turn you on and wild kinks that nobody would’ve guessed you’re into. to him, you have the face of an angel with devilish preferences.

you initially woke up with a pleasurable sensation that jungkook had caused you: a storm of wet kisses from your neck to the valley of your breast accompanied by a pair of muscular arms roaming around your figure. it’s a habit for both you and jungkook to be touchy to one another in the morning. you love showing your love and affection to him, so as he does to you therefore you allow him to express physical intimacy towards you.

as much as you’d love to show your love back to him, you’re still sleepy and lack energy to move. a few seconds later, you fall back to sleep.

on the other hand, jungkook is getting even more aroused by this situation. his fully tattooed arm moves its way down to your backside, giving your plumpy ass a tight squeeze before proceeding to knead your cheek.

your sleeping figure doesn’t help with his high sex drive. how would his sexual urges decrease when the person in his fantasies is laying on his bed. you.

before he could ever comprehend what he’s doing, he found himself kneeling in front of your ass cheeks. jungkook lowers his light gray sweatpants, just right down under his balls, setting his erected cock free.

he leans down towards you to plant a tiny peck in your temples. jungkook locks his attention to your angelic face as he begins pumping his member toward your ass that’s covered by transparent lace fabric. he smudges his oozing precum around his til using his thumb while thinking how pretty your swollen lips would be if he smeared his fluid around them.

he continues to ejaculate, tightening his rough palm around his cock trying to imitate the tightness of your pussy when he nests himself inside you. your tight walls are 100% way much better than his fucking hands. it’s no doubt that nothing and nobody can compare to you. not even a bit

jungkook fails to be soundless and slips out quiet groans, cursing by how good and light headed he feels right now. he hopes that he could stay in this scenery forever. having you comfortably and peacefully sleeping on his bed while he jerks off in front of you. plus you wouldn’t mind just laying there and looking effortlessly pretty for him, right?

he’s almost there, he’s starting to feel the anticipated satisfaction coming towards him. by the moment, he shuts down his eyes as he throws his head back, savoring the intense feeling of pleasure as he reaches his highest peak.

jungkook spills ropes of hot white cum, aiming his oozing tip over the thin baby pink fabric that barely covers your ass. he releases a few more moans as he fully emptied himself to the cloth of your lingerie.

he arrives his desired destination, his paradise

you rise from your sleep by a familiar faint noise, more like a series of whimpers. you lift your head and catch that those breathless sounds are coming from none other than your boyfriend, jungkook. you also notice that he’s weakly pumping his hand around his cock, slowly coming to a halt.

“kookie?” you softly call, which brings him back from heaven to reality.

once he opens his eyes, he locks eye contact with your beautiful eyes, an innocent smile is painted on your face. his appearance softened, as if he wasn’t lusting over you a second ago.

he lifts his upper body and leans closer to your face, giving your lips a smooch.

“good morning baby”

series_m.list

[bunji-enthusiast]

Bᴇᴇɴ ⵊɴsɪᴅᴇ

A/N… Rex is shameless, rrrrrgh. Wrote this with an energy drink and a dream fyi, so I’m still sleepy as shit.

the sun was shining and the birds were singing—which is what you’d be thinking if you were still snoring away in your beloved dreamland. but no, reality hits you hard as soon as you awoke. your gaze snaps to the man beside you, almost a little breathless; otherwise—out of it. then what happened last night comes rushing back to you, the memory makes you groan as you stretch, feeling the soreness not just down where it was; but virtually everywhere on your body. while you couldn’t complain about where you woke up, your body was hurting like hell. and it wasn’t even from last night alone. It was the entire goddamn week.

you telepathically curse the world. fuuuck.

however, you decide to check if you were really dreaming. you lift the blanket, your eyes razing over your spottily bruised skin; mainly on your hips. though to gods, you could feel some sort of warmth against the sensation of the bruises. you blinked slowly, a semblance of confusion crawls up your spine.

“holy shit.” you mutter, shifting so that you no longer were just laying down.

so you weren’t dreaming.

whatever you were feeling in your heart, or chest—this was just unreal. you actually fucked Rex.

you snort, holding your head in your hands. leaning against the headboard of the bed. well, atleast you were comfortable. because this was some bullshit.

there’s no way you actually did it, but the evidence was indisputably clear. you couldn’t deny it.

you were used to doing one-night stands, no strings attached. no feelings whatsoever involved, all purely for the moment of pleasure. however this was a different case.

Rex actually stayed. you weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel about that, or the whole thing in general. but he wasn’t awake yet—fortunately, so you could freak out about it in quiet silence. not have to be embarrassed. though that was not to deny you were already reaching that right now.

“you good?”

His hoarse voice snaps you out of your hazy daze, and you blink a few times when you fully register that Rex was—in fact awake. you let out a low squeak when you realize, groaning inwardly at yourself. “m’fine.”

“your lookin’ pretty red though.” he drawls, chuckling as he stretches his arms. this probably was nothing new to him, but this was certainly something new to you.

you did not like it. “guess we both know who to blame for that,” you bite, though there was no venom in your words. even despite the circumstances, you try to be a nice person.

“oh me?” he laughs, “damn. I’m hurt.”

however, even full well knowing he says that. it wasn’t true, he enjoys talking with you. so when he’s seen you with some less then inconspicuous assholes trying to pull shit on you last night at the square downtown. Rex most certainly didn’t take it well, he’s trying to be a better man sure, but that wasn’t stuff he takes lightly. even for a douche like him, and he recognizes it.

“like you’d be hurt by that.” you exhale, letting your shoulders deflate. despite being square as they’ll ever be when your in working form, you didn’t have the energy to muster something more. sometimes being around Rex made that part easier.

as per his cocky demeanor, he replies, “had me there, but damn, I didn’t know someone like you could moan so loud.”

“your a whiner.” you shot back with a grin, brow arched. Rex holds up his hands in mock-surrender.

“hey, I know game when I see it.”

“Oh do you?” you laugh, crossing your arms.

Rex props himself up on his elbows, biceps flexing against the strain of his weight. his tone drops low, “s’not meant to be an insult.”

you sigh, shaking your head. “I know. it’s just—“ you cut yourself off, now rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m just surprised.”

now that had him curious, Rex crawls over. for a moment, he hesitates, but against his usual gut instincts — he lends his hand for yours.

and you don’t stop him, of course you don’t. you should, but you didn’t.

“c’mon…” he questions, brows creased with concern. “you wanna tell me?” Rex will respect it if you decline doing so, but, he just senses like it’s something you need to get off your chest.

you take the moment, this transitionary pin willowed in oddly comforting silence. “it’s not like I haven’t fucked before, but usually… it’s all one-time thing with guys I’ve met just once.”

“Mhm.” he muttered, “but there’s more?”

you nod, “it’s always no strings attached, and they never stay—but you did.”

Rex pauses at that revelation, then chuckles. your prolonged sadness suddenly dissipates, wondering why he found it so funny.

“eh, shit. i get that.” he says, firmly pulling your hand closer, interlacing with his own. a lop-sided grin tugs at his lips, “i used to hop out a lot afterwards, but y’know i realized it just only made me shittier.”

you bark out a laugh at his comment, and honest to god that alone makes his heart swell. “I like getting to wake up to a face like yours anyways.” he adds finally, still grinning.

“oh fuck you.” you insult, but nothing behind it whatsoever draws any bite. usually they do of course, but now it’s just not working at all.

seriously, what the fuck was he doing to you?

“anytime of the day?” he interjects, looking straight at you. you shoot him a glare, but he doesn’t back down, instead inching closer to you.

oh my god, you think to yourself. Rex truly always had a way of subverting the mood, whether subtly, or otherwise in true fashion. it was a uniqueness only he could perform, frankly it had made you question once or twice why or how you even had a crush on Rex.

“have you got any shame?” you smile, watching as he drops himself right on top of you.

Rex hums to himself, as if he truly was taking your question into consideration. then he shakes his head, “nahhh, I lost that awhile ago.”

you had to stifle a laugh, “you know what? that tracks.” you reach for his face, carefully holding it. though, his eyes were really… pretty. oh damn this guy.

“exactly.” Rex inhales, leans right into your touch and lets out a long sigh. “damn sure I’m not the only one though.” at that, you shake your head in disbelief. Rex wasn’t wrong though, but you were sure he outmatches you in that department.

hell—Rex was naked an entire fight, and he felt no embarrassment about it whatsoever. you point your finger right into his temple, “you… Rex are lucky I haven’t kicked you out yet.”

“guess I am.” he responds, its a note of simplicity in he says it that makes you envious. “you know what would happen if you did?”

you only smile, then decide to humor him, “what?”

“I’d be so sad.” he says, laying his head against your chest. relishing in your warmth, and you blush. feeling the heat rise in your cheeks and neck, he was so unfairly beautiful when it looked like he was at peace.

you decide to pat his head, threading your thumb against the sleekness of his hair. “that’d be a first, but i would feel too bad.”

“good,” Rex sighs, almost impossibly nuzzling in closer. he moans, “keep doin’ that, please.”

you almost shiver at the noise, laying your other hand against his back. you fully commit to carding your fingers through his hair. “you really like this huh?”

“feels nice.” he admits, and you roll your eyes in slight disbelief. nonetheless—you continue doing as per his request, taking residence in this little world of yours.

if this had been you and him way earlier, maybe five months back. you would’ve accused Rex of being replaced by someone else entirely, because this was way too domestic. while it was unusual, you didn’t mind it. you definitely wanted going to commit this softness to memory, because you weren’t sure if you ever were going to see this side of him ever again.

a soft buzz interrupts your stream of thoughts, and you realize it was your phone. so you stop your ministrations, you hear a low huff immediately.

he curses breathlessly, motherfuck—he was really enjoying that. “who is it?” Rex mutters.

“dunno, I’m lookin.” you respond, dragging your free hand up and down against his back. continuing on with your other, you check the notification—

“shit.” you cursed, groaning. “it’s my brother.”

he lifts his head up, Rex was surprised, “you got a bro?”

you nod at him, ripping your eyes away from the screen. “he’s just asking if I could come over to his place to help with his shit. dumbass won’t specify.” you roll your eyes, “whatever he means.”

“well that’s stupid.” he replies, raising a brow. Rex leans forward, taking the phone out of your hand. you stutter at his sudden action, but he only just sets it face down on the space of the bed beside you. he then returns his gaze to you, and leans closer, waiting for you to be able to say yes.

you were confused, but then the realization sets in. you couldn’t repress your smile, leaning forward to slot your lips against his.

Rex hums, trying to let his mind get muddled. your the one who pulls back, and he stops. “the dude can wait can’t he?” he asks, and you shrug.

“maybe,” you replied, sighing as you your forehead against his. “but I can’t just stay in here the whole time. I’m gonna get questioned, and damn thoroughly might I add.”

Rex just only groans, rolling his eyes. he leans back a comfortable distance, a light flickering in his gaze, “I could come with you?”

“But then that’d just make things weird.” you refute, squaring your shoulders halfway. at your words, Rex laughs.

“I’ve been inside you.” he grins, resting his hand against your chest as if to emphasize his point.

“pretty sure we’re past that point.”

[luvergirl-535]

something like love

part - 7

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

word count - 10.7k

c/w - language, drinking/smoking, smut

a/n - took me five days but here’s your long chapter!! i really hope this lives up to your expectations! as always lmk how u feel and live react plsss!!! (also, this is completely unedited and i wrote parts while high. as usual. i will come back to edit later 🙂‍↕️)

There are a lot of things you can learn about somebody in ten years. There are the basics, of course: Their favorite color, and whether it changes every few weeks. Their middle name, and whether they like it. Their childhood stuffed animal, and whether they keep it hidden in a closet.

Then, as you go from knowing each other for one month to one year, and one year to five, you learn other things. You learn about their relationship with intimacy. You learn about why they occasionally stare into space for minutes on end, mind somewhere far away even though they make such an effort to stay close to you. You learn how to ask the right questions in order to crack their shell just enough that they open up to you without breaking.

Azzi knows Paige like she’s a fact—solid, unchallengeable, honest.

But this morning, she doesn’t understand a single thing about her. And that’s not for lack of trying.

After their perfect day turned weird yesterday, Azzi had woken up on high alert. She’s so used to Paige being an open book that it makes her endlessly uneasy when she does strange, mysterious things like creating an ocean between them while they’re sleeping in the same bed.

Naturally, being hopelessly in love with Paige has gotten Azzi used to watching her. Analyzing her. Prodding her and testing her reactions.

So when they first woke up, she watched: Paige, naturally, was still sleeping. She had subconsciously moved toward Azzi in her sleep, but not by much. Her lips were pink and slightly parted, cheeks flushed with sleep, back rising and falling softly. The bedroom window was open in an attempt to fight off the summer heat, and birds were singing outside, waking with the sun—which rose in gentle orange and pink hues, shining through the sheer curtains, painting Paige’s skin and hair pastel. In that moment, Azzi really couldn’t blame herself for falling in love with her.

After Paige woke up, while they methodically went about their morning routines, she analyzed: the first thing she noticed was the silence; unusual, unsettling, and oh-so loud. Paige was never a morning person but she was a chatterbox through and through—she’d always wake up talking Azzi’s ear off about nonsense, and she’d do it drowsily, but she’d do it nonetheless.

The second thing she noticed was the way Paige refused to look her in the eye. Not even once, not even for a second. There was no sleepy smile when she woke up to find Azzi next to her, no silly faces while the two of them got dressed, no lidded, sleepy eye contact through the mirror while they brushed their teeth side-by-side.

And the third thing: Paige wouldn’t touch her. Not to brush against the small of her back while she moved past her into the bathroom. Not to pull her hair back for her as she did her makeup. Not even to fix her blouse when she mistakenly buttoned it wrong.

Now, the two of them are in the kitchen, alone—Paige’s siblings are still sleeping and her parents are both back at work, which is a blessing, honestly.

It’s time for Azzi to prod.

“Paige,” she says casually, the first thing they’ve said to each other all morning, “can you make me some coffee?”

Paige looks up from where she’d been on her phone, expression almost surprised at having been addressed. She looks as if she’s about to point to herself and say, “Who, me?”

Instead, she glances suspiciously between the coffee machine and where Azzi leans against the counter not four feet away from it. Azzi almost dares her to challenge her, to say something snarky like ‘Why don’t you get your own damn coffee?’

Paige may be acting weird, but Paige is Paige. And things may be changing in ways neither of them wants it to change but she would still do anything for Azzi. So, without a word, she gets up from her barstool and heads to the Keurig, sauntering all cool and level-headed like she’s not acting odd as hell right now.

It’s a little disappointing that Paige still hasn’t spoke, but not surprising. Sometimes she needs some extra help.

“So…” Azzi trails, waiting for Paige’s eyebrow raise and ‘So, what?’ back. It doesn’t come. Paige stares intensely at the coffee machine.

“How’d you sleep?” Azzi finally asks.

Paige starts rifling through the cabinets for a mug while the coffee starts up. Azzi can barely hear it when she says, “Alright,” but it still counts because it’s something. Two whole syllables.

“Any dreams?”

Is she imagining it? Or does Paige stiffen up at that?

No, she’s definitely not imagining it. Because when Paige turns to finally look at her—for the first time this morning, mind you—her eyes are wide and—is that a flush creeping over her cheeks? “Why you askin’ about my dreams? Did I sleep talk or sum’?”

Puzzled, Azzi blinks at her best friend, wondering why idle small talk would get such a reaction out of her. “Um, no? Just asking.”

Paige narrows her eyes at her, but when Azzi just stares back, perplexed, she relaxes and turns away. “Oh. Aight.”

“Well, I had a dream,” Azzi says. “We were characters in South Park.”

On any normal day, this would’ve had Paige interested and on the edge of her seat like that. But today, Paige just hums, kneeling down to pull sugar and vanilla syrup from a drawer.

“And you sounded like Eric and I sounded like Stan.”

Paige straightens up, heading to the fridge. “They sound the same to me.”

Azzi glares holes into the back of her best friend’s head. “And we were playing basketball. But we were all short and stuff, so the ball was, like, as big as we were. I still got a ton of shots on you, obviously.”

Paige turns around with cream in her hand, Azzi flashes a dazzling smile, dimple and all. Paige barely even glances her way.

She’s not even going to argue with that? She’s not going to laugh at the sheer stupidity of that silly dream? She’s not going to fondly roll her eyes at Azzi’s grin?

Azzi’s starting to think something more sinister is going on here. Maybe alien abduction.

“P?” she asks, almost meekly, a last-ditch effort.

Paige merely hums, beginning to make Azzi’s coffee exactly the way she likes it, and that warms her a little bit.

“Hey,” she says, stepping closer, leaning against the counter beside Paige. “You good?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies. But her voice is…shaky. Not quite like herself.

Beginning to get a little concerned now—not just for the entire trajectory of their relationship but for her—Azzi lays a hand on her shoulder, gently so as not to spook her, almost like she’s a timid dog. “You sure?”

Azzi studies Paige’s face carefully. She’s gone pale, except for the blush on her cheeks, which is now brilliantly (and adorably) pink.

Paige nods, but Azzi doesn’t buy that one bit, and now she’s wondering whether this is really about yesterday like she’d originally thought. Maybe this whole time she’s been so self-centered to think it was about her. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with her at all.

The thought is so relieving it nearly makes her knees buckle.

Almost gleefully, Azzi reaches up to touch Paige’s forehead, and then her cheeks. “Are you feeling okay? Are you sick?”

“Azzi, I’m fine,” Paige insists, and she sounds so defensive that it has the opposite effect.

Sure of herself now, Azzi wraps her hands around the back of Paige’s neck, pulling her down so her best friend’s forehead is to her cheek—something Katie always did to her and her brothers when they were little. “I dunno, P. You feel kinda warm to me.”

“Shit,” Paige hisses, suddenly yanking herself from Azzi’s grasp, staring down at her hands. Azzi follows her gaze to find Paige has spilled a good amount of cream over the counter.

“Hey, it’s okay—“ Azzi begins, reaching for the roll of paper towels, but Paige holds up a hand to stop her.

“Azzi. For real. Just…listen, I need a sec, okay?” she’s still all wobbly, and her hands are shaking as she brings them up to rub at her jaw, eyes closed.

Surprised, Azzi rears back a few steps, putting distance between them. “P, what…?

“I’m fine,” Paige says, but it sounds like she’s on the verge of tears as she cups her own face with her palms and it goes against every instinct Azzi has but she begins to back away. Slowly, like she’s waiting for Paige to change her mind, for her to reach for Azzi and fall into her arms and tell her what the fuck is going on right now.

She doesn’t. And Azzi can only mutter, “I’ll be in the room,” before she’s out the kitchen, heading up the stairs and clutching at her stomach like she can somehow stop the anxiety boiling deep inside.

————————————————

An hour later, Paige is walking through the bedroom door with a jovial smile on her face.

Azzi startles when her best friend walks into the room, preparing to deal with this mood that seems to have overtaken her, and her jaw very nearly drops when she sees the expression on Paige’s face.

“Hey,” Paige says when she spots Azzi (who has been curled on the bed for the past hour, trying to stave off these new existential crises). “Watcha up to?”

Azzi doesn’t reply. She doesn’t even sit up. She just stares at this scarily bipolar form which has somehow taken the shape of her best friend.

“It’s too hot to be out today,” Paige goes on without waiting for an answer. She kneels down to rifle around in her suitcase. “So I was thinking the movies? Just me and you?”

And then she starts humming. Like, actually humming to herself.

Azzi has absolutely no idea how to approach this situation. She’s almost afraid to even move, as if Paige were a motion-activated bomb—because that’s kind of what it feels like right now.

“Yo,” Paige says at Azzi’s continued silence, standing up with a pair of shoes in hand. “You wanna go or not?”

Azzi wishes she could bask in it—the sudden normalcy, the way Paige is talking to her and looking her in the eye and no longer seeming on the brink of passing out. But it’s such a stark difference from this morning that all Azzi can do is wonder what happened in the past hour to cause such a severe change.

“Azzi,” Paige urges, and for some reason that’s what gets Azzi moving.

She sits up straight, staring Paige dead in the eye when she asks, “What is up with you?”

Paige doesn’t get defensive, and that tells her everything she needs to know. “Nothin’. Just wanna go watch a movie.”

Azzi doesn’t return her friend’s charming smile. “Don’t play, Paige.”

Paige has the audacity to look confused. “Huh?”

If she’s going to play dumb, that leaves Azzi no choice but to be direct. “I’m just wondering why you were acting bitchy to me all morning and now you’re walking in here, acting like nothing happened?”

“Oh, that,” Paige replies, but there’s nothing convincing about her clueless act. It’s obvious in the way she averts her eyes, crosses her arms. “I just didn’t feel good, like you said. But I took some medicine, so we’re up.”

“Uh-huh,” Azzi replies.

“Yeah.”

“So, you didn’t feel good. That’s it.”

“Yep,” Paige replies cheerfully, kneeling down to start putting her shoes on.

“And that’s why you couldn’t touch me, or talk to me. Or even, like, look at me.”

Paige stares down at her feet, fiddling with the laces, tying them slowly to put off the inevitable moment she’ll have to stand back up again. “I dunno. Didn’t notice I was doing that.”

“Paige,” Azzi says, and Paige must sense that she’s really serious now because she looks up, watching her swing her legs over the edge of the bed. “Please, just talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Paige replies simply, standing with one shoe untied to sit by Azzi on the bed.

Her detachment, her false answers and carelessness, are so frustrating it almost makes Azzi want to cry. “If you’re mad at me about—what I said yesterday, at the lake, then just tell me. I don’t want things to be weird between us just because we’re not talking—“

“Whoa, hey, slow down,” Paige says, and the hand she places on Azzi’s knee is so comforting she really could cry at this point. “I’m not mad at you. Did you think that this whole time?”

“Obviously.” Azzi widens her eyes at her emphatically. “What else was I supposed to think, when you were acting all weird towards me?”

Paige frowns at that, looking genuinely troubled at the notion of Azzi’s internal conflict. “I’m not mad at you, ma, for real. I just—“ she sighs, taking her hand off Azzi’s knee to run over her face. “I couldn’t really sleep last night, my mind was going like a hundred miles per minute for some reason.”

“About what?” Azzi asks.

There’s that same reaction from earlier—the stiffness and the blush. Like she’s embarrassed, or maybe even guilty?

Seriously, what is that about?

“Oh, nothing,” Paige replies airily, waving her off despite her mildly visceral reaction to the question. “Just a buncha stuff. And then, well…” she trails off, glancing at Azzi to see if she’ll be able to get away with it. She’s met with a stern glare that clearly says don’t you dare close up on me again, and sighs before continuing. “I’ll be real, I did have some dreams last night, once I finally fell asleep. And they were—they kept waking me up, but every time I fell back asleep they’d just come back again.”

“Like, scary dreams?” Azzi asks, brows furrowed. Paige has occasionally had nightmares while they were together, but they always have her jerking around or talking in her sleep so much that it wakes Azzi, who will wake her best friend and speak softly to her of good, happy things in order to lull her back to sleep. It’s never affected Paige so badly that she was a completely different person when she woke up.

Azzi watches Paige’s throat bob as she swallows thickly before saying, “Something like that.”

Azzi doesn’t reply. She doesn’t really know how to—doesn’t know where she stands right now, in this weird, unfamiliar territory they’ve stepped into.

Paige speaks for her, never good with lingering silences. “Hey, uh, a few of my cousins up here—they’re around our age, and they’re gonna be throwing this big party tomorrow. They invited us to go.”

Azzi hesitates. “They invited both of us?”

“They wanna meet you. Since you’re my…”

“Girlfriend,” Azzi finishes.

Paige nods slowly. “Right.”

“And you really wanna go? With me?” Azzi asks.

Paige scoots a little closer, lays her hand palm-up on Azzi’s leg. When Azzi takes it, instinctually, it’s like finding her footing again. “Don’t wanna go anywhere without you.”

One of these days, Azzi will learn her lesson. One of these days, she’ll straighten her spine and figure out how to tell Paige no, how to say what she really wants to say.

Today, though, is just like any other. That is to say, Azzi falls for pretty blue eyes and prettier words, and says what she knows Paige wants to hear: “Okay. Why not?”

Paige grins at her, and Azzi almost forgets this whole strange morning, their little argument yesterday, the kiss that preceded it.

Key word: Almost.

Because there’s this sinking feeling in her stomach that won’t quite let her forget.

————————————————

Getting ready for this party is turning out to be absolute hell.

“Azzi, just get ready at the hotel.”

“No, Paige.”

Paige sighs dramatically. While Azzi has spent the past thirty minutes stressing, carefully picking an outfit that will be cute, reasonable for the weather, and won’t wrinkle during the two-hour car ride to the next town over, Paige has been sitting peacefully on the bed, making unhelpful comments and showing Azzi TikToks every two minutes.

“At least do your makeup there. It’ll sweat off during the car ride.”

“I have a good setting spray.”

“Azziii, for real, I wanna get on the road,” Paige says, practically whining at this point.

Sighing, Azzi shakes her head, knowing she’s going to lose this argument no matter what. “Okay, fine. But still—my outfit.”

Paige, apparently deciding to be helpful, rolls off the bed and sits beside Azzi by her suitcase. “You got so many outfits to choose from.”

“None of them are working.”

“Just wear basketball shorts like me.”

Unfortunately, Azzi isn’t sure she’s masc enough to get away with basketball shorts, a sports bra, and an oversized button-up quite like Paige can. But Paige wouldn’t understand that.

“What about these jeans?” Azzi asks instead of answering Paige’s suggestion.

“Nah,” Paige says, “it’s s’posed to be hot tonight. Wear shorts.”

“Okay…” digging around, Azzi finds a little pair of shorts she isn’t really sure why she brought—she could never wear them around Paige’s family. With all the rips in the front, and the way it hugs her ass, it’s not exactly family-friendly. But for a party…

Spotting the way Azzi’s hand is lingering over the shorts, Paige grabs them up and holds them in front of her. She appraises them for a moment before putting them in Azzi’s lap. “These.”

“You think?” Azzi hesitates.

“Yup,” Paige replies simply. “Think they’re cute. And you won’t overheat.”

With some more help from Paige, Azzi finally ends up in an outfit that the two of them have deemed suitable for the occasion.

(“Are you sure it’s not too…slutty?” Azzi had asked, looking at herself in the mirror—Paige came up behind her and brushed her hands over her waist and said, “Nah, looks perfect on you,” and Azzi’s decision was made.)

Now, an hour later, only halfway through their mini road trip, Azzi highly regrets the tiny shorts and tinier top.

From the driver’s seat, Paige side-eyes her and smirks when she sees her wriggling around for the millionth time, trying to get comfortable. “You all good?”

“These are up my butt,” Azzi complains, pulling at the hem of her shorts.

“So I’ve heard.”

“Paige!” Azzi’s top begins to slip and she yanks it up, frustrated. “This is uncomfortable.”

“I told you to get ready at the hotel.”

Azzi should’ve been prepared for the I told you so, but it still makes her mad and she crosses her arms, staring out the window with what she’s sure is a mean pout.

Paige reaches over to tug on one of Azzi’s braids. “You sulking over there?”

“No,” Azzi replies, even though she very much is.

There’s a moment of silence, and Azzi is beginning to think Paige is done with the conversation before she says, “Why don’t you just take ‘em off?”

Azzi can’t help but laugh a little at that. “You wish.”

“I’m serious,” Paige replies, and with a quick glance at her side-profile Azzi realizes she’s telling the truth.

“You really want me to strip in your car?” Azzi teases, and before, this is something Paige would’ve laughed at before playfully flirting back. But now, Paige’s eyes widen and dart over to her, and Azzi is maybe not completely teasing.

“Chill,” Paige replies simply, voice betraying nothing even though the blush on her cheeks says otherwise. “Just don’t wanna hear you complaining for the rest of the drive.”

Of course, Azzi is not going to take off her shorts. Things between her and Paige are already weird and, not to mention, she’s wearing a thong. It would be crazy. It would be inappropriate.

But these shorts are really tight. And they still have an hour to go. And maybe Paige would give her The Look, the one Azzi hates and doesn’t understand but is also coming to associate with those charged moments between them, the moments where things shift and change and it seems as if any minute one of them is going to surge forward and—

Slowly, Azzi reaches across herself, and unbuckles her seatbelt.

Paige’s breath hitches. “What’re you doing?”

Azzi hums, and her fingers move to her own stomach, letting them trail down playfully to the button of her jeans, watching Paige’s eyes go from her to the road and back. “Just taking your advice.”

“Oh,” Paige says.

Azzi pulls the zipper down.

The two of them have seen each other in various states of undress countless times before—last year, Paige got so drunk that Azzi even had to help her out of her clothes completely and into the shower. But Paige was laughing and rambling and tripping everywhere and Azzi’s sole focus was on making sure she didn’t slip and crack her head on the shower tiles.

Azzi’s never given herself the opportunity to look the way she really wants to. And she’s been operating under the fact that she would never be looked at the way she wants to be, either.

But now, as she lifts her hips off the seat and wriggles out of these tight little shorts, Paige is looking. She’s looking so hard they might crash.

The shorts slide down her leg, dangle around one of her ankles. Azzi lifts her foot and delicately plucks it off. Tosses it into the backseat.

Paige’s hand twitches on the center console. Fingers splaying wide open like they need something to do.

Azzi has spent practically her whole life giving Paige whatever she wants, because that’s what you do when you’re in love with somebody, isn’t it? And so there’s really no thought to it when she takes Paige’s hand. Nothing tentative in the way she lifts their joint hands, pulls them into her lap. No hesitation when she presses Paige’s palm into her bare thigh.

Paige is staring firmly ahead now. The hand still on the wheel is fisted tight, knuckles bloodless. And when she mutters Azzi’s name, it’s quiet but unmistakable.

For the first time, knowing that Paige can see her in her peripheral vision, Azzi lets herself look. Lets herself study the flutter of her lashes, the slope of her nose, the pink of her lips. Her sharp jawline, her furrowed brows, her neck and collarbones. And then her eyes travel back up to Paige’s, admiring the blue shamelessly as she whispers, “You can touch me, Paige.”

Paige’s throat bobs. Her fingers twitch. And then, slowly but surely, they dance over Azzi’s skin. Azzi gasps softly when they brush the inside of her thigh, and that seems to encourage Paige because her hand travels higher, up to wear her shorts would’ve been covering, tips of her fingers getting so fucking close to where Azzi has wanted her for so long.

And then she stops. Straightens her shoulders and focuses more sternly on the road, but her hand stays firmly put before it squeezes just a little bit.

Azzi’s eyes flutter shut.

They may or may not spend the rest of the car ride just like that.

————————————————

Even before they step inside, Azzi can already tell how bumping this party is. Loud music blasts from behind the front door, and flashing LED lights shine through the curtains on the windows. For the first time, Azzi gets a little nervous—with parties, Paige usually finds some random people to branch off with while Azzi hangs out with whatever team members came with them. Now, with just the two of them, Azzi worries about being left in a corner with a red solo cup and a headache. The thought makes her turn to Paige.

Paige, mid-reach for the doorknob, pauses when she clocks Azzi’s anxious expression. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I just—“ Azzi sighs, then clutches onto Paige’s arm, glancing nervously toward the front door and the party that lurks within. “Don’t leave me tonight, okay?”

Paige smiles softly, and Azzi thinks briefly that friends don’t look at each other this way. “I won’t, ma. Promise.”

And Azzi believes her.

When they finally get inside, Azzj counts on them being able to slip in unnoticed, considering how many people must be crammed into this house. But, to her surprise, they’ve barely even shut the door behind them before the foyer—and the open living room beyond—absolutely erupts. People were laughing and talking and singing before, but now there’s straight-up screaming as young adults crowd around the two of them, whooping and hollering and saying things like “Lil Paigey in da house!”

Paige laughs, waving people off as she reunites with old friends, and the crowd seems to be trying to separate them but Paige wraps her arms firmly around Azzi’s waist and doesn’t let go.

After a minute, the crowd calms down, letting Paige’s cousins come up and give her hugs, the three girls squealing (Azzi doesn’t think she’s ever heard Paige squeal before) as they gush about how much they missed each other and how good they look and Azzi almost misses it when one of them says, “Oh my god, hi! Cousin-in-law!” before she’s the one being attacked with hugs.

“I’m so happy we finally get to meet you!” One of them—Avery, Azzi thinks—says quite loudly in her ear.

The other one—Lauren—squeezes her so hard she almost lifts her off the ground. “You’re so pretty! Look at her, holy shit, you’re so pretty!”

After the initial shock, Azzi can’t help but laugh, the excitement from these two girls nothing if not contagious.

After a few seconds, Paige pulls them off her, gathering her right back into her side once she’s free. “Chill on her, we just got here!”

Standing beside Paige, and in front of these two girls, all three of which have matching smiles, blue eyes, and blonde hair, it’s sort of like seeing triple.

“Sorry, we’re just—we’ve been so excited to meet you,” Avery says, cheeks flushed as she grins warmly at her.

Lauren nods in agreement. “P has been gatekeeping you, for real!”

Azzi grins quizzically up at Paige, who shakes her head, thumb rubbing over Azzi’s waist. “Nah, y’all have her social media. I just didn’t wanna share my pictures of her.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, slapping Paige’s stomach with the back of her hand before turning to her cousins. “It’s really good to meet y’all, too.”

The two girls beam at her before reaching for her, each of them taking a hand and tugging.

Paige holds fast to her waist. “Hey, where y’all tryna take her?”

“Relax, we need to give her a grand tour!” Avery says. Azzi wouldn’t mind leaving Paige’s side just as long as she’s with these two girls, but Paige seems to have other opinions about it, if the way she’s relentlessly holding onto her says anything.

“I can come with you,” Paige protests.

“No, P, how are we gonna tell her your embarrassing stories if you’re around?” Lauren jokes, dramatically rolling her eyes.

Paige holds on even tighter at this, and Azzi sort of feels like the rope in a game of tug o’ war. “No way!”

“Paigeee,” Avery whines.

“Yo, for real, gimme my girlfriend back.”

Azzi nudges Paige with her elbow. “I’m good, P.”

Paige looks down at her incredulously. “What happened to, ‘Paige, don’t leave me, I’m sooo nervous’?” Paige asks, all whiny and flirty as she mocks her.

Azzi frowns. “That’s not how I sound!”

Finally, in her moment of distraction, Avery and Lauren manage to wrench Azzi out of Paige’s iron grip. “We’ll take good care of her, Paigey,” Avery assures, slinging her arm around Azzi’s shoulder. “Don’t even worry.”

Paige glares at the two of them, arm outstretched like she’s hoping Azzi will fall right into her, and she can’t lie, she’s more than tempted to.

But she also wants to hear those embarrassing stories her cousins were talking about.

“Go make her a drink or something,” Lauren calls over her shoulder as they whisk her away. “We’ll bring her back soon!”

Azzi sends a sheepish smile and wave her way, giggling when Paige flips her off. Maybe this night will be fun, after all.

————————————————

The tour only lasts around fifteen minutes, but by the time they’re finished, Azzi is missing Paige desperately. She thinks they may be getting a little too attached, but then, haven’t they always been?

When she finally spots Paige, man-spreading on a couch holding two cups, the relief only lasts for a second because then she notices that she is sitting next to a very pretty girl. A very pretty girl with dark skin and dark hair and a gold, glinting nose ring and a laugh that tinkles all the way across the room, even over the raucous noise.

“Oh, boy, look who found Paige,” Lauren grumbles beside Azzi.

Azzi looks over at her. “Who is that?”

“That’s Amariah,” Avery replies. “She grew up in Paige’s neighborhood.”

Amariah. The name rings a bell somewhere far back in Azzi’s memory.

“She’s had a huge crush on Paige for, like, ever,” Lauren goes on.

“And then, when Paige came up during Spring break in junior year, there was this party and they hooked up,” Avery says, and that’s when it clicks.

Amariah, of course. Azzi remembers the call she’d gotten that night, the way Paige’s cheeks were bright red as she told Azzi the whole story of how she’d slept with some random girl at a party. More than anything, Azzi remembers the jealousy, hot and heavy, that had burned in her stomach, and she remembers the way she’d ended the call early only to get no sleep that night—thinking of Paige with another girl.

“Is that so,” Azzi replies.

“Uh-huh,” Avery says. “I’d go get my girl if I were you.”

That’s exactly what she does.

Smiling gratefully at the two girls, Azzi begins making her way through the crowd, marching to the other end of the living room. Paige doesn’t even notice her walking their way, apparently too engrossed in whatever amazing thing Amariah has to talk about. It’s only when she’s a couple feet away that Paige looks up and sees her, and the way she absolutely beams almost makes up for everything. Almost.

“Hey, Az,” Paige says when she gets close enough to hear. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” Azzi replies, unable to keep from smiling back at her best friend. “That my drink?”

“Uh-huh. Been waiting for you.” Paige hands Azzi’s drink to her, then pats her lap, and it takes Azzi a moment to realize that Paige wants her to sit there. Her body starts moving before her mind can catch up, sitting herself sideways on Paige’s lap, skin heating up when Paige’s arm finds its place around her waist. “My cousins bother you?”

Azzi shakes her head, wrapping an arm around Paige’s neck and looking down at her. Their faces are close, noses practically touching, and she can see every detail of Paige’s features, the makeup gracing her eyes and lips and cheeks. Azzi wants so badly to kiss her, and Paige looks like she might be leaning in…

A cough. Loud and intrusive, and it’s not even really a cough—it’s an “Ahem.”

Paige, apparently remembering herself, tears her eyes away from Azzi’s to look over at Amariah. “Oh, my bad, I forgot y’all have never met.”

“We haven’t,” Amariah says, not so much smiling as she is baring her teeth. “Who’s this, Paigey?”

“I’m Azzi,” she says before Paige can introduce her.

“You play at UConn, too, right?” Amariah asks, and Paige and Azzi both nod. “Didn’t know you were comin’ up with P this summer.”

It’s likely been at least a year since Paige saw this girl, and yet she’s calling her Paigey and P like they’re best friends. It makes her tug on Paige’s neck, pulling her head closer almost protectively.

“Couldn’t leave her,” Paige says, and this time, when Azzi looks down at her, Paige does kiss her. Just a peck on the lips, but it makes Azzi take two large swigs from what tastes like the straight vodka in her cup. “Right, baby?”

“Mm,” Azzi hums around the alcohol in her mouth.

“Cool,” Amariah says in a tone that implies she deems nothing about this cool. And even with Azzi so obviously laying her claim, and Paige so obviously all dopey for her, she still has the audacity to scoot a little closer, brushing her hand flirtatiously against Paige’s shoulder. “So, where were we? You were about to tell me that story, from school?”

“Oh, uh,” Paige gives Azzi one last long look before turning back to Amariah, “yeah. Yeah, sorry, lemme try to remember…”

She knows it’s silly, but Azzi is furious. At Amariah, for thinking she has even the slightest chance with Paige, and at Paige, for talking to this girl when she has Azzi literally in her lap.

Azzi finishes off the vodka in her cup, letting it burn her throat and warm her belly. And then, instead of asking Paige to set it on the side table for her, she shifts, swinging her leg over Paige’s and sitting up on her knees so that she’s straddling her, and she barely catches Paige’s shocked expression before she’s leaning over and setting her cup down.

“You finished with that, babe?” she asks Paige, and Paige nods wordlessly, handing Azzi her empty cup. When Azzi leans over again, she knows her tits are fully in Paige’s face.

With both their hands free, Azzi settles back down, sitting fully on Paige, arms around her shoulders. Paige smiles a little wide-eyed up at her, hands resting low on her hips. But then she turns right back to Amariah and continues her story.

What the hell?

Azzi watches Paige’s side profile as she speaks, looking at her just like she looked at her in the car earlier—and the thought of the car, the heat between Azzi’s legs and Paige’s fingers so close to her, possesses her to lean forward and press her lips to Paige’s cheek.

Paige doesn’t respond, doesn’t even falter in her story-telling, but her thumbs start rubbing circles on Azzi’s hips.

So, Azzi kisses her again. And then again higher on her cheekbone, then to the spot beside her ear, and now she’s sort of just trailing slow, sensual kisses across Paige’s jawline, completely unsure how she got here but not about to stop anytime soon.

Paige’s hands slide to the small of her back, clasping behind her like she’s holding her in place. Azzi moves Paige’s hair—which is down, and Azzi loves when Paige wears her hair down—out of the way before placing a tentative, soft kiss on her neck.

Finally, Paige falters. Just a little, probably not even noticeable to Amariah—who is glaring daggers into the side of Azzi’s head, where she’s buried in Paige’s neck.

Gaining confidence from the way Paige’s hands begin rubbing her back, Azzi trails a hot path down the column of her throat and back up, practically licking her way up to Paige’s earlobe before she sucks on it, letting out the quietest, breathiest moan into Paige’s ear.

Paige gasps, but she doesn’t stop telling her stupid fucking story.

Her hands, however, find their way to Azzi’s ass.

Pleased with herself, Azzi takes Paige’s button-up and pushes it off her left shoulder, giving her so much access. She’s on a roll now, and Paige’s hands on her ass feel so good, voice lulling so nicely in her ears even though it’s another girl she’s talking to.

It’s practically feverish, the way she latches onto Paige’s shoulder. Scrapes her teeth against it, bites it, and then sucks. Hard.

Paige stiffens, squeezes her ass.

Azzi doesn’t pull away for what must be an entire minute. And when she does, she opens her eyes, studies the bright-red mark like she’s an artist and this is the best piece of her life. She knows that’ll be purple by tomorrow, and she’s too tipsy to care.

She goes back in and soothes her tongue over the spot, tasting the salt and perfume on Paige’s skin—god, how long has she wanted to taste Paige, just like this? Since she was fourteen? And now she’s finally doing it, and maybe she should suck another hickey into her neck, just for good measure, just to show this bitch Amariah who Paige really belongs to—

“Az,” Paige says into her ear.

Azzi shoots up, and her voice is raspy when she says, “Yeah?”

It’s then that she takes note of how flushed Paige is, how her chest is heaving with each breath she takes. She looks so good like this. Azzi can’t help but lean forward, nuzzling their noses together.

“Hey,” Paige says softly, squeezing her ass which does horrible things to her mind, “why don’t you get us another drink, mama?”

Azzi pouts at her. She does not want to leave this lap.

“I know,” Paige says even though she didn’t even say anything. “I just…” she leans forward until her mouth is beside Azzi’s ear, “can’t hold it together like this. I need a sec, okay?”

And that knowledge—that she has an affect on Paige—turns her mood right around. “Okay, okay.” Reluctantly, she slides off Paige’s lap, straightening out her shorts. “I’ll be right back.” And, somewhat smugly, she looks at Amariah, who is practically fuming at this point. “You want anything?”

“Nah,” Amariah says through gritted teeth. “I’m all good.”

“‘Kay,” Azzi says happily.

She’s not sure, but she swears she hears Paige say, “Thanks, baby,” on her way out.

Fire spreads low in her belly.

————————————————

Later, they find themselves on the floor, all over each other while a couple other girls sit with them. They’re using the drinks they’ve had as an excuse to be practically in each other’s laps, flirting and giggling like nobody’s business—even if they’re kind of making it everybody else’s business with how many people have clocked them tonight.

“Can y’all stop mating for a couple seconds?” Avery asks good-naturedly, elbowing Azzi.

Reluctantly, the two of them pull away from each other, but Paige’s arm stays slung around Azzi’s hips.

“Okay, y’all know what I wanna do?” says one of the girls. There’s only a handful of them, all circled up and pressed together on the living room floor while people party around them. “I wanna play truth or drink.”

“Fun!” Lauren says. “We should do it.”

“Okay, Paige.” This is another girl—Paige introduced them earlier but Azzi doesn’t remember her name. “What’s your body count?”

Paige glances over at Azzi, then uses her free hand to take a drink from the bottle of Malibu they’ve been sharing.

“You keeping secrets from me?” Azzi teases, not nearly as bothered by this as she would be if she were sober.

Paige purses her lips, moving her head from side to side. “There mighta been a few girls I never told you about.”

Azzi gasps, even though she can’t really bring herself to care about other girls—not when Paige is all over her like this. “You gotta tell me later!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Paige replies, cheeky little smile and all. Azzi wants so badly to kiss her.

“Love to see Paige isn’t in her hoe era anymore.” The last girl—Azzi actually remembers this one’s name, it’s Riley—laughs.

“It’s about time she wifed Azzi,” Lauren says. “With how damn much she talks about her.”

All the girls nod, and the one whose name Azzi can’t remember says, “Can we blame her, though? Look at her.”

And then they’re all turning to Azzi, cooing and giggling about how pretty she is and about how ‘if Paige didn’t lock you down I would’ve.’

Paige pulls Azzi into her side. “This one’s mine, y’all can get your own!”

Everybody laughs and the game continues. A couple rounds down, when everybody has gotten a chance to both spill secrets and drink a little bit, Azzi gets asked the most personal question thus far, from Avery: “Out of all the people you’ve slept with, who gave the best head?”

Everybody giggles and Azzi is tipsy and not in her right mind so, instead of making something up, she tells the truth, which is, “I’ve actually never gotten head before.”

Everybody stops laughing, looking at her like their jaws might hit the floor. And then Paige is staring at her wide-eyed and she remembers, they’re dating, and she knows enough to know that Paige is an eater, and if the two of them were actually together she’d probably be getting head, like, three times a day.

So she covers it up with a laugh, waving them all off. “I’m kidding. I think you all know the answer to that,” she says, wishing more than anything she were telling the truth.

Paige kisses her cheek. But as somebody else gets asked a question, she’s still got her brows furrowed in Azzi’s direction, and Azzi wonders what she’s thinking so hard about.

For some unknown reason, she can’t wait to get to the hotel tonight.

—————————————————

The two of them don’t actually leave the party until close to one in the morning. They get far too caught up in beer pong, in dancing—in each other.

When they finally get to the hotel, they’re drunk, but not wasted. Thanks to Avery for making them have a glass of water in between each drink.

Of course, Azzi would rather not be wasted. It’s no fun. She loves this light, swaying feeling that comes with being the right amount of drunk.

But with the way Paige has been looking at her all night, she needs to be more inebriated.

It’s only a couple minutes since they arrived at their hotel room and Paige seems to be thinking the same thing. After she takes off her shoes, she flops face-first onto the bed and says, “Wanna be more drunk right now.”

Azzi giggles, walking towards her best friend and sitting cross-legged next to her. “Me too.”

Paige lifts her head. “Think they have champagne in here or sum’?”

Azzi shakes her head.

Paige sits up and makes to get off the bed. “Nah, I’m sure they do—“

Azzi grabs Paige’s wrist. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, pulling Paige to sit beside her. “I just mean…we don’t need to drink more.”

Paige sighs dramatically. “Yeah, I guess you’re probably right.”

“No, silly.” Azzi giggles again. She is so in love with her, cluelessness and all. “I mean…” she reaches into her pocket. And then she pulls out the joint Lauren gifted her earlier. Pre-rolled and everything.

Paige’s eyes light up. “Did you…” she laughs, “steal that?”

“No!” Azzi replies, whacking Paige on the arm. “Nah, your cousin gave it to me. She’s so sweet, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige says, rolling off the bed and rummaging through her overnight bag.

Azzi lays back against the sheets. “Paigey?”

“Yeah?”

“What’re you doing down there?”

“Nothin’, mama, just tryna find—yes!” Paige stands and Azzi leans up on her elbows to watch her get back into bed. She’s holding something square and bright purple in one hand as she crawls rather seductively toward Azzi. “Lighter,” she explains when she gets close.

Azzi smiles widely, excitement bubbling in her belly.

“Hold it up,” Paige instructs, and Azzi does, bringing the joint to her lips, making dangerous eye contact as Paige lights it.

Azzi feels herself relax even before the first puff hits her system. Paige stays close and the smoke blows right into her face, making both of them laugh. Paige stares at her for a moment before saying, “Lemme go open the windows.”

While she’s gone, Azzi takes another two drags, and Paige narrows her eyes as she hops back on the bed. “Aight, slow down. Puff, puff, pass.”

Azzi smiles slyly as she passes the joint, watching Paige smoke it. Paige leans back on her free hand and Azzi lets her eyes rove over her covered shoulders, her sports bra, her stomach.

“Eyes up here,” Paige says, handing it back.

Azzi makes a face, too inebriated to care that she’s been caught.

“You wanna see ‘em?” Paige asks.

Azzi coughs a little on the smoke, “See what?”

Paige raises her eyebrows, then begins undoing her button-up before pushing it off her shoulders. And there, on her left shoulder, are three red marks, already darkening after just a couple hours.

“Huh,” Azzi says, taking another drag, “coulda sworn I only left one.”

Paige snatches the joint back. “Quit hogging this shit!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Azzi would usually roll her eyes, but that would entail taking her gaze from the hickeys on Paige’s skin and she’s not willing to do that for even a second.

“They’re brutal, huh?” Paige asks after two puffs.

Azzi shrugs, leaning up a little more on her elbows when she realizes she’s sliding down. She takes the joint and it hovers near her lips as she says, “I’ve done worse.”

Something flares in Paige’s eyes at that. “To who?”

“Dunno.” When Paige raises her eyebrows, Azzi does it right back, handing the blunt over. “What? You’re not the only one who had a hoe era.”

“Didn’t hear too much about yours,” Paige mumbles, smoking and then giving it back, fumbling for her phone as Azzi takes a puff.

A moment later, R&B starts crooning through the room. “That’s because it’s private, P.”

“Mm-hmm.” The joint is short now as Paige takes it back. “Were you being for real? Earlier?”

Azzi closes her eyes, leaning her head back. “About what?”

“That you’ve never gotten head.”

“Yeah,” Azzi responds. “I was being for real.”

“Hm.” Paige nudges Azzi, and she opens her eyes for another smoke. “Why not?”

“Dunno.”

“There’s no way nobody’s wanted to before.”

“Yeah, it’s not that.” Azzi’s eyes are hooded now as she looks into Paige’s red ones, hands uncoordinated as she hands the blunt back. “I just…I say no, when they offer.”

“Because you don’t want it?”

“Because it’s scary.”

Paige frowns at the joint, which only has a drag left in it now. “What’s scary about it?”

“It’s so…personal.” Azzi shrugs. “I’ve never trusted a stranger enough for that.”

Paige nods, still staring at the blunt. Azzi doesn’t think she’s listening anymore. “That thing almost gone?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” Paige looks at her, then back at the joint. “Here, lay back.”

Azzi grins. “Why?”

“Bro, trust.”

Azzi does. So she lays back, watching as Paige lazily crawls on top of her, straddling her legs.

Azzi’s hands move on their own accord, pressing into Paige’s stomach just to feel the muscle there.

With her free hand, Paige moves her hand to Azzi’s chin. “Open your mouth, mama.”

There’s smoke in the air, pressure between her legs. Azzi squirms to try to relieve it.

“Az,” Paige says, and Azzi’s eyes snap to her at the stern tone. “Open.”

Azzi obeys without hesitating, and she’s too groggy to be surprised when Paige puts her thumb in her mouth, humming a little.

She doesn’t even need to be told before she closes her mouth around it and sucks.

Paige sighs, blunt damn near about to go out as she rocks her hips up against Azzi’s crotch just slightly. “So good for me, hm?”

Azzi nods, trying her best to keep her eyes open as she laves her tongue around Paige’s thumb. They hold eye contact for another moment before Paige remembers the joint and takes the last pull.

Azzi feels a little betrayed, thinking this was just a trick to get the last smoke, but then Paige is leaning down, pulling her thumb out and using it instead to hold her mouth open, before pressing their lips together, shotgunning the smoke directly into Azzi’s lungs.

It’s the easiest drag Azzi’s ever taken.

Azzi is only sort of aware that Paige doesn’t pull away once Azzi inhales. She’s only sort of aware that Paige’s tongue is taking advantage of her open mouth, licking into her for the first time, letting Azzi’s teeth graze over it while they kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy.

Azzi’s heart races when Paige’s hands begin to wander, feeling them go from her throat to her shoulders to her tits, where they hover.

“You good?” Paige mumbles against her. Azzi nods.

Paige squeezes her tits, fisting them up and then brushing her thumbs against her nipples, hard underneath her thin shirt and bra.

“Love your tits,” Paige mumbles, pulling away to kiss down her neck, reminiscent of their moment at the party earlier.

“Yeah?” Azzi breathes.

“Yeah, fuck.” Paige’s breath is hot over Azzi’s neck and she tilts her head to the side, moving her braids out of the way.

“Can’t believe what you pulled tonight,” Paige says, leaning down to nip at Azzi’s shoulders.

“On the couch?” Azzi asks. She can’t help but grin thinking about it.

“You got me all worked up in front of everyone,” Paige’s hands move down to Azzi’s stomach, playing with her belly piercing while she sucks hard at the place she just bit.

“Mm,” Azzi says, closing her eyes and letting the memory, paired with the feeling of Paige’s hands and lips, overtake her. “Couldn’t help it. You were talkin’ to that girl.”

“Yeah, fuck—so needy when you’re jealous, huh?” Paige asks, kissing at Azzi’s cleavage. “That’s so hot.”

“You’re so hot,” Azzi breathes. Under normal circumstances, she’d never boost her best friend’s already huge ego like this. But this is the farthest thing from normal circumstances.

Paige smirks against her skin, the cocky bastard. “Yeah? You think so?”

“Shut up,” Azzi responds, gasping when Paige sucks a mark into the top of her breast.

“This outfit—so fuckin’ slutty,” she says, biting at the sensitive mark she just made.

“You picked it,” Azzi reminds Paige, holding onto her shoulders in an attempt to ground herself.

“I changed my mind. Don’t want anybody to look at you, ever fuckin’ again.”

Azzi laughs breathily at this. “Want me all to yourself?”

Paige lifts her head up to meet her lips again, her arms wrapping around Azzi’s back and arching her off the bed, pulling her close. “You know I do,” she says, pulling back from the kiss to look at Azzi with something like reverence. “All mine.”

Azzi isn’t. All hers, that is. Not really. Not even now. Not knowing that all of this is pretend.

But, maybe Azzi has been all her’s since the day they met. Maybe, years ago, a piece of her heart escaped her own chest and made a home happily in Paige’s, and maybe it will be there forever.

So she nods. “All yours, P.”

Paige smiles so, so big at her, and when they kiss again they’re both giggling, not even really kissing at this point.

“Wait, Paige,” Azzi laughs as Paige’s hand moves to her ass, “what’re we doing?”

“Kissing,” Paige replies.

“Duh, I knew that, genius,” Azzi says, flicking Paige’s forehead, which makes both of them dissolve into giggles again.

“But, seriously,” Azzi continues once she’s gathered herself. “You’re my best friend.”

“And you’re mine,” Paige says, nuzzling their noses together.

“Do you think it’s—like, okay? That we’re doing this?”

Paige licks her lips, pressing another kiss to Azzi’s. “We can say…we’re just practicing. We said we’d practice, remember?”

Azzi nods, remembering that conversation that feels so long ago now. “We did.”

“So, this is us practicing.” Paige kisses her again, “And it has nothing—“ another kiss, “to do with the fact that I love—“ yet another one, “kissing you.”

Azzi laughs, squirming away. “Paige!”

“Hmm,” Paige responds, eyes wandering down Azzi’s body.

“Hey,” Paige says after a moment, “do you trust me?”

Azzi brushes a strand of hair out of Paige’s face before cupping her cheek, smiling when Paige leans into her. “More than anyone.”

“So…” Paige smiles deviously, ducking down to press more kisses into the tops of Azzi’s breasts, “would you let me go down on you?”

Azzi laughs at the pure absurdity of the question. “P, don’t play like that.”

“I’m being so deadass,” Paige says, and when Azzi looks down, Paige is already looking at her. There’s no mirth in her tone, in her eyes.

Azzi’s stomach tumbles. “…Seriously?”

Paige nods.

“You…” Azzi furrows her brows, “want to?”

Paige leans up, kisses her tenderly on the lips. “You have no fucking idea.”

That is new information. New and insane and something she will work through tomorrow, when she’s sober.

Right now, all she can think of is the ache that’s been between her legs all night. And the way Paige could help her with it.

“Please,” Paige mutters against her lips, “wanna make you feel so good, baby.”

Azzi looks at her best friend. Her swollen lips, the hickies on her shoulder, her tousled hair.

And she says, “Okay.”

Paige’s eyes light up, and she wastes no time clarifying. Her hands go straight to Azzi’s top, making quick eye contact and pulling it off when Azzi smiles at her.

“Fuck,” Paige says, staring at Azzi’s tits through her lacy bra.

Azzi watches her with amusement, running her hands through Paige’s hair. “You’re no better than a man.”

“I’m not,” Paige agrees, leaning down to litter kisses over all the newly exposed skin. Feeling her lips over her warm skin is good, but it’s not…enough.

“Paige, can you…”

Paige’s eyes dart up to her, searching her face. “You want me to?”

“Uh-huh.”

Paige’s hands move up from her lower back to her bra clasp, and Azzi lifts slightly off the bed to make it easier. Paige makes quick work of it and then she’s sliding that down her shoulders, throwing it across the room like it’s offended her.

Azzi’s hazy as fuck, high and floaty and carefree, but when Paige looks down at Azzi and stares, everything suddenly feels too scary, too vulnerable. She moves to cover herself up, but Paige catches her wrists, pressing a kiss against each of them, eyes darting back to Azzi’s with a comforting smile. “You okay?”

Azzi nods, then shakes her head, then squeezes her eyes shut, embarrassed. “You’re just—looking at me.”

“I am,” Paige says, and Azzi hates the way she sounds slightly amused. “Az, look at me, for real.”

Reluctantly, Azzi does, and Paige’s eyes are all red and hooded and the smile on her face is dopey and she looks faded as hell, but this is still her best friend. The one who knows her, who sees her—who is seeing her like this, right now—and who still continues to be her best friend.

“I’ll stop looking, if you want,” Paige murmurs, leaning down to brush her lips against Azzi’s ear. “But I don’t think you want that, do you?”

The ache between her legs is nearly painful at this point. Truthfully, Azzi shakes her head.

“You look good, Az,” Paige responds, pulling away and leaning back down to her tits. “So fuckin’ pretty.”

She looks up through her lashes as she leans down and suckles a nipple into her mouth.

Azzi sighs at the first real contact of the night, hands fisting Paige’s hair to pull her impossibly closer, hips bucking up on their own accord.

Paige holds her down, mumbling at her to be patient while she trails kisses over to her other tit, licking around it and flicking her tongue over her nipple before she sucks a mark into the skin just beside it.

“Paige,” Azzi gasps, cradling her best friend’s head close. “Feels so good, oh my God.”

“Yeah?” Paige asks, grazing her teeth over Azzi’s sensitive nipple. Azzi keens, hips fighting against Paige to reach up, looking for any type of friction. It makes her chuckle against Azzi’s skin. “She wants me so bad, huh?”

“Don’t refer to it as she,” Azzi giggles, and Paige laughs, too.

“I’ll say whatever I wanna say,” Paige replies, laughing a bit as her kisses stray further down Azzi’s chest, head bobbing a little to the music in the background while she kisses her languidly.

Azzi smiles down at the top of her head. “This is so crazy.”

“What?” Paige licks around Azzi’s belly piercing, not stopping her when she bucks up this time. “That I’m bouta go down on you?”

Azzi nods, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. “Yeah. Isn’t it crazy?”

“Uh-huh,” Paige replies, sucking a mark into Azzi’s abs. “Knew I’d do this someday, though.”

Azzi pushes her shoulder playfully. “You did not.”

“Did too.” She smiles devilishly, wiggling her eyebrows while she kisses around the mark she’s made. “You couldn’t resist me if you tried.”

“Shut up,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes.

“Nah,” Paige replies, fingers moving to the button of her jean shorts and fumbling with it. “And you better fix your attitude.”

“What, before you fix it for me?” Azzi asks, lifting her hips to help Paige pull the shorts down.

“Careful,” Paige responds, throwing the shorts somewhere across the room. “Might have to fuck it outta you.”

Azzi nearly whines at the mere thought, and then Paige spreads her legs wide and places open-mouthed kisses on the inside of her thigh, and she really does whine.

Paige bites the soft flesh there, soothing her hands up Azzi’s stomach as she does so.

Azzi’s head falls back once again, because she’s worried if she keeps looking at Paige she’ll come just from this.

“Mm,” Paige hums into her thigh, licking a long stripe up to where she needs her, tongue stopping just shy of her core. “Watchu want, baby? Want me to eat this pussy?”

Azzi’s hips cant up at the words, a breathy moan escaping her lips. “Yes, shit, want you so bad.”

“Know you do,” Paige coos, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s cunt, clothed only in her thong. “So fuckin’ sexy.”

Azzi swears she’s actually floating at this point, levitating off the bed from Paige’s words, her touch, which has gotta be magic.

“Take them—off,” Azzi insists, hands going to the waistband of her panties to do it herself, but Paige stops her.

“I gotchu,” she mutters, kissing down her legs while she pulls the thong down Azzi’s leg, and it soon joins the rest of her clothes on the hotel room floor.

She sits back on her knees, hands rubbing Azzi’s thighs as she admires her, all spread out just for Paige.

And then she bends down and presses the flat of her tongue against Azzi’s dripping cunt.

“Fuck!” Azzi cries out, the sensation against her pussy unfamiliar and sort of odd and so, so good.

Paige licks up her one more time, gathering her wetness before she separates her folds with her fingers and sucks her clit into her mouth, eliciting a surprised gasp from Azzi.

“Good?” she mumbles, pulling back just enough to look up at her.

Azzi nods, pushing her head down urgently. “Uh-huh, just keep going, baby.”

Paige smirks, looping her arms around Azzi’s thighs and pulling her closer, Azzi gasping as she’s jerked forward. She gets back to it, kitten-licking Azzi’s cunt, eyes closed as she tastes her, and then she opens them and groans. “Fuck, Az. Such a pretty fucking pussy.”

A flush settles over Azzi’s entire body at the words, goosebumps popping up over her bare skin even though she’s the farthest thing from cold.

Paige lays one of her hands flat against Azzi’s pelvis, reaching down and using her pointer finger and thumb to keep her spread open while she places filthy, open-mouthed kisses over her cunt, tongue dipping into her like it did her mouth while they were making out. Azzi props herself up on her elbows, chest heaving, wanting to watch. Paige opens her eyes and catches sight of her—hair tossed over one shoulder, tits rising and falling, abs clenching against the pleasure in her core—and groans, sending vibrations straight through Azzi’s pussy.

Paige’s eyes stay open, all hooded and sexy, as she moves her head down and finally dips her tongue inside Azzi’s entrance, pulling a high-pitched whine from her.

Something flashes in Paige’s eyes and Azzi isn’t really sure what happens, but the next thing she knows Paige is burying her entire face in her cunt, tongue fucking up inside of her so good, and Azzi’s head falls back as she lets out a moan that’s downright pornographic. “Oh, feels so good—gonna come, ‘m so close.”

Paige only nods, doubling her efforts and moving her head back and forth, pulling her tongue out to lick repeatedly from her hole to her clit, creating a rhythm that’s absolutely deadly, and then Azzi’s legs are shaking violently, thighs clamping around Paige’s head, and Paige sucks her clit into her mouth and shakes her head, and Azzi practically screams Paige’s name as she comes hard.

Paige eats her through it, slowing down but not stopping, Azzi falling back against the sheets, unable to hold herself up anymore.

“Fuck,” Paige mumbles into her pussy, and when Azzi tilts her head she finds Paige’s mouth and chin shiny with her own slick. “So pretty, mama. Look at you,” she kisses against Azzi’s hole, “comin’ all over my face like that.”

“Paige,” Azzi sighs, reaching down to push Paige’s head away from her overstimulated cunt. Paige doesn’t budge, kissing up to her twitching clit, causing Azzi to jerk. “Baby, it’s too much.”

Paige’s tongue comes back out, licking delicately at her entrance. “Please, Az. One more.”

Azzi shakes her head, holding onto Paige’s hair, trying to close her thighs. “I can’t.”

“Yeah you can,” Paige murmurs against her, nose nuzzling her clit while she tongues her entrance again. “Be such a good girl for me and take it, huh?”

Paige holds Azzi’s thighs firmly open, and Azzi is already dripping again, so that’s that.

Paige digs back in, slurping at Azzi’s impossibly wet cunt, eating her like she’s a woman starved. Azzi is still so sensitive from the last one and it almost hurts when Paige suckles her clit, but it also makes her whine, hips lifting off the bed to hump against Paige’s face.

Paige moans into her, teeth grazing ever-so-slightly against her engorged clit, and that does it—with a weak cry, blonde hair fisted in her hands, Azzi comes for the second time, hips immediately trying to get away as Paige works her through it.

Wiping her face with the back of her hand, Paige crawls back up Azzi’s body, smiling proudly. “Did so good, baby,” she coos, kissing Azzi’s cheek before collapsing next to her, pulling her into her side.

Azzi lets herself be held, tracing her fingers gently over the skin of Paige’s stomach. “You’re good at that.”

“I know, mama,” Paige chuckles.

“Hey…” Azzi presses her hand against Paige’s stomach and lifts herself up so they’re face-to-face, “Paigey, I wanna do you, too.”

Paige stares at her, then shakes her head. “Nah, I’m good, baby.”

“Please?” Azzi pouts. It’s totally unfair that she’s laying here, naked and spent, while Paige is still fully clothed and untouched.

“We gotta go to sleep, it’s getting late,” Paige replies, pulling Azzi back down.

“Why can’t I?” Azzi pries, laying her head on Paige’s chest. “I’d be good, I promise.”

“I know you would,” Paige replies, and she sounds like she means it. “I just…it’s okay. Really.”

Azzi doesn’t argue any more, because Paige is tracing soothing shapes over her back, and slowly but surely she’s being lulled to sleep.

But she does wonder, vaguely, if she will ever get the chance to do this again. And, more pressingly—what this means for them.

—————————————————

The next morning, the first thing Azzi does when she wakes is reach blindly across the bed for something warm and solid and snuggly named Paige.

Her hands fist cold sheets, and her eyes shoot open.

“P?” she calls, listening for sound in the bathroom. No answer.

Azzi looks down at herself, naked and bruised from the waist down.

Fuck. Fuck.

“Paige,” Azzi tries again, rolling out of bed and reaching for her phone. No messages. No note on the bedside table.

Pulling the sheet up to cover herself—even though nobody’s around—she navigates to Paige’s contact and constructs a message:

Hey, where’d you go?

She waits a few minutes for the answer, but when it comes, it’s wholly disappointing:

Went for a run. Be back by eleven.

The period at the end is all too telling.

Paige fucked her last night. And then left her to wake up cold and alone in the morning.

There’s nothing good about this.

@azzibuckets @smiths-fan--13 @ch12334 @makethemhoesmad @the-other-half @rosemariiaa @router2260 @guesswhoitsn @patri-ots87 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @ijustreadignoreme @pazzilover101

also lmk if yall want the songs i listened to while writing *that* scene 😼

[bvlgum]

୨୧ GETTING SHIPPED WITH ANOTHER IDOL

𓇼ㅤ 𓈒ㅤ 삶 ㅤ───ㅤ "   WARNINGS; “ fluff, jealousy, mention of other idols, fem!reader (idk), established relationship,

Making use of my millions of accounts lol, I honestly forgot this account existed but now I’m here :P

MANON

Girly was trying to control her temper the moment a ship edit popped up on her fyp. She opened the comment and typed out. “They’re not together y’all!! They’re probably just friends, who you should be suspecting is manon and yn. I mean don’t they look so cute together?” A sly smirk crept up to her face as she felt proud of herself for typing that on her secret account. More pride shook her when more manyn edits began to pop up.

SOPHIA

Was probably trying her best to seem nonchalant and easy about it the moment a video pops up on her fyp but the her sulky expressions says it all. “Hey yn since when did this happen?” She called out for you rushing to meet you in the kitchen. “Huh what’s that?” You asked trying to get a glimpse of what she was showing on her phone. “Oh ah! It’s my most recent photoshoot why?” You asked trying to stifle in your laughter from looking at her face. “Well I don’t like it! Now people think you and wonyoung have something together” she whined. “Don’t worry baby, it’s just a photoshoot, if you want I could beg my manger to fix one with you soon?” “Omg yes yes yes, I’d love that” her silky expressions immediately vanished and was now replaced with a more cheerful one.

DANIELA

They look so good together “Hmm what an odd thing to say” Daniela watched with a frown as fan gushed about because of the minimum amount of interaction between you and newjeans minji. Meanwhile the both of you are practically flirting on camera and no one seemed to bait an eye. “Do you like her?” Daniela randomly asked out of the blue. “Umm no, she’s just a friend of mine” you answered shrugging off her possessive glare. “Okay that’s nice, don’t let it exceed friendship or else….” She paused with a playful threatening gaze.

LARA

Lara sat on the rolling chair, reading some Wattpad stories like fans had suggested when suddenly a story title caught her eye. She clicked on it and read the title with a straight face. “Y’all whoever wrote this title alone needs to arrive at the asylum right now” she spoke, her lips forming into a think line after. It was like her gaze was solely focused on whatever was on the screen. “I’m gonna report this” she said with a frown. Fans would guess that “oh maybe it was something inappropriate” but in reality it was a ship book of you and a male Kpop idol.

MEGAN

Megan was trying to hold her fake smile the more a fan gushed about how you and lesserafim eunchae would match together. The fan talked about how there was a certain chemistry between you two. Megan had heard enough and decided to cut the convo short. “Do you know who she looks amazing with?” Megan asked a fake glint of excitement in her eyes. “Who?!” The fan asked also feeling a thrill of excitement. “Me”. The fan squealed “oh ye— what?”

YOONCHAE

It all started when she woke up to check her social media and the first thing that pops up was a ship edit of you and newjeans haerin, with the editor adding a soft love song which didn’t help at all. The fans comments even made it worse with comments like; my haeyn 🥹, gosh how much I love seeing them interact on stage it’s so cute. The urge to reply and say “you’re just being delusional she’s with me!!”. Throughout the day you noticed yoonchae acting all sulky and pouty which lead you to confront her about what had happened.

[nonchalantfinalb0ss]

i think i'm in love with you

ꕥ luke castellan x afab!reader

warnings: descriptions of wounds + blood, allusions to sex but no actual smut, shitty writing (i havent wrote a fanfic in multiple years), not proofread cuz im way too lazy, (y/n) isn't used at all in this idk i almost like reading fanfic better without it

summary: you wake up in the middle of the night to strange noises. you find luke outside, with a deep wound in his side. you take him to the lake to take care of him. unfortunately for you, luke's in a teasing mood.

word count: 2.7k

You awoke suddenly to strange noises. Soft groans fell through the walls of your cabin. At first, you assumed it to be something you should be careful not to walk in on. But, as your head cleared up more as you fully woke up, it sounded more like someone who was in pain. 

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you slowly pulled the covers off of your body and stepped into a pair of soft slippers. You carefully weaved through the various beds in the dark towards the door. The groans continued, rendering you more concerned and nervous. You quietly eased the door open, wincing at every squeak it made. You peeked your head outside, searching for the source of the noise.

Through squinted eyes, your attention eventually landed on a certain Hermes boy laid down in the grass. Luke. You quickly shut the door, completely forgetting about keeping quiet, and tip-toe ran across the grass towards the boy. You and Luke had been friends for quite a while. You arrived at camp a month or so after him, and he was the most welcoming one there. While you remained unclaimed in the Hermes cabin for a few months, it didn’t really hurt as much while you were with Luke. He was the perfect distraction and a great friend, although you had begun to wish for something more.

“Luke!” You whisper yelled, causing him to practically jump a foot off the ground. Looking towards the startling voice, he realized it was you. He quickly sat up, his hand placed on his chest as he tried his best to calm his suddenly erratic breathing.

“Oh, thank gods, it’s just you,” he laughed breathlessly, suddenly wincing and placing his hand on his side. His flushed face turned down toward his wound before he threw his head back again, hissing in pain.

“What happened?!” You exclaimed in a panic, running to close the last piece of distance between you both. You quickly fell to your knees next to him, trying to get a good look at whatever was hidden underneath his hand. He attempted to laugh it off but immediately winced and groaned. His hand remained on his side, hiding whatever had happened. “Luke I’ve gotta see..” you tried.

“I’m fine,” he responded, dismissively. He gave you a tightlipped smile in an attempt to reassure you. It did quite the opposite. You reached your hand to pull his away from his side.

“You’re not fine Luke-” His free hand grasped your wrist tightly, preventing you from moving yours any closer to his wound. You stayed silent and unstill, unsure of the situation. In your moment of stillness, your eyes raked over his hand wrapped tightly around yours. The veins in his hand and forearm looked so perfect, especially under the soft moonlight. You wondered what his hand would look like wrapped around your-

“Hey!” Luke snapped his fingers in front of your face, trying to regain your attention.

“Huh?” You responded, clueless and still in a daze, your eyes stuck on his hand around yours. You could have sworn you saw a sly smirk adorn his face from the corner of your eye but you brushed it off. You were tired, you were probably just seeing things. You snapped out of your trance, looking back at his face, confused about everything. “Luke, you’ve gotta let me help you-”

“Princess, I-”

“I have no idea what you did or what happened to you, but I’m worried and you’re being so confusing right now..” You trailed off, avoiding his eyes for a moment. Princess. You hated (loved) when he used that nickname for you. It gave you hope that he could ever feel the same way about you. You heard Luke sigh.

“Okay, I just got in a bit of a fight with an Ares kid.. he pulled a knife on me, got me in the side.. I was clumsy, made a mistake,” he removed his hand from your wrist, prompting you to reconnect your eye contact. “I’m fine and I’ll be more careful next time.” He smiled, trying to dismiss your worries yet again.

“Can you show me?” You asked tentatively. He looked at you and nodded. You noticed that same smirk from earlier, only softer and more hidden. Maybe you hadn’t been imagining things. You watched his hand reach down to the hem of his shirt. Oh shit. You had not thought about that. You internally facepalmed. You were so fucked. His fingers wrapped around the bottom seam of his shirt as he pulled it up about halfway. Your eyes immediately darted to his wound. A seemingly deep gash ran from about the bottom of his ribs to the top of his pelvis. Blood trickled along his already blood covered skin. Oh it looked bad. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, a nervous habit. 

As you examined the bloody gash, your eyes had other ideas. Your gaze slowly moved on to take in his toned abdomen. He had nice abs, prominent, but not so much like those crazy American bodybuilders. They gave you the creeps. His were just the perfect shape, size, and.. everything about him was perfect. While his side was doused in his own blood, the rest of his abdomen was covered in scattered beads of sweat. He looked good. Like really good. Luke’s sharp intake of breath broke you out of your trance. You quickly cleared your throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed you had been examining the rest of his body instead of his injury. 

“I’d ask if you like what you see but.. I’m in a bit of a predicament currently.” Luke chuckled, referring to the bloody gash. Your face flushed red. Shit, he noticed. You fumbled over your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. He watched you, amused, but still very evidently in pain. You abruptly stood up, offering Luke your hand.

“You got a kit or something I can use?” You asked as you carefully pulled him to his feet. His arm landed to rest over your shoulders. You felt the breath leave your body. He was so close. His body heat radiated heavily onto your already heated body. You hoped he couldn’t feel how hot you are, or how loud and hard your heart was beating. His quiet groan brought you back to your senses.

“Yeah I’ve got a kit hidden in the trees near the beach.” He finally answered. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Why.. there?” You asked, genuinely confused. Luke looked down at you as if you should have already known.

“For times like these.” He replied, as if it were obvious. You just shrugged and let him slowly lead you to the beach. The trek through the grass proved a lot more difficult than you had expected. Random bumps and holes in the dirt caused you both to almost fall multiple times.

“Here,” Luke spoke and pointed a few feet in front of you. You nodded and slowly lowered him to the ground, leaning him against the tree. Your hands rummaged and dug through the dirt in search of Luke’s medical kit. Your fingernail eventually scratched along a hard, plastic surface. You dug your hands further into the dirt to pull the case out of the ground.

“I got it!” You sighed in relief. Your hands were becoming increasingly tired from all of the digging. You sat next to Luke, opening the latches of the small box. He smiled at you, watching your every move, completely mesmerized by you. You grabbed the small bottle of rubbing alcohol and popped it open. You opened your mouth to speak, looking up at Luke, only to find him already looking back at you. You quickly looked away, your face flushing a deep crimson. You took a deep breath before allowing yourself to actually speak.

“I’m gonna need you to hold your shirt up above the cut, if you’re comfortable.” You looked back up at Luke, nervously waiting for his response. You shouldn’t have been that nervous, you were just tending to his wound, nothing else. But still, the idea of asking him to lift up his shirt and reveal his really nice abdomen embarrassed you a lot.

“Yeah of course.” He replied in a suddenly husky, low voice. It caught you off guard, causing even more heat to rush to your cheeks.. and to the spot between your legs. He grasped the hem of his orange shirt and pulled it up, revealing the wound again.

“Okay.. this is gonna hurt, but I’ve gotta clean it out somehow.” You warned, slowly starting to pour the rubbing alcohol over the cut. Luke nodded in acknowledgement, hissing immediately as the strong liquid hit his skin. You hadn’t really treated all too many wounds in your lifetime, let alone a cut as deep and bloody as this one. You hoped you were doing it right and you weren’t making it worse. Luke’s harsh groans and hisses weren’t aiding your stressed mind. Throughout the few minutes you spent drenching his side in rubbing alcohol, you noticed him drop his shirt a few times, muttering apologies, saying his hands were having trouble keeping it up. You brushed it off each and every time it happened. 

Once you finally deemed it enough rubbing alcohol, you moved away from his abdomen, grabbing the cap of the bottle. Your shaky hands tried closing the bottle but to no avail. You were stressed and embarrassed, and your entire body was shaking way too much. Luke’s warm hands grasped yours.

“Hey,” He whispered, grabbing your attention. You looked up at him. “I’ve got it.” He smiled at you, and carefully took the bottle from your palms to close it himself. You whispered your thanks under your breath, so quiet, you almost couldn’t hear it yourself. You reached back into the medical kit to pull out a cloth and an antiseptic wipe. You placed your hand on Luke’s cheek. Red slowly started to creep up his neck and into his cheeks, unbeknownst to you.

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna wet the cloth.” You told him, smiling and standing up. 

“You’re too good to me.” Luke said, in that low voice, again. You turned quickly to hide your blush, making your way to the shore, as quick as you could. You dipped the cloth in the cold water and rung it out. You jogged back to Luke at the tree, dropping back onto your knees next to him. You lightly dabbed the cloth around his cut, trying to pick up and clean up the blood all over him. You did your best to avoid pressing into the actual cut, but failed a few times. Luke tried his best to keep his cool, but you could see how much he was hurting. You felt awful. 

Occasionally, Luke would let the hem of his shirt slip out of his hands, obscuring your cleaning abilities. He would apologize profusely, telling you he had no idea why it kept happening. When you would shrug and go back to cleaning the blood, a smug smile would pull at his lips. You were so clueless.

You continued to clean the excess blood off of Luke’s body. His shirt would drop every couple minutes. He would apologize, and you would get back to work. This went on for a little over ten minutes.

You placed the cloth at your side, actually proud of what you had got done so far. You had managed to clean up the majority of the blood from his cut, and it was looking a lot better now. All that was left for now was to wrap it up and then send him for Ambrosia to finish the healing process. 

As you grabbed the roll of bandage from the box, you watched Luke drop his shirt yet again. He sighed dramatically and threw his hands up in defeat.

“I just can’t keep my shirt up. Guess I’m just gonna have to take the whole thing off.” He sighed and grabbed the hem, pulling it up and over his head. You were practically drooling as you watched. The way his muscles flexed when he ripped his shirt off.. it was so.. hot. You could now see his entire toned abdomen, and his chest. Your face was surely beet red at this point. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 

You had no idea in your trance, but Luke was watching the way you looked at him, a smug smile adorning his perfect face. He loved the way you reacted to his body. He thought you were the cutest thing. It was fun to see you all flustered like this. Eventually, by some miracle you were able to pull your eyes away from Luke’s body to focus on bandaging him up. You hastily unraveled the thin cloth, trying to ignore the burning feeling of Luke’s eyes on you, watching your every move. 

You leaned over his body, trying to reach to start the wrapping. It turned out to be really difficult, as you could barely reach. You sat back and sat there for a moment, trying to clear your head and figure out your next plan of action.

“I’m not sure how I’m gonna..” You admitted quietly, embarrassed. Luke looked up at you with a very clear and obvious smirk on his face. This worried you. You had no idea what he was planning, and you did not want to make a fool of yourself. 

To your immense surprise, Luke’s hands grabbed onto your hips and lifted you off the ground, making you squeal. He sat you down on his lap, in a straddle position. You were so close. Too close. The embarrassingly warm area between your legs sat right over his. You prayed and prayed he couldn’t feel it. You would never live it down.

“That’ll do it.” Luke smiled and pat your thigh encouragingly, causing you to let out a sharp squeak. You gulped and tried to focus on the bandage again. Your shaky hands brought the edge of the bandage to his back as you wrapped it around his torso, multiple times over. You wrapped it tight, but not too tight as to suffocate Luke.

Although, at that point it wouldn’t have mattered. Luke was completely focused on making you a flustered mess. The intense pain he was in was in the very back of his mind. He could barely feel it at this point. He was having way too much fun with you.

After the most painfully long two minutes of your life, you had finally finished wrapping Luke up. You let out a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling a weight drop off of your shoulders. You had never felt so stressed and embarrassed in your life. You hoped your work would hold up well and you had done it right.

Luke’s arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you in even closer. His nose brushed against yours as he looked up at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Thanks for your help,” he whispered in his gravelly voice. He leaned in even closer. “Means a lot.” He mumbled, almost against your lips. Your heart rate was through the roof. He was so close. So close you could kiss him. You could feel his breath mingling with yours. The warmth between your legs only continued to grow now. Luke chuckled lowly, watching the thoughts flow through your mind.

Luke moved his lips ever closer to yours. Dropping to a deep whisper, he spoke again. “I think.. I’m in love with you..” His lips moved slowly to capture yours. Your eyes widened, before you closed them, easing into his kiss. 

Your lips moved in perfect unison, as if made for eachother. Your hands moved to grip his dark curls. You softly pulled, feeling him moan into your mouth. Luke pulled away, moving his lips to your neck. Nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. He was sure to leave many marks on your delicate skin.

“I-” You were cut off by your own moans as Luke’s hands moved to rest on your breasts while his kisses along your neck became harsher. He slowly pulled away from your neck, keeping his hands on your chest.

“What were you gonna say, baby?”

“I.. love you as well.” You replied, breathless. Luke smirked, crashing his lips into yours again.

[hcneymooners]

౨ৎ stargirl interlude: chapter iv.

wnba!paige x pop star!azzi. men & minors dni.

⋆ 🪩 masterlist.

cw: implied loss of a parent, mentions of mental health issues, fluff, suggestive content.

notes: hello, hello. the song lyrics used belong to "pink champagne" (unreleased) by lana del rey. i hope you enjoy yourselves. love you. can't wait to see you in my inbox.

IV: FEVERED.

azzi woke hot and sticky.

she rolled over, her core swollen—a pink, ripe fruit in between her thighs. she knew who she’d dreamed about. 

she laid there for several minutes, her cheek pressed against the powder blue muslin of her pillowcases and her stomach tense and rolling. one of her legs was up, leaving a crooked angle of space between one thigh and another. the sun streamed in gently, frailly touching the propped-up body of her guitar. 

she pushed herself up and reached over to rummage along the cluttered face of her nightstand, her fingers finding the slender body of her pen and the moleskin familiarity of her journal. she flipped to the back, where she usually wrote things she could not confront just yet, and penned down several half-birthed lyrics. 

i don't really wanna die / i just want the pain to be over / i know that i talked about it all the time, babe / just wanted you to come over

she stared at the first set, pressing a hand to her throat as she felt the wound reopen. she was unsure if this would even make it into her experimental ep, but it felt good to release the pressure. her sadness was always somewhat embarrassing to her as if she was making the world so inconvenient for others by feeling it. she’d only ever talked to her father about it, and now he was gone too. she wrote more.

i got tired of america / it got hard to stay sober / then i met you and you blew my mind / that was it, game over

she knew if this was released it would lead to speculation, a deep dive into whether or not she had been to rehab or worse. she hadn’t, but she often felt her depression to be something as unraveling as addiction. people found it more relatable, more beautiful if she was diseased with grief and worry. she was less interesting when she was happy.

the year her father passed resulted in her highest number of streams and followers yet.

between her thighs had cooled, but her stomach was still warm. her fingers itched to call paige, but it was only five am here which meant it would be four o’clock for her. paige always said she didn’t mind, but azzi felt like paige always strived to make her comfortable and happy including never complaining about the ways azzi inconvenienced her. 

she set the journal aside and reached for her glass of water, half-melted ice knocking against the sides. she took a sip and stared at the ceiling, her skin still humming. the lyrics pulsed in her head like a fever dream, like heat lightning just beneath her skull. she tried strumming the guitar once, twice, but the strings sounded brittle in her hands.

she missed paige in the way she used to miss air during long underwater stretches—tight-chested, half-panicked. 

she found the building narrative odd. it was always how much paige “loved” azzi—they hadn’t said it yet, but she knew they both felt it—and never about how much azzi loved her.

paige was a bone in azzi’s body, a favored piece she never wanted to be broken. the more they spoke the more azzi could feel the certainty build in her chest. she knew paige quite possibly was one of the loves of her life, if not the only one. she knew the top would blow right off of the container of her obsession if this album ever did drop. 

her phone was facedown on the nightstand. she flipped it. notifications blinked in quietly from people she didn’t want to hear from. but her thumb went right to paige’s name. not even a photo saved, just paige <3, and the little half-moon next to it, set on do not disturb because azzi never wanted to risk waking her.

she hesitated for a moment, her finger hovering. then: tap.

it rang once, twice—

“az?” paige’s voice was low, warm with sleep. “you okay?”

azzi pressed her knuckles to her lips. her body seemed to collapse some. she settled back on her stomach. the sound of paige’s voice made everything ache harder. 

“sorry. i—i know it’s early. i didn’t mean to wake you.”

“you didn’t.” a pause. “what’s going on?”

azzi exhaled. “i just… i woke up, and everything felt wrong. i wrote some things down, but it didn’t help. i thought calling you might.”

a rustle on the other end, the sound of sheets. “you don’t have to apologize, az.”

silence. azzi bit her lip.

“i’m scared people aren’t going to love me anymore,” she said finally, voice paper-thin. “after this new stuff. it’s darker. it’s not sweet, it’s not wrapped in a bow. it’s real, but i think it might scare them.”

she knew they could both hear the ghost of what she meant to say: i’m scared you won’t love me anymore, that you might be scared.

paige was quiet, but not in a way that made azzi feel alone. it was the kind of quiet that meant she was listening intentionally. when they were face to face, paige would look at her while she did it. azzi would feel incredibly warm, flush with a volatile heat that threatened to debase her.

 “you know what i think?” paige said finally, voice still soft, still sleepy and slow. “i think love doesn’t go away just because the light changes. you’re still you. you’ve always been more than just sweet, pop songs.”

azzi closed her eyes and made a noise deep in her throat. “but it doesn’t feel like that. it feels like if i stop smiling even once, people will look away.”

“then let them.” paige didn’t even hesitate. “i won’t.”

and that—god. that nearly undid her.

“paige?” azzi whispered.

“yeah, baby?”

“i did wake you up, didn’t i?” 

paige laughed, raspy and light. “i’m that bad of a liar?”

“no,” azzi murmured, “i just know how you are.”

“mmm,” paige sounded satisfied. there was a rustle of fabric, and then azzi’s phone lit up with a facetime request. 

she picked up immediately and made the switch. paige’s bright, blue eyes found her from underneath their half-lids. her face was puffy with exhaustion, her cheek pink with impressions from her sheets. 

“hey, pretty girl,” paige said, her face creasing with a pale smile. 

despite the sadness, azzi smiled.

⟡

azzi ran straight from rehearsal to the car, didn’t change. 

the extensions tugged softly at her scalp with every hurried step, her hair swinging behind her a metronome keeping time with the avid pump of her heart. her outfit was barely there: cutoff denim shorts, a simple baby tee that was practically transparent and clung from the sweat still blooming across her skin. someone back at the studio had offered her a ride, but she’d shaken her head. 

she had a flight to catch, and no time for pleasantries.

azzi had always been transformed when she was after something that she really wanted. she knew it wasn’t safe to dart onto the tarmac, but she needed to be inside her plane as fast as she could afford to be. she just had to make it. 

she didn’t know the score when she slid into the seat. she didn’t even know the quarter. she just knew she had to be there—had to see paige win.

on the court, paige was all motion—pivot, sidestep, shot. she was uninterrupted, her refusal to lose fueling an almost uncomfortable level of focus. but then she slowed, her head rising from where she had bent it for a moment of breath. she raised herself, hands pushing off of her knees as she seemed to sense a change.

azzi watched her look to the sidelines. azzi watched her light up.

pov: paige.

she looked like the sun had claimed her, the light somehow painting itself across her face in a flattering anointing. thick, weighty curls spilled down her back in a dark, glinting cascade, the kind that invited fingers and invaded fantasies.  extensions had been clipped in hastily, but somehow it only added to the drama—azzi as the afterimage of some mythic girl running to the edge of the world.

her skin gleamed like it had soaked in hours of sun. golden brown and bare beneath the soft curve of the cropped tee, her collarbones casting faint shadows, the delicate line of her throat catching paige’s breath from across the court. she wore tassel sandals—completely impractical, tied sloppily, as if she’d shoved her feet into them mid-sprint. but they clung to her viciously as if to back her in battle.

azzi sat still, hands under her thighs like a child trying not to fidget, legs crossed, jaw slack in the smallest way. the jumbotron caught her, and for a flicker, the whole arena saw what paige saw. this almost-too-beautiful thing that had run for her. that was always running for her.

when she saw that paige had noticed her, her mouth parted slightly as if caught mid-breath, and she smiled.

she hadn’t even known she was coming. she hadn’t—

her surroundings slammed back into her, heightened by the knowledge that azzi was there. the fact that she had been so possessed by the urge to see paige in the same way paige had her, that she was struggling to sit still with it. paige felt something electric course through her, and she knew she was so obviously showing off. 

she didn’t care. 

another three sank clean, and the crowd erupted, but paige’s eyes were only on azzi. paige pointed—first to the net, then to her.

all for you.

the jumbotron flickered to azzi’s face. she didn’t even blink. didn't look away. the world watched as paige lit up.

when the buzzer sounded and her team swarmed, paige let herself get pulled in—hugs, high fives, a back slap from her coach. but her eyes kept darting back to the edge of the court. back to where azzi was now standing, half in shadow, half in light. still smiling. waiting.

the crowd blurred. time slowed. paige made her way through it like a tide parting. when she got to her, she didn’t say a word. just took the celebratory cap off her head—sweaty, curved perfectly to the shape of her—and settled it over azzi’s curls. azzi laughed, soft and surprised, holding the bill with two fingers like it might fall off otherwise. 

her eyes flicked up. paige was already leaning in.

the kiss wasn’t anything unexpected. they had been on a collision course since the dawn of time. it was perfect: just paige, full of adrenaline and something older, heavier, pressing her mouth to azzi’s in front of everyone like it was the most natural thing in the world. just azzi, popping up on tiptoes to better grasp the sweaty base of paige’s neck as she kissed her back. 

paige groaned, low and gravelly into azzi’s open mouth. azzi tasted like guava, like dark cherry icing smeared over a chocolate cake. just constant, endless sweetness that almost stung the longer paige tasted it. 

she pulled back, long blonde lashes fluttering with the latent adrenaline beneath her skin. azzi cupped her cheek, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. paige felt that familiar feeling that always rose whenever she was about to say something without thinking.

“azzi,” she breathed, her pupils dilating. “azzi, i love you. i’m in love with you.”

azzi revealed her teeth in a large, hollywood smile. it was a perfect shot: azzi captured just behind paige’s shoulder with her face tilted up and her face glowing with pleasure from beneath the brim of her girlfriend’s hat. she closed her eyes for a minute like she was feeling the words split the surface of her skin and encode themselves into her dna. 

another flash of cameras and azzi said, “you just said that in front of the whole world.”

paige pressed their foreheads together and murmured, “i meant it for you.”

azzi looked at her. 

“paige,” she said, “i’m in love with you too.” 

she said it so simply, like it should have been obvious since that moment in the sushi bar. and yes, looking back, that was probably ground zero. 

the moment their bodies touched, they had no longer been their own. they had immediately become each other’s.

wnbagirlfriends (tiktok) audio: “homecoming” by ethel cain (fan edit, slowed) [video: paige nails a three in transition, turns, and points to the crowd. cut to azzi, hair large, dark, and curly, sun-kissed in tiny jorts and a white baby tee, sitting on her hands courtside, smiling like she's trying not to cry. she doesn’t look at the jumbotron once. she’s only watching paige.] caption: she flew cross-country after practice just to see her win. | likes: 312k top comment: “THE WAY SHE LOOKS AT HER.”

hoopsgay (twitter): azzi showing up to paige’s game to surprise her with perfect goddess hair and an insane amount of love in her eyes… the real lovers are SO back! retweets: 24k | likes: 113k ⤷ username: our princess be showing up everywhere but that damn studio  ⤷ username: omg the new album is about to blow the whole world UP ⤷ username: okay but p literally feeling her presence before seeing her???? damn i’m gonna be alone forever i fear 

interiorromance (ig post): [two-photo carousel] [ 1. a screen grab of azzi from the jumbotron—eyes glassy and dark, a soft smile just for paige. 2. the kiss. paige cupping azzi’s jaw, azzi’s hands still gripping the ballcap. ] caption: this love was always yours. ⤷ username: killing myself  ⤷ username: if you look really closely you can see me on the jumbotron about to slit my throat  ⤷ username: the real question is can miss paige bueckers fight or…? ⤷ pbueckersofficial: nah, but imma learn real quick.  ⤷  azzi35: paige you cannot be serious  ⤷ pbueckersofficial: dead, ma.

azarchives (twitter): azzi fudd was seen leaving her workout this morning—hair braided, headphones in, full sweats. six hours later: she’s courtside in LA for paige’s game. hair down. legs crossed. very demure. she didn’t post. didn’t do a media hit. just came to watch her girl hoop. this is love in real time. retweets: 14k | likes: 97k 

espnW (ig post): [photo: paige slipping her ballcap on azzi’s head after the game, azzi laughing, tugging it down with both hands. paige leaning in, kissing her temple.] caption: nothing but net (and maybe a little bit of love). | likes: 403k comments: ⤷ username: AZZI FUDD CAME FROM THE HEAVENS. ⤷ karnold: this is my super bowl ⤷ username: karnold don’t you have a game tomorrow???? ⤷ karnold: damn y’all strict asf around here 

thecut (twitter): [image: paige mid-game, pointing after a shot. cut to azzi, hair wild and waist-length, legs tucked under, gold rings flashing as she claps.] Muses watch from the front row. ⤷  azzi35: she’s my muse actually  ⤷ pbueckersofficial: fuck it let’s get married

username  (twitter): paige talking about “let’s get married” girl if you don’t get tf in line 🙄 ⤷ pbueckersofficial: blocked and reported 💜#staywoke ⤷ username: LMFAO

⟡

azzi was gone as quickly as she came. she’d already pushed it with cutting rehearsal short and she knew her label was close to killing her.  all paige had left of her was the kiss still on her skin. 

the older woman had been reluctant to let her go and had found her apartment desolate and disturbingly empty. she took a shower, letting the warm stream relax her muscles and sweep the sweat off her skin. she lifted a hand to finger the short, blonde hairs at her neck and pretended it was azzi who was behind her—touching her with all the love she held inside of her. 

as soon as she got out, she opened her phone up to her messages and clicked on azzi’s thread.

» you really came

azzi 💍🩶 » i really came » ran on the plane, made it with like 7 mins to spare » was sweating through my baby tee lmao

paige grinned, falling backward on her bed.

» you looked so fine i thought i hallucinated you azzi 💍🩶 » good hallucination? or bad » be honest me » azzi, dpwm  » u looked life-ruining, mama » religious experience tier azzi 💍🩶 » u r SOOOO me » you never looked at the screen azzi 💍🩶 » wasn’t there to look at myself i have lots of time for that me » you are so annoying » how do u say something like that and expect me to be normal after » also  » u realize u broke the internet right » they calling u my muse azzi 💍🩶 » maybe i am » maybe you’re mine » maybe it’s mutual idk

paige, honest to god, screamed. 

me » you’re lucky i’m not beside you rn bc i’d be ruining your whole life with affection azzi 💍🩶 » bold of you to assume my life isn’t already ruined me » not sorry  » whatchu doing  azzi 💍🩶 » flight’s been delayed :(  » flew economy instead of the jet again bc i was scared they were gonna t swift me » why me » miss u azzi 💍🩶 » p me » what if u just came back  » like now azzi 💍🩶 is typing... azzi 💍🩶 » i thought of so many excuses but fuck it  » i miss u i love u i wanna be with you » gonna reschedule my flight and then call an uber  me » don’t even, imma pick u up  » sit tight, ma 

⟡

paige showed up maybe 14 minutes later, her gray benz sleek and pretty. azzi stood just outside, bouncing on the balls of her feet with anticipation.

she slid in, breathless, and kicked her sandals off somewhere in the car, her curls starting to frizz with night air and the sprint. she was still in that cropped baby tee from the game, her denim shorts wrinkled from sitting too long, her phone nearly dead. except she now had on one of those touristy souvenir sweatshirts, the blocky words ‘DALLAS DARLING’ raised and threaded a light shade of peach orange. she smelled like rose water and plane fuel.

paige was in an oversized, black hoodie and a pair of basketball shorts, hair still damp from her post-game shower. she didn’t even say anything. just grabbed azzi lightly by the throat and pulled her forward like she was afraid the world would steal her if she didn’t act fast.

azzi laughed into the kiss, swiping a thumb across paige’s bottom lip when they broke apart.

 “i have nothing with me, not even a toothbrush.”

paige just shrugged and said, “you have me.”

and azzi softened all at once, the way she only ever does when she was in paige’s space. like love’s gravity had finally stopped asking her to resist.

“i know, baby. if you were all i needed to survive then i’d live forever.”

paige flushed, running a hand over her face to hide her grin. 

“i have an extra toothbrush, but we can stop somewhere, though. if you want. get you some stuff.”

azzi hummed, her phone lighting up as her mother responded to her text about canceling her flight. 

“i think i’ll settle for stealing your clothes. i want to see what i can get away with.”

paige laughed and began to pull away from the curb, her free hand coming out to the side so that she could grip azzi’s thigh. “i’d let you get away with murder.”

azzi watched paige’s side profile for a moment, then leaned in and fixed her chain. 

“i know,” was all she said.

but secretly she thought, i hope you’re the thing that kills me.

© hcneymooners.