#but then again practically all of them are introverts

[blank-house]

Alright silly ask but how does the cast hold my purse in the club while I run to the restroom?

Deja and Reynah are clutching it casually, but their hands are over the zip lining. They laugh and joke but their eyes are incredibly attentive over everything that’s happening. If someone tries something, they’re immediately holding that purse tighter— whole demeanor doing a 180 lol

Cameron’s got it in front of them the whole time, squished between both hands. They’re fiddling with the strap but they’re keeping it close to their chest.

Elio has it swung over his neck and dangling in front of his chest. It’s easy for him to hold it that way AND keep an eye on.

Jamie would either have it on his lap, or he’s just lightly holding it in front of him while leaning on a wall/counter. In either scenario, both of his hands are folded over the top, keeping it close but not so seriously.

And then Percy’s *wearing* it. Strap on his shoulder or between his fingers. He’s always got one hand on it while it’s hanging off his side just so that he knows it’s not going anywhere.

[snowshinobi]

there's the person the story decides a character must be and the person a character is. the soon-to-be tortured sci-fi hero checks on his windowsill herbs each morning before work. then the world ends. it'll be years until he can raise plants again. the plants wait inside his hands the whole time.

[idkwhylou]

I wanna feel what love is

Summary : You're the Navy's most reserved systems specialist. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw is the loud, golden retriever pilot who can’t stop watching you work. He starts with coffee. Then conversation. Then a playlist. But you're silent, guarded… until the jukebox plays his song, and you finally speak in the loudest way you know how.

Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader/groundsystemstech!reader

Warnings : mutual pining, jealousy (brief flirtation), sunshine x quiet introvert, playlist flirting, he’s loud for both of you

Words : 5K

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ««

There was a certain stillness to the sim bay when you were in it—not silent, exactly, but quieter in a way that wasn't just about decibels. It was the kind of quiet that made people talk softer when they walked by you, as if your presence created a ripple of calm in the mechanical hum of monitors and diagnostic lights. You weren’t unfriendly. Just focused. Precise. A whisper in a world of voices raised too loud too often.

Bradley Bradshaw was not quiet, he was everything but quiet.

He was energy and swagger and sun-soaked charm, tall and golden, never without something to say. Usually something funny, sometimes something stupid, but always with that boyish confidence that made people laugh even when they didn’t want to.

And for some reason, lately, he kept orbiting around you.

Today, it was coffee.

You barely registered the footsteps until he was standing beside your desk, one hand curled around a cup, the other sliding the second one in front of you with practiced ease, like he’d done this before, like he’d made this part of his day.

“Hazelnut,” he said, voice low but cheerful, like you two were already in on some inside joke as he offered you the sweetest smile. “With oat milk. Thought I’d take a gamble, you look like an oat milk kind of girl.”

You paused mid-keystroke. Your eyes flicked up to his face—those soft brown eyes, wide and too curious for their own good—then down to the coffee. ‘Oat milk kind of girl’, what the hell does that mean ? Anyway, you took it without hesitation, your hand wrapping around the warm cup like it was familiar, though it wasn’t. At least not yet.

A quiet breath left your lips. “Thanks.” You murmured, voice just above the whir of the nearby fan: soft, clipped, barely there.

Then, you turned back to the screen, like the moment had never happened at all. Bradley stood there a beat too long, blinking once, then scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish kind of grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“…Cool.” He said to no one in particular, and walked off. Glancing back once to see if you looked at him again.

You didn’t.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ««

By the time lunch rolled around, the mess hall was its usual mess of uniformed pilots, engineers, and stray conversations about upcoming tests and simulations. Bradley slouched into a seat beside Phoenix and Bob, stealing a chip off Bob’s tray like it belonged to him.

“She never talks,” he said, more to himself than anyone else, watching you across the room as you sat alone, quietly eating, headphones on. You were scrolling something on your tablet—a manual, probably, or flight logs. You looked like you’d be anywhere else if you could, and still, you glowed in your own strange, distant way. Like a lighthouse in fog.

Phoenix didn’t even blink. “Whisper ? That’s her whole thing.”

Bradley raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, but she literally never talks. I’ve said good morning to her for like four days straight and got exactly two words in return. One of them was ‘thanks.’ The other was ‘hmm.’”

“She doesn’t waste words,” Bob offered gently. “I like that about her.”

“Yeah, but how does she communicate ? Like, with other humans ? Does she just telepathically vibe what she wants across the room ?”

Phoenix smirked. “You’re not mad she’s quiet, you’re mad she’s not talking to you.”

Bradley opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. He glanced across the cafeteria again. You were sipping the coffee he brought. Slowly. Still the only one you’d had all day. He watched the way you bit your lip, thinking intensely. How your hair fell back when you let it go, slightly hiding your face. But suddenly, a question popped in his head. “Why do we even call her whisper ?” He said still looking at you, not really waiting for an answer, more to make a statement.

“We talked once,” started Bob, cutting the brunet off from his observation. Rooster turned his head quickly, interested in what the blond had just told him. “Said she was a former pilot. Real good one too.”

His interest peaked, “Former pilot ? I thought she was a ground systems tech.”

“Well she is now.” The blond said. “But she used to fly, so people still use her call sign. Top of her class, sharp as a tack. Then she switched to ground—said she liked the quiet shadows better than the spotlight in the cockpit.”

Rooster took a slow sip of his glass of water, thinking about what his friend had just told him. “Guess I’ve got a mission then.”

Nat raised an eyebrow, “What kind of mission ?”

“To get her talking.” He answers, grinning like a kid who just found a new puzzle. 

Bob laughed. “Good luck with that one.”

But that didn’t discourage Bradley, not even a little.

The sim bay had the kind of buzz that never quite went away—humming computers, faint whirring fans, a voice or two in the background reviewing telemetry. It was comfortable in a mechanical sort of way, and you liked it that way: your space, your rhythm, your quiet corner of the world. You were back at your console, headphones on, lips parted ever so slightly in focus as you adjusted a variable in the flight response program.

Bradley Bradshaw, on the other hand, existed in full color. He lingered in the doorway, pretending to look for someone, but mostly watching you work. He moved like someone born in the sun, all wide smiles and long limbs, always cracking a joke or throwing a casual wink in someone’s direction. So, when his boots thudded up beside your desk for the second time that day, coffee in hand again, you felt him coming before you even saw him. You slipped one of your headphones off as he stopped beside your desk, and he couldn’t help but smiled at the anticipation.

“You always drink coffee after lunch,” he said, setting the cup beside your keyboard like it was already tradition. “But I figured I’d switch it up. This one has vanilla instead of hazelnut. Dangerous, I know.” He chuckled for a bit.

You paused, glanced at him, and took the cup with both hands like it might vanish if you didn’t. “Thanks,” you murmured, the word barely above a breath.

He smiled like it was a full sentence. And then, to your surprise, he didn’t leave. He leaned against the edge of your console, arms crossed. “So… do you always have your headphones in, or is that just to avoid me ?”

You blinked, looked at him—not startled, just unreadable. Then: a quiet, short answer.

“No.”

His brows lifted. “Oh ? So it’s not personal.”

“No.”

Another beat passed. He was clearly trying to decide if that was good or bad.

“What do you listen to ?”

“…Music.”

That made him grin. “Wow. The mystery deepens.”

You looked back at your monitor. You weren’t trying to be cold, you just didn’t know what to do with all that energy, all that focus pointed at you like sunlight through a magnifying glass.

Still, he stayed.

“What kind of music ?” he asked, voice dipping into something gentler.

You hesitated. “…Instrumental.”

“No lyrics ?”

You shook your head.

“Okay. So you like stuff that doesn’t talk much. That makes sense.”

There was a tiny flicker at the corner of your lips. Not quite a smile. But almost. Bradley caught it like it was gold dust.

“Are you from around here ?” he tried again, as casually as he could.

You shrugged. “Sort of.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You glanced at him. “It is.”

He chuckled, arms dropping as he leaned a little closer to your screen, trying to read what you were working on. “You calibrating the response latency on Phoenix’s sim log ?”

“Yes.”

“Wanna explain it to me like I’m five ?”

“No.”

He laughed—this full, warm thing that drew glances from two other pilots on their way out. You didn’t laugh with him, but you did nod, slow and almost amused as you went back to work. And that was something. Bradley stared at you for another second. Then, without a word, he picked up the half-empty coffee cup you’d been nursing since morning and pulled a black Sharpie from his back pocket.

He scribbled something near the rim, just above the sleeve, and set it gently back beside you. You didn’t look up. But you didn’t tell him to go, either. He turned and left with a smirk playing at his lips.

Once you were sure he was gone, you reached out, fingers curling around the cup like it was something private. You turned it, just slightly. In dark, careful handwriting, it said:

‘Don’t worry, 

I talk enough for both of us.’

You stared at it for a second. Just long enough for the smallest smile to touch your lips—the kind you’d never let him see.

Not yet.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ««

The Hard Deck was buzzing, already alive by the time you stepped through the doors. Half-empty beer bottles, familiar voices crashing over each other like waves, Phoenix’s laughter echoed from the pool table and a Springsteen song rumbled from the jukebox. Bradley was already there, leaning back at the bar, flashing that easy, sun-warmed smile at anyone who passed. As usual, he was dressed in an open Hawaiian shirt with a simple white T-shirt, his aviator pair on the tip of his nose, and his stupid moustache making him looking good as ever.

You hovered at the threshold longer than you meant to—long enough to wonder why you came, short enough that no one noticed—then slipped in quietly, the familiar hum of chatter wrapping around you like a cocoon. It wasn’t nerves, not exactly. You weren’t afraid of noise, just tired of being swallowed by it. But tonight, something pulled you in. Maybe it was the ache of loneliness that crept in when the hangar emptied you. Or maybe it was just the memory of Rooster’s smile earlier that morning, when he handed you coffee just to hear your thank-you. 

“Watch this.” Bradley said to Phoenix, next to him, as he saw you cross the room.

“You're gonna make a fool of yourself.” She laughed as he stood up, walking with a determined step towards you.

You found your usual corner near the window, sliding onto a stool with your drink and earphones already tucked in your jacket pocket. Not quite ready to drown out the noise, but ready to keep some space from it. You hadn’t even settled on a stool before a shadow fell beside you.

“There she is,” Bradley drawled, smooth and pleased, sidling up beside you with his usual beer in hand. “Didn’t think this place was your scene.”

You glanced at him sideways, eyes unreadable, and shrugged. “Got bored.”

“Oh, come on,” he said, leaning one arm on the table next to you, his attention all yours. “You in a bar full of pilots ? That’s not boredom. That’s anthropology.”

You tilted your head. “Maybe I’m observing.”

He grinned wide, taking that as a win. “See ? She does talk.” He says loud enough so Nat could hear it.

You didn’t reply. Just looked at him with wide eyes and sipped your drink, letting the silence settle again.

Bradley seemed content to fill it. “You always just… listen ?” He asked, watching over the rim of his bottle.

You gave a small shrug. “Someone has to.”

His eyes softened, “I like your voice.” He said unbothered by your silence. 

That pulled something from you—the tiniest exhale of laugh, gone before fully formed. But he caught it, and his grin widened even more when he saw your cheeks getting slightly red. “There it is,” he said, mock-dramatic. “A sound. We’ve got confirmation of life.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no heat in it.

Across the room, near the jukebox, Fanboy nudged Payback and nodded toward you both.

“Ten bucks says he won’t get her to say more than four words tonight,” Fanboy said.

Payback chuckled. “I’ll take that bet. Bradshaw’s relentless.”

Back at the corner, Bradley didn’t care. Didn’t even notice. He was too focused on you—on the way your fingers traced the rim of your glass, the way you listened like it mattered. Then, he seemed to be slowing down, leaning against the edge of your space like he might stay there all night.

“You ever drink anything stronger than water ?” He asked, nudging his empty bottle toward your glass.

“I had whiskey last week.” You murmured.

Bradley arched an eyebrow. “One whiskey ?”

You let the corner of your mouth twitch. “Two.”

He laughed, the sound full and bright, startling in the close space between you. You turned slightly toward him, just enough to give him your attention—not more, not yet.

“I think people forget you have a voice,” he said, his tone quieter now, like he didn’t want anyone else to hear. “I mean, I see you every day. Running diagnostics, fixing our busted egos in the sims, headphones always on. But nobody really talks to you.”

“I don’t mind,” you said, fingers tapping the base of your glass.

“Why’d you stop flying ?” He asked suddenly, not unkindly. Just… curious.

You glanced away for a beat, surprised he knew that, then shrugged. “Liked control more.”

Bradley’s smile softened, fading into something more thoughtful. “You ever miss it ?”

You paused. Then, so quiet he almost missed it: “Sometimes.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment—just looked at you, like he wanted to remember the sound of your voice exactly as it was. Then someone brushed past you on the way to the bar, a blonde woman in a sundress, tall and glowing, with a spark in her eye and a laugh that cut clean through the room. Confident in a way that glittered, she moved like she already knew who would be watching her, and her eyes locked onto Bradley.

You caught the way his eyes settled on her. Not just a glance, but a long, lingering stare, the kind that said he was interested, curious, maybe even impressed. His usual playful charm softened into something quieter, more focused, like he was seeing something worth leaning into, and for a moment, it was like you weren’t even in the room.

Anyway, he stayed with you a little longer. 

And unconsciously, you gave him more than usual tonight—a full five minutes of quiet conversation, soft answers barely audible beneath the noise, a trace of a smile when he teased you about something you just said. It was the most you’d spoken to him outside the sim bay, and for a moment, it felt like something shifted. Like maybe he saw you a little more clearly now.

Then your glass emptied. You stood slowly, nodding toward the bartender on the far end. “Be right back.” You took his empty bottle in your hand, without asking him. 

He thanked you and straightened, stretching his arms back just enough for the fabric of his shirt to pull across his broad shoulders. The movement was effortless, the kind of thing he didn’t even know he was doing. “Don’t disappear on me.” He called, half-laughing, as you stepped away, weaving through shoulders and laughter. You didn’t answer, just slipped into the crowd, quiet as ever. 

You didn’t see the blonde until you were halfway to the bar, but he saw her. She brushed past you with the kind of scent you couldn’t name but somehow noticed. And by the time you looked back, his eyes were already on her. Focused. That warm, open grin of his softened into something more curious, the kind of look he gave to things he wanted to figure out—the same look he gave you earlier that morning. When she glanced over and smile, he smiled back like it was instinct. The blonde placed a hand on his forearm, light and lingering, nails painted in a summer pink. And he didn’t move an inch away. 

He tilted his head, smiling down at her like they’d known each other longer than thirty seconds. That familiar warmth in his eyes—the one he gave you—was now entirely hers. Your grip on his bottle tightened and you turned back toward the bar, but not for the bartender anymore. Instead you set the bottle and your glass gently on a vacant corner. 

“Doesn’t need his beer anymore.” You muttered under your breath. 

“Ditching the golden boy already ?” Phoenix’s voice came from beside you, light but knowing. 

You didn’t flinch, just gave her a small shrug, eyes fixed on a spot somewhere past the jukebox. “He’s got company.” You said quietly. 

She followed your gaze. Her expression didn’t change, but you caught the way she exhaled slowly, like she wanted to say something. Instead, she offered a soft nudge to your shoulder. “Come shoot a round with me. Before Bradshaw says something stupid dumb and ruins both your nights.”

You nodded once, grateful, and let her steer you away—away from the laughter from the blonde, from the part of you that had started to hope he’s look for you first.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ««

The next few days passed in a blur of drills and simulator runs, but something was off. Bradley felt it before he even saw it. A shift in the air, subtle and sharp. The way people say you can sense a storm rolling on, not by the thunder, but by how still the birds go. 

You were still there in the sim bay every morning, like clockwork. Still perched at your console with your headphones draped around your neck, fingers flying over diagnostic keys. Still responding to reports, confirming flight data, calling out corrections with crisp professionalism. 

But you weren’t there. Not like before. 

You didn’t glance over when he leaned on the edge of your desk with his usual swagger, coffee cup in hand, teasing tone ready. You’d just take the cup without eye contact, said a flat, “Thanks”, and go back to the screen like he hadn’t just offered you the sun. 

No smile. No soft voice. No quiet moment like before. Bradley stood there a second longer, watching you scroll through diagnostics. The first time, he brushed it off. Maybe you were tired or busy. The second time, it tugged a little. But the third ? It started to sting. 

“Rough morning ?” he asked that day, testing the waters. He watched you from just a few feet away, trying to catch your expression through the edge of your hair. But you didn’t even blink. Didn’t even lift your head. Just muttered, “No”, and continued typing. 

Bradley lingered awkwardly for a few seconds longer, waiting—for a smile, a glance, anything. But you never looked up. He left the coffee on the corner of your console and walked away like a door had closed behind him.

And it stuck with him. It gnawed at him all day. During simulator drills, debriefs, even lunch where he barely touched his food, through endless conversations with teammates where he found himself half-listening, distracted by the feeling of something slipping out of reach. By the time evening rolled around, he couldn’t shake it. He found Phoenix on the flight deck catwalk, where the sky was bruising purple, and the air still carried salt and heat.

“What did I do ?” He asked impatient.

She didn’t looked away from the horizon, “To who ?”

He looked at her like it was obvious and sighed, “Whisper.”

Now she looked at him, one brow lifted. “You mean besides not shutting up around her ?”

Bradley narrowed his eyes. “No, I mean lately. She’s been…” He exhaled hard. “Different. Cold.”

Phoenix tilted her head, giving him a long, pointed look. Then she asked, “You really don’t get it ?”

His expression didn’t change, but there was hesitation in his eyes. “Get what ?”

“She saw you Bradshaw.”

He blinked, “Saw me what ?”

Phoenix pushed off the railing, folding her arms. “You flirted with some random at the Hard Deck right after spending all night talking her out of her shell. And she saw you. Every second of it.”

Bradley’s mouth opened slightly. “What ? No, I wasn’t— I just talked to her for a second—”

“Bradley,” Phoenix’s voice dropped, serious now. “She was holding your damn beer to get you a new one. She wanted to come back to you.”

He stopped. Actually stopped. Like the weight of those words landed straight on his chest. “I didn’t…” He scrubbed a hand down his jaw. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” He muttered.

She softened a little but didn’t let him off the hook. “Didn’t have to.” She waited a beat, then said more gently, “She’s quiet, not stupid. You think that kind of girl opens up to just anyone ?”

He didn’t answer. Because he was thinking about the bar now. About the way your eyes had briefly flicked toward him when the blonde leaned in. About how your expression had shuttered before he could even recognize the look behind it. 

Phoenix watched him closely, then nudged his shoulder. “So. Fix it. Or at least don’t make it worse.”

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ««

Two days went by.

Long enough for Bradley to feel every inch of it—in the clipped responses, in the polite nods, in the way you passed him in the corridor like he was another file to be sorted and ignored. 

And it was driving him insane.

Because you weren’t the kind of person to shut people out impulsively. You were calculated, quiet, deliberate in everything you did. And this coldness wasn’t sudden. It was chosen. Thought through.

Which meant it hurt.

He spent hours turning it over in his head, reliving that night at the Hard Deck, the way you’d said ‘Be right back’ like it meant something, like you were truly planning on coming back to him and not just disappear as he thought you would. And how he’d let himself be pulled into a meaningless moment with a girl he didn’t even remember the name of. He hadn’t even realized what he was doing. Not until Phoenix spelled it out for him in painfully clear words.

So now he sat with that. The guilt, the frustration, the quiet hollow ache of knowing he’d hurt someone who barely let people close to begin with. And he wanted to fix it. But with you, big gestures didn’t work. He knew that. You didn’t want spectacle, you wanted sincerity. Something simple. Something honest.

So that morning, before anyone else was in the sim bay, he left a flash drive on your console. No note. No explanation. Just slid it onto the edge of your desk beside your water bottle and walked away without a word.

You noticed it the moment you sat down.

A plain silver drive, no label. But when you hovered over the files on your screen an hour later, curiosity finally won over.

“Songs You Should Smile To — A Rooster Original”

You stared at the name for a long moment, your finger paused above the track list. You didn’t open it right away. Didn’t smile, either. Just… paused. Then clicked. The first song was soft, warm around the edges. The kind of sound that lingered like late sunshine on concrete. It played in your headphones for exactly thirty-eight seconds before you stopped it. Then closed the window. Then unplugged the drive.

You slipped it into your pocket like it was something fragile.

Later that day, while the rest of the pilots were out on deck, Bradley circled back into the sim bay. You were alone at your station, typing quietly, brows drawn together as you reviewed a diagnostic thread. He lingered by the edge of the console—not leaning in like usual, not crowding your space—just there. Treading softly.

“Hey,” he said gently, scratching at the back of his neck. “Did you, uh… open it?”

You didn’t look at him. Just nodded. “Yeah.”

That was it.

A single syllable, flat as an ocean on a windless day. You didn’t elaborate. Didn’t offer a smile. Didn’t even glance his way.

Bradley hesitated, thumb rubbing the edge of his palm. “Cool,” he said, too quickly. Then added, “Just figured… you might need a better soundtrack. Y’know. For… stuff.”

No reply. No warmth. Nothing to hold on to. You didn’t ignore him, but you didn’t give him anything, either. And that was somehow worse. He lingered for a second longer, then gave a small nod and turned away. Chest tight, mouth pressed into a thin line.

But he didn’t see the way your fingers curled slightly as he walked off. The way your eyes flicked toward the flash drive, still safe in your pocket. Or even the way you waited until the door hissed shut behind him before reaching for your headphones again.

You started the playlist over. From the beginning this time.

»» ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ««

The Hard Deck was loud that night. Louder than usual. Full of laughter, clinking bottles, half-sung choruses to half-remembered songs. Bradley was already two beers in when he dropped onto a stool by the bar, half-listening to Hangman brag about something no one cared about and trying not to look toward the door every few minutes like some hopeful idiot.

You hadn’t showed up yet. 

He told himself he wasn’t looking. That he didn’t care. That it was just a normal night, and he was just enjoying the bar like everyone else. 

But then he heard it.

The song.

Soft drums, rising gently above the noise, his heart stuttered.

“I want to know what love is” by the Foreigner.

It wasn’t one of the Hard Deck bangers, not on Penny’s usual rotation. It was his song. The first track on the playlist he gave you. One that made him grin when it came on during drives, made him think of wind in his hair and summers that never quite ended. It wasn’t loud enough to cut through pool games or Payback’s booming laugh across the room. But loud enough for him to hear it.

He blinked, turning toward the jukebox automatically.

And there you were.

Alone, standing quietly with one hand still resting lightly against the machine, like you weren’t quite sure you were allowed to touch it. Head bowed just a little, listening. You looked soft in the amber glow of the neon bar lights. 

Playing his song.

Bradley was on his feet before he could stop himself. He crossed the floor slowly, weaving through the crowd as his pulse ticking somewhere behind his ribs, watching you with a quiet disbelief. You didn’t turn until he was almost beside you. Then, finally, your eyes lifted to meet his. There was something unreadable in your expression: something brave.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

“I liked this one.” You said simply, your voice barely louder than the song. 

Just that.

No buildup. No grand declaration. But your voice was warmer than it had been in days, and your eyes held a softness he hadn’t seen since before that night at the bar. And Bradley melted. A breath escaped his chest like relief and hope all tangled into one. “Yeah ?” He asked, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “I thought you might.”

You gave a tiny nod, barely there. “Had it on repeat all night.”

He smiled then. Really smiled. The kind that stretched across his face like a sunrise. His heart clenched in his chest, and for once, he couldn’t find a smooth comeback. Just stood there, quiet in front of the quietest person he knew, feeling every word like it had weight. 

 “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “For that night. I didn’t mean to— I wasn’t trying to…”

“I know.” Your eyes didn’t leave his.

And then—finally—you smiled. Bradley exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding his breath since that night. You looked at him for a long time, longer than you ever had before. The jukebox kept playing as the music wrapped around you both like velvet.

Bradley laughed under his breath, “There it is.”

The jukebox’s glow flickered softly across your face, casting colors that shimmered like stained glass: red across your jaw, blue across your lashes. You were looking at him like he’d said something sacred. Like he hadn’t messed it all up.

Bradley’s throat tightened. His hands ached to move—to reach for you, to tuck that strand of hair behind your ear, to do something—but he didn’t. He didn’t move. Didn’t trust himself not to screw it up by rushing. So he stood there, holding his breath, watching you like he’d watch a sunrise he was afraid to blink through.

And you… you just looked at him for a moment longer. Eyes calm, unreadable, but soft. Then slowly—so slowly he almost thought he imagined it—your hand reached up. Fingers brushed lightly against the collar of his shirt, then steadied there, like an anchor. You leaned in, hesitant, but sure, eyes locked on his, not breaking even once. Bradley’s breath caught. His lips parted just slightly. He still didn’t move.

But you did.

You kissed him.

Not tentative. Not shy. Not loud, but louder than anything you’d ever said before. It was soft, but certain, the kind of kiss that said everything you never did. And Bradley melted into it. When he finally kissed you back—deeper, more grounded, hand slipping gently around your waist—it felt like exhaling after months of holding his breath. Like gravity stopped pulling and just let him float.

And in the background, Kelly Hansen sang on : 

I wanna feel what love is, I know you can show me…

[prettygirl-gabi]

So Ma, What Do You Wanna Do?

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Short!Reader

Fandom: WNBA-Dallas Wings

Summary: never were just friends…

A/N: starting off Pride with a Hard launch fic

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @elswhore , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin , @issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog , @sayurireidotcom , @zizi-bee-yapping , @latenighttalkinqwp , @fairyblossomsav

The thing about dating Paige Bueckers—America’s golden girl, walking highlight reel, everyone’s favorite hooper—is that no matter how private she tries to be, people watch.

A lot.

Not just fans.

Teammates.

Coaches.

Her family.

Random baristas who pause halfway through her iced matcha because “Wait, are you Paige Bueckers?” And since I’m, well… me—barely 5’2” on a good day wearing heels and introverted enough to disappear in a crowd—we’ve been playing this very careful game.

To the outside world, we’re best friends.

Roommates, if anyone asks.

And yeah, besties hold hands sometimes, maybe nap on each other on planes, maybe share hoodies and match sneakers—but PDA?

Affection that reads as romantic?

Never too much of that. Not yet.

But today? Today changed everything.

It started on a lazy afternoon. Paige had a the day off from practice, and I was curled on the couch in one of her oversized Wings tees—correction: our oversized Wings tees—scrolling through TikTok while she finished up a call with her agent in the other room.

I was bored. Dangerous level bored. So naturally, I fell into a rabbit hole of Paige edits.

Then, BookTok edits/ trends.

The trends kept coming up.

One in particular.

You know the one.

The tall person (Paige). The short person (me). The quiet tension. The “two fingers under the chin, lift your face and make you look them in the eye” trope that sent people feral in the comments.

I’d seen versions of it all week.

And now? All I could think was: Would it really be that hard to recreate?

So I did what any slightly chaotic, secretly in love girlfriend would do.

I set my phone up on the entry shelf behind a plant—just enough coverage to keep it hidden, but still in full frame.

Paige wouldn’t notice. She was too busy dragging herself around the apartment like a sleepy golden retriever in slides.

“Paaaaige,” I sing-songed.

She appeared around the corner, barefoot, hair pulled back, sleepy eyes scanning me like I was up to something.

“What, baby?”

“Dinner,” I said, backing into the doorway casually. “Should we eat out or stay in?”

She shrugged, walking closer putting her hair in a low messy bun. “You wanna go out? I’m good either way. What are you in the mood for?”

I was already fidgeting.

Avoiding her gaze like usual when it came to that topic.

Going out together as just the two of us still felt… vulnerable. I hated being the one people stared at when they recognized Paige in public.

Hated the weird math they did in their heads when they saw us holding hands like, wait… that’s not just a friend, right?

And Paige always noticed when I started deflecting.

“You’re doing the thing again,” she said quietly, stepping closer, her frame easily boxing me in against the doorway.

I glanced away, lips twitching. “What thing?”

“That thing where you look at every surface except my eyes.”

“I dunno,” I mumbled. “That’s why I’m asking you, P.”

She tilted her head, slow and soft. “Nah, baby. We’re not doing that.”

She raised her hand—two fingers under my chin—and lifted my face so we were eye to eye.

Camera still rolling.

“Look at me and tell me what you wanna do, mama.”

I felt myself short-circuit. Literally buffering. If this were a live stream, I’d be frozen in 144p with the spinning wheel of death.

“I—um,” I blinked, eyes wide. “I mean—like—we could go out if you want—”

She hummed. “So, m’onna ask again-ma, what do you wanna do? Because we don’t have to go out if you don’t wanna. I get it. I really do.”

God, her voice was low. Kind. Patient. Gentle dominance at its finest. Her fingers never dropped from my chin.

I melted.

Folded.

Like a human pretzel.

I had nothing left. All thoughts gone.

“We can… we can eat out tonight,” I whispered. “Don’t really feel like cooking. Plus by the time we umm… we ordered and it gets here it’ll be like warm.”

She nodded then leaned in, kissed the side of my forehead, then a quick soft one on my lips and said, “Cool. Get dressed. We’ll hit that TexMex place you like.”

She walked off like she didn’t just drop a TikTok nuke. (Which she had no idea about)

Two hours later, we were seated in a corner booth of La Cabaña, half a bowl into the best queso in Dallas, and I pulled out my phone like it wasn’t burning a hole in my pocket.

“I, uh… may’ve recorded something earlier.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Of me?”

I turned the screen to face her and hit play.

We both watched as she slowly, unknowingly gave the world the softest, most heart-melting alpha moment in TikTok history.

Me, looking like I was trying not to spontaneously combust. Paige, calm and smooth and built like a tall glass of “yes ma’am.”

The trend. Executed. Perfectly.

“Oh,” she said after the video ended. “Baby, you really folded.”

I covered my face with my hand. “I told you. You had me buffering like a broken smart fridge.”

She smiled, barely fighting a laugh. “You gonna post that?”

“Thinking about it, but I dunno” I mumbled.

She shrugged and sipped her horchata. “Post it if you want. I really don’t care. Just know…” She leaned across the table, eyes dropping to my lips. “The PDA? It’s not gonna be ‘friendly hand holding’ after that video goes up.”

I choked on a tortilla chip.

She smirked.

Once back at home, I uploaded it. No captions about “guess who” or “my bestie lol.” No ambiguity. Just the truth.

Caption:

Nothing about this says just friends. Especially not dishing out these types of kisses either.

@PaigeBueckers

#booktoktrend #girlfriendsoftiktok #tallgfshortgf #hardlaunch

Paige’s comment came not even a full minute later.

@/Paige Bueckers:

I said what I said. And I’d say it again. louder. with tongue. 🧏‍♀️💋😈

The likes blew up. Comments exploded. People were freaking out.

• “THE WAY Y/N FOLDED LMFAOOOO IKEA CHAIR ENERGY 🪑😮‍💨”

• “if someone ever said ‘what do you wanna do, mama’ i’d die.”

• “this was not a soft launch. this was a full Broadway debut.”

• “Paige said ✨look at me✨ and we ALL looked.”

• “BookTok ain’t never seen it done so real.”

• “I need this kind of dominance in my life immediately.”

Fran, my childhood(and current) best friend texted within five minutes: “EXCUSE ME?!?! YOU AND PAIGE?!?!?!? I’M CALLING YOU.”

I put my phone face down.

“Too much?” I asked, settling into Paige’s side on the couch.

Her arm slipped around me. “Nah. Just enough.”

We watched the likes climb. The comments multiply. The secret we’d been keeping finally out in the open, loud and proud.

And true to her word, the next time we went out? Paige didn’t just hold my hand.

She kissed me—gently, sweetly—right on the sidewalk. Right in front of everyone.

And not a single person thought we were just best friends again.

Not after that.

Not ever.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!💚💙

                             -prettygirl-gabi✨️💗

[kathaelipwse]

"No More Hiding"  |  C.Seungcheol

Warning: Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Heavy Angst & Comfort, Body Worship, Suggestive Content, Jealousy, Strong Language, Emotional Vulnerability Word Count: 1.2k Synopsis: You and Seungcheol have been friends since fifth grade, but he's been in love with you since tenth. You’ve spent years avoiding his gaze, drowning in insecurities, and trying not to crumble under the weight of cruel words. But when someone takes it too far, Cheol snaps. No more hiding. No more avoiding him. And certainly no more doubting how he sees you. Because in his eyes? You are everything. Author’s Note: This is for the girls who hide behind oversized hoodies, for the ones who tug at their skirts and second-guess how they look in them. Seungcheol adores you, and he’s about to make sure you never doubt it again. Also, let’s all collectively laugh at the fact that he got jealous over a fictional man—as he should.

You’ve known Cheol since the fifth grade. Back when he had chubby cheeks and an uneven haircut, and you were still figuring out how to make friends without hiding behind a book. Through every awkward phase and every growing pain, he’s been there, smiling at you like you hung the damn stars.

Now, years later, he's the basketball team captain—loved, admired, and constantly in the spotlight. You? You’re still the introverted, reserved person you’ve always been, only now with extra insecurities courtesy of high school.

And Yuni, the cheer captain, makes sure you never forget them.

She sneers at your thick thighs, your stomach folds, the way your gym shirt clings to you more than it does to the other girls. She makes jokes when Cheolie isn’t around, and when he is, she bats her lashes, acting innocent while throwing subtle jabs at you.

But Cheol never falls for it. He ignores her, brushing past her to meet your eyes. Compliments spill from his lips effortlessly.

“You look cute today, pretty.”

“Your hair’s nice like this.”

“You wore that sweater last week. I liked it then, and I like it now.”

It’s overwhelming sometimes—how easily he finds beauty in you when you struggle to see it yourself.

Then, it happens. In the cafeteria.

Yuni’s voice rings louder than necessary. “No wonder you wear oversized hoodies all the time. If I looked like that, I’d cover up, too.”

The laughter that follows feels sharper than a knife, but it’s not the worst part. The worst part is Cheol’s reaction.

He doesn’t just get mad. He gets furious.

“What the fuck did you just say?” His voice silences the room.

Yuni stammers, but he doesn’t let her finish. “Say that shit again, and I swear—” He stops himself, jaw clenched, eyes burning as he looks at her like she’s the lowest thing on earth.

You feel sick. Embarrassed. Exposed.

You avoid him after that. You stop meeting him at lunch, stop waiting for him after practice. The guilt eats at you—he defended you, stood up for you like he always does. But it doesn’t erase the way the words latched onto your skin like a parasite

A few weeks later

The library is nearly empty, the only sound being the faint rustle of pages and the occasional sigh of exhaustion from students buried in textbooks. But Seungcheol isn’t focused on any of that.

His eyes are locked onto you—dressed in layers, oversized hoodie swallowing your form, sleeves tugged over your hands, like you’re trying to disappear. And it fucking breaks him.

"Pretty, talk to me," he calls softly, voice careful as he approaches.

You tense, fingers curling into the fabric of your hoodie. "Cheol, please. Just go."

But Seungcheol doesn’t listen. He never does when it comes to you.

In one swift motion, before you can protest, his strong arms wrap around you, and he lifts you effortlessly. Like you weigh nothing. Like carrying you is the easiest thing in the world. Your shocked gasp is swallowed by his presence as he sets you down on the library table, stepping between your legs, hands firm on your thighs. He doesn’t let you move away.

His voice is low, a growl, edged with frustration and something darker. "I’ve had enough. Enough of you hiding from me. Enough of you covering yourself up like you aren’t the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen."

Your breath hitches, heat crawling up your neck. "Cheol—"

"No," he cuts you off, fingers squeezing your thighs as his eyes devour you. "You think I don’t notice? The way you flinch every time someone talks about your body? The way you avoided me after that cafeteria bullshit? Like I could ever—ever—look at you and see anything less than perfection."

Your head drops, but he doesn’t let you retreat. His hand grips your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"You wanna know what I see?" His voice is pure sin now, deep and rough as he leans in, lips brushing your ear. "I see thick, delicious thighs that I’ve been dying to sink my fingers into. I see soft little folds that make my mouth fucking water. I see a body that—Jesus, baby—ruins me every time you walk into a room."

His hands tighten their grip, heat flooding his gaze as he drags his thumbs along the plush flesh of your thighs.

"And your stomach? You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t fucking love it?" His breath is ragged, like just talking about you is short-circuiting his brain. "You shift in those hoodies and all I can think about is how fucking soft you must be underneath. You wear those skirts, and I’m—"

He stops, groaning through clenched teeth, like he’s physically restraining himself.

"Pretty girl, I lose my fucking mind when you wear skirts."

He exhales sharply, forehead pressing against yours. His restraint is crumbling.

"That night," he murmurs, voice dark, thick with hunger. "That black dress. You in it? Pretty, I barely survived. You walked into that party and I swear to God, I almost dragged you away. Had to spend half the night gripping my drink instead of gripping your hips."

Your thighs press a bit around his waist instinctively wanting to close em cause fuck this you were turned on, and he notices—oh, he notices. His smirk is devastating, pure male satisfaction as he presses closer, his warmth seeping into you.

"You have no idea, do you? How many times I’ve had to look away, had to force myself to think about something—anything—other than how badly I need to bury my face between these thighs? How badly i have claimed myself as yours?" His voice drops, rough with hunger. "How much I ache to have you trembling under me, pretty? To feel you, taste you—"

A strangled sound escapes you, fingers fisting the front of his hoodie.

He chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating against your lips.

"And it’s not just your body, baby." His thumb traces slow circles on your inner thigh, creeping dangerously high. "It’s you. Your pretty little pout when you argue with me. The way you never shut up about those damn romance books you read—"

Your eyes snap up, indignant. "I do not ‘never shut up’—"

"Oh, you do," he teases, grinning. "And I fucking love it."

His voice drops lower, lips ghosting over yours. "You wanna know something pathetic? Once, I got jealous of a fictional guy you were swooning over."

You blink, stunned. "You’re kidding."

"I wish," he groans, rubbing a hand over his face like the memory physically pains him. "You went on for thirty minutes about how perfect he was, how you’d ‘sell your soul’ for a man like that." His eyes burn into yours, frustration clear. "And all I could think was, ‘What about me?’"

Your heart stops.

"I’ve liked you since the tenth grade," he admits, voice raw. "After being your best friend since the fifth. And all this time, all these years, I’ve just been waiting—praying you’d see it. That you’d see me."

His forehead presses against yours, breath hot against your lips. "You have me wrapped around your fucking finger, pretty. And I don’t want out."

Your breathing stutters, overwhelmed, dizzy. "Cheol… I—"

"No more running," he murmurs. "No more hiding from me. From this."

And then, he kisses you.

It’s slow at first—like he’s savoring you, taking his time memorizing the shape of your lips, the way you taste. But then you kiss him back, and that’s it. The dam breaks.

He groans, deep and raw, as he pulls you closer, fingers digging into your thighs, devouring you. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming you, and you let him—because it’s Seungcheol. Because it’s always been him.

When he finally pulls away, he’s breathless, pupils blown.

"You’re beautiful," he murmurs against your lips, brushing his nose against yours. "So fucking beautiful. And if you ever doubt it again, pretty, I swear I’ll spend every damn day proving it to you."

And something tells you, he absolutely will.

---

[marvelwitchergilmore]

For Certain

Summary: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x fe!Reader -> You're in a secret relationship with a long-time friend and Naval Aviator Bob.

Disclaimer: secret relationship, reader briefly mentioned to not have been treated well in past relationships, fluffy moments, friends to lovers, Phoenix beating Hangman at Pool. So much of Lewis Pullman has been on my feed lately, I wanted to write something for Bob. Not Proof Read.

“Hey, Phoenix. Where’s your wingman? Thought he’d be here to help with moral support, at least,” Hangman called from the otherside of the pool table. 

So far, she was out twenty bucks, but Hangman was getting way too confident for her liking. 

She had him right where she wanted him. Within fifteen minutes she’d have her money back and then some. 

Phoenix nodded in the direction of the bar. “Take a look for yourself.”

Whilst Hangman was distracted, she lined up her next shot. Jake just stood, dumbfounded. 

Tilting his head as he leaned on his pool cue, he hummed. “Seems our little introvert has game after all.”

Across the Hard Deck, Bob was sitting talking to you. 

His stool turned into yours, your legs practically interlocking, you laughed once again as Bob told you another story of his day at work. Meanwhile, across the bar, Phoenix took her shot and Hangman’s attention was back on the table. 

How the fuck was he losing? He was just winning. 

“Do you think they’ve figured it out yet?”

Bob looked to his team for a moment before turning his attention back onto you. “Nope. Well, other than ‘Tasha. Do you want them to know?”

You smiled and looked back at Bob. “Not yet,” you reached for his hand, finding it instantly in yours. “I like having our little bubble.”

Bob smiled and leaned in a little closer. “I really wish I could kiss you right now.”

You looked around the bar and the gods shone on you both because a large group of tourists passed the other end of the bar. “Quickly.”

With his hand in your hair, you smiled into his kiss. He’d kissed you like what felt like a million times before, and yet somehow each kiss he gave you felt like the first. 

Bob wasn’t your first secret relationship, but he was the first to constantly make you feel loved. He knew how you’d been treated in high school; romanced in seclusion but ignored in public. He never wanted that for you. But it was your choice to keep your relationship a secret from his team. 

Most of them were like his family, but you’d met the most important to him. 

Phoenix. 

Pulling away, you felt Bob’s hand on your thigh under the bar top. And the way he looked at you…it made you want to melt. 

And go back in time and reassure your younger self that you had the right idea about dating your best friend. Even if your younger self wouldn’t believe you. 

Robert had been in your life for as long as you could remember. He was the son of your mothers closest friend, though you didn’t see him very much considering they lived so far away. Mostly it was at family gatherings and special occasions. 

But six months ago when you arrived in San Diego to interview for a new position in your line of work, your mom texted you and let you know Bob was in the area. So, if you needed a tour guide or a familiar face…he was one to consider. 

It hadn’t been until you’d walked into the Hard Deck by accident that same night that you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

“Y/n?”

A smile broke out on your face, “Bob?”

“Hey,” he smiled before hugging you. 

You’d been away from home for so long, and so adamant that you didn’t need someone with you, that it took a hug from Bob to realise you were grateful to see him. You didn’t feel awkward like you had done when your mom told you Bob was in the area, too. You didn’t feel nervous about seeing him or talking with him, or sitting at the bar for the rest of the night with him, reminiscing on old times. 

And, when travelling back home together for Christmas – your mother and his deciding it was a sign to spend Christmas together – that you started to develop a deep friendship with Bob. The kind that, that day after Christmas, you realised was more than just a friendship thing. 

You’d walked down the glossy wooden stairs on Boxing Day morning expecting to be the only one awake. But you weren’t. Just as you were thanking the Gods for underfloor heating, you stalled in your tracks. In the living room, Bob was picking up different pieces of wrapping paper and paper cups, shoving it all into a rubbish bag. 

The entire house was silent. And there was just something about his profile as you looked at him; tired but rested eyes, gentle hands and a slightly settled bed head. Something clicked. 

You liked Robert. 

You had feelings for your friend. 

However, you had been swiftly knocked out of your trance when you felt something skirt across your calf only to realise it was one end of your dressing robe’s belt. 

Bob had spotted you just a little before you let out a quiet squeal as you felt the fabric ghost across your leg. And he smiled at you with the kind of smile that sent a thousand butterflies of feelings and anxiety through you. 

“Morning.”

Crap. He has a morning voice.

You had to grip onto the entrance frame to steady yourself. Get a grip, woman!

Thankfully, you were able to compose yourself before you walked inside and towards the kitchen. “What are you doing awake so early?”

“Habit,” he answered. 

“Coffee?”

“Love some,” he carried the trash bag outside letting in a gust of cold air.

Once the door was closed again, despite the cold, you wished it was open again. You might have felt less consumed by him, despite the fact he was at least ten feet from you as he walked back towards the living room to grab the second bag. 

It took two more weeks, but out of sheer need and composed frustration, Bob had asked you a question. 

You were both back in San Diego by the first week of the new year.

You’d agreed to meet him at his home since he wanted to make dinner for you. But it was as the clock was approaching midnight and neither of you were making a move to leave the porch swing bench from under the blankets, he asked you if he could do something he wished he’d done on New Years. 

He kissed you. 

There was no going back after that. And you didn’t want to. 

And neither did he. 

Six months later, that comforting bliss was still intertwined between both of you. 

“I better go. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow,” you eventually told him. 

He nodded. “Want me to walk you home?”

You smiled but shook your head. “No, you should stay here.”

“I doubt they’d miss me.”

You tried to hide your smile, which only made Bob smile more. 

“It’s okay. I drove here, anyway. And besides, I think Hangman might need some moral support. Phoenix had been kicking his ass for the last forty minutes.”

Bob rolled his eyes but he agreed anyway. “I’m still Team Phoenix.”

You smiled. “So am I.”

“Let me walk you to your car, at least?”

You nodded. 

Bob called Penny’s name, leaving a few bills on the bar to cover your tab before you could pull out your card. Meanwhile, you laid your bag over your shoulder and Bob followed you out of the door, one of his hands loose in yours whilst his other traced up and down over the curve of your hip. 

Once he’d opened up your driver's door, you made quick work of pulling him close to you by his collar before kissing him properly. 

For a moment, he lost his balance as he leaned into you and you smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Once he managed to finally find his words, Bob nodded. “Always.”

You smiled, kissing him once more. “Good.”

But he stole a few more kisses before letting you go, waving you off as you pulled out of the parking lot. 

God, he was so in love with you.

He was gonna marry you one day. He knew that for certain. 

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.

about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.

“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”

the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns  as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt. 

yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”

another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.” 

“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.

“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”

“i told you, she’s a little shy,”  he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”

yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.

weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend. 

he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you. 

that’s created the very person he loves today. 

“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.” 

being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change. 

“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.” 

you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.” 

it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares. 

“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?” 

yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates  let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.” 

“o-oh.”

a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.

yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!” 

his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.” 

itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”

“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely. 

you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen. 

change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold. 

much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[drluvsick]

Hashiras x super cheerful excited golden retriever girlfriend PLSPSLSPSLPSLPSLS🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Reader is sunny , always smiling , laughing , extroverted , very strangely optimistic ^_^

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐄 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐬

hashiras with a sunny, optimistic s/o. 📝 ik the ask called for fem! reader but this can be read gn! as well. GOOSH I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO DO… ALSO i knew that if i just did this regularly for everyone it’d start becoming repetitive in each one, so i put them into categories first and then wrote down what might be different with each hashira— hence why some entries are pretty short. SORRY AGAIN!!

word count : 1.3k+

𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝙋𝙇𝘼𝙔𝙄𝙉𝙂 . . . 𝘚𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘈𝘠 𝘉𝘌𝘚𝘛 — 𝘚𝘜𝘙𝘍𝘈𝘊𝘌𝘚

MATCHES your energy perfectly. absolutely loves the positive vibes, it makes their entire day and they live for it.

— rengoku, mitsuri, tengen (mostly)

FINDS it refreshing. the corps needs more people like you to make the negative energies of demon slaying wash away. may not completely match your energy, but it makes them happy no doubt to see you spreading that positivity (it’ll rub off on them soon enough if it hasn’t already).

— shinobu, obanai, gyomei

FOUND you annoying at first. absolutely thought you were stupid. though, in the end, they fell anyways without meaning to— soon finding your positivity and shining personality charming.

— sanemi

TREATS you like an any other day person they’d react with on a daily basis until you start spending more and more time with them, congrats! you’ve invaded their hearts.

— giyu, muichiro

𝐆𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐈 𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐀

— you distract him from everything. you’re always so bright and happy that whenever he’s around you he can’t help but smile and forget all his worries and stresses.

— he likes that this is your true personality, not just some act.

— definitely falls further in love when you defend him from other slayers who question his capabilities as hashira due to his lack of sight.

— AND HE WILL DEFEND YOU whenever he senses that you’re sad because of another person. he cannot stand to hear you feel upset. it’s one of the rare times he’s passively aggressive towards someone, he simply just cares for you so much.

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈

— finds you interesting. and when he spots an interesting person, you best believe he’s going to investigate.

— loves talking to you about nothing in particular, whether you’re leading or he’s leading the conversation it’s bound to be a unique and enlightening chat.

— ABSOLUTELY bedazzles you with some of his flashy items so that you’re positively shining in and out.

— sometimes when he’s just down in the dumps he may find your positivity annoying and will voice it, but he always backtracks when he sees your smile go a fraction lower.

𝐆𝐈𝐘𝐔 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀

— this is a trope. it’s called extrovert x introvert. it’s also another trope called yapper x listener.

— you will spout out a whole paragraph or two about something and he’ll just give you a few nods to show he’s paying attention, maybe voicing his opinions once in a while with just a few words. but he’s definitely listening, after all, he loves hearing you speak.

— you go from just another person in his life to something way different, someone who recognizes him for something and doesn’t shun him like the others.

— he thinks that maybe—with you being a “look on the bright side,” kind of person—you’ll be able to see him from an angle that practically no one takes the time to see for themselves.

— he lets you hug him whenever you’re happy, but at the same time he hopes that you don’t hear his heart going a mile a second.

𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐈 𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

— it’s funny, really; how fast his memories from way back when go to rest whenever you’re nearby, how immediate the thoughts of his scars disappear as you come into view.

— he admires your consistency to stay positive among the lifelong struggles in this job as a demon slayer.

— showed his scars to you early on after you convinced him that looks alone wouldn’t change your opinions on him. he’s so glad he did, because after some much needed pep talking he’s absolutely ecstatic. he can breathe easier around you now, taking off the bandages whenever he likes because you’re just that much of a comfort to him.

— possessive & protective, if someone’s making you sad they are DEAD MEAT. HIDE

𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀

— fell so hard. and he didn’t even notice it! that smooth road from hating you to loving you never crossed any speed bumps that let him figure it out, it just hit him one day.

— “you can’t find positivity in everything. you’re bound to wake up to reality somewhere along this line of work.” sanemi said this to help himself so that he’d never be so hurt by your eventual sad expressions from who knows what. the only thing it succeeded in doing was convince you to prove him wrong.

— has the prettiest color on his face when he blushes at you complimenting or being enthusiastic at spending time with him, even if you’re enthusiastic at spending time with every hashira.

— it’s funny cuz he’ll just go from being so aggressive and mean towards you to just one day out of the blue being unusually gentle and kind. you bet he’ll be the first one to beat up whoever makes you cry or help you with your problems, because even if this man doesn’t see it, he is absolutely WHIPPED.

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎

— he just wants to hug you every time you’re around (and he does, with your consent of course)!

— two golden retrievers running around with no leashes and no restraints. everyone should be terrified

— he’s happy that there’s someone in the corps he can really talk to for days on end about anything if he’s ever looking for positive outlooks. someone who sees his point of views and matches his overly optimistic nature.

— gets a lil jealous when you’re like this around tengen but we shall not elaborate as he’s stomped those feelings down long ago

𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐈

— LOVES your energy SO MUCH. it makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside when you talk and laugh around her; she feels wanted.

— your hype girl. she will absolutely cheer for you whenever you need it and she’ll squeal when you pay her back with hugs or compliments.

— she never seems to need any words or comfort from you whenever she’s sad, because every time you walk in her point of view she immediately lights up and her mood does a whole switch.

— clicked easily with you when you first got introduced, definitely love at first sight for her.

𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐔 𝐊𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐎

— she’s surprised at first at how happy you could be in this line of profession, but soon after spending some more time with you she understands. you’ve given her a new reason to be happy everyday and she cherishes her genuine happiness closely.

— she refrains from teasing you as she does with giyu, because unlike with him she can’t stand to see your smile break even a little bit.

— likes the positive role model you present to her patients, encouraging them that everything was going to be okay and uplifting all the moods of all the people you speak with in her estate.

— eventually her own smiles will mirror your unfeigned ones over time. she thanks you heavily for that.

𝐌𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐎

— aloof with you as he does with most others at first. doesn’t understand the point and why you want to spend time with him so much—why it’d bring you so much joy to be around him.

— eventually he learns to tolerate it which leads to his days feeling unusually empty without you. he subconsciously asks for more missions with you with reasons that don’t fully make sense, but they’re more believable than “i don’t want to be apart from them.”

— and then when he regains his memories and the fog from his head is lifted; he’s absolutely smiling every time you’re around. he still dazes out of conversations once in a while, but that’s only because he’s busy looking at you.

— he comes to full terms with himself and hugs you a lot (to the point where he’d been called clingy by tengen a few times). he’s so, so happy with you and hopes you never fall to the line of work that you both reside in.

overluvsick | please do not repost, translate, and/or claim my works as yours !!

[lay-z]

I wrote this at work. Yes, I might be a secretary and personal assistant. Unfortunately, I do not work for Captain Price or TF-141...*sobs quietly* It's a little filthy. Minors DNI.  – 18+ Only! I might write more. Pairing: civvie!f!reader x Captain John Price (for now)

Warnings/Info: Personal assistant/secretary reader; flirting; age gap; restraints; orgasm denial; fingering; semi-public sex (I guess?); boss/employee dynamic

Landing the job as Captain Price’s personal assistant and secretary came as a total surprise to you – personally. To Captain Price, it was a no-brainer.

Speaking multiple languages, being discreet and introverted by nature and yet experiencing the constant craving for more adventure, variety and independence in your life, made you the absolute perfect fit. Furthermore, you were more than willing to leave your civilian life behind and move to the military base in the UK, where the TF-141 HQ is located. More plus points, because your work ethic is based on tidiness, determination and a no-bullshit attitude.

Work is easy enough for you; you help with translations, organise meetings, briefings and debriefings, help the Captain with his appointments, and more – typical personal assistant and secretary work.

Your work relationship with Price is based on mutual respect and it’s comfortable enough; he is nice to you, always polite, and makes sure you always know how much he appreciates your work.

One late Friday evening, while you’re still engrossed in a particularly difficult and, more specifically, classified transcript, Captain Price approaches you at your desk in your own office space, and you don’t even notice him, until he clears his throat loudly.

“Working late again, lass?” He asks you with that gruff, deep voice of his, and you can practically hear the slightly accusatory undertone in his voice. Price never likes it when you work unnecessary extra hours.

“Yes, sir. I just want to finish translating this transcript for you, so you’ll have it for the briefing on Monday morning,” you reply with a sheepish smile, leaning back in your office chair to stretch your back. You do catch the way his deep blue eyes roam over your outstretched form, albeit briefly, and Price notices how the buttons of your olive green blouse nearly pop open as the soft fabric strains over your ample breasts and how your curves look in that position, covered and accentuated by that tight black pencil skirt you like to wear at work.

“Fine,” the Captain responses gruffly, caving in immediately, because he appreciates the effort you put in your work.

“But if yer boyfriend shows up at HQ one day, trying to murder me for keeping you away from home all the bloody time, I’m not responsible for what might happen to him.” He adds good-naturedly, shooting you one of those rare, cheeky smiles of his.

“Ach, don’t worry, Captain,” you retort with a mock scoff, waving him off in a playfully dismissive manner – one only you’re allowed to display, because after working closely with Price and the rest of the 141 for over half a year, you’ve developed a sort of light-hearted friendship with all of them.

“There’s no one waiting for me at home anyway.” You admit fleetingly and when Price doesn’t comment on that little insight you’ve just given him on your personal life, he does look rather contemplative. He lets out a small huff.

“Aye, then,” he eventually says with a curt nod after a few beats of oddly tense silence between you two. “Don’t forget to lock up again once ye’re done, lass.”

Then he turns on his heavy combat boots, shaking his head while muttering something unintelligible under his breath as he leaves your office again, and suddenly, you can’t shake the feeling that you might’ve just made a huge mistake.

By Monday, you’ve all but forgotten about that interaction between your boss and yourself.

However, it doesn’t take long for you to notice the subtle changes in the work dynamic you’d carefully established with Captain Price over the past six months.

After bringing him his morning coffee – something you’ve more or less insisted on doing once you started working for him, because you’re nice and you enjoy doing little gestures for people you genuinely like – the Captain stops you in your tracks, before you can leave his office again.

“Aye, lass?” He calls after you, not looking up from the report he is currently working on as he sits behind his large and cluttered mahogany desk.

“Yes, Captain?”

You can see him hesitate for the briefest moment as his jaw works and clenches beneath his thick sideburns.

“Just call me John, yes? No need for formalities when we’re alone.” He tells you, still not making eye contact with you as you practically gape at him for a few seconds, unsure how to process the sudden and new privilege. Your eyelashes flutter briefly as you finally nod, though he’s still not looking at you and thus not seeing the slight smile now plastered on your lips.

“Yes, Ca – uh, John.”

As you step outside his office eventually, closing the heavy door behind you as you leave, you miss the sly yet pleased smirk that suddenly plays on the Captain’s lips.

And suddenly, Captain Price – John – who’s previously always been very considerate of your time on and off work and the boundary between your work life and privacy, becomes more present in your life and demanding of your attention than any ex-boyfriend of yours has ever been.

It starts with needing your help – a lot – with tasks and chores he’d never needed nor asked for your help before, like sorting and filing reports inside his office, while he himself is present.

At first, you’re just working alongside each other, going about your tasks, but once you notice him silently sipping his coffee, watching you, while you’re organising some old files and reports, you start to become suspicious.

“You used to always do this yourself, John,” you remark bluntly at some point after feeling his intense eyes on you for minutes on end, categorizing a pile of reports by date and classification, while he’s leaning back in his office chair, chewing on a cigar.

“Didn’t want me to mess with your work routine at all.” You add with a soft huff.

“True that, but see,” Price retorts nonchalantly. “I’ve come to terms with the fact that ye’re better at it anyway. Plus, I like to have ye around, darling. Helps keeping me sane.” He tells you with a low, rumbling chuckle – one that makes a sudden tingle run down your spine at his blunt admission.

“Yeah…right.” You scoff in return, keeping your back turned towards him as a hot blush creeps up your neck, tinting your cheeks red.

After the lingering gazes and cheeky comments, come the pet names and then the random gifts and then...the touches, and soon you find yourself in a whole new dynamic at work.

Your lips are shut tightly with only the occasional shaky and shallow breath blurting past them – because more is not allowed when John is in a work call.

With your back pressed flush against his broad chest, wrists tied together behind your back with a shoelace of a combat boot and your thighs spread wide apart as you’re sitting on his lap with your pencil skirt bunched up around your hips, Captain Price has pushed aside the flimsy fabric of your thong a while ago and is currently rubbing lazy circles around your slicked up clit with the calloused pad of his right forefinger while his left arm is embracing your midriff loosely, his large warm hand occasionally palming and squeezing your breasts over your white blouse.

You don’t know what he’s talking about with his superiors. As usual, your mind has shut off some time ago, now completely focused on not making a sound as he has ordered you to. All you can feel rather than hear is the vibration of his gruff voice as it reverberates from his chest against your back, his breath fanning over the side of your neck whenever he shifts and leans in to you on his office chair, and his thick fingers toying with your pussy, almost absentmindedly.

“It keeps me grounded, luv. Keeps me sane during these bloody conference calls.”  – That’s what John tells you whenever he randomly calls you into his office and asks you to lock the door behind you. Sometimes it happens multiple times a day and you’ve stopped bringing spare underwear to work, because your laundry keeps piling up. At this point, John calling you into his office is enough to get you wet, like some trained dog – Pavlov’s bitch. Classical conditioning.

“Doing so good for me, darling,” he murmurs against your ear and his accent has become somewhat thicker, his beard scratching over your flushed skin as he speaks only adds to the  sensations, after muting himself briefly, like he does sometimes – whether it is for praise or to chide you to stay quiet.

There’s that familiar needy plea burning on the tip of your tongue again, but you know uttering it will only end up with him biting back a rough chuckle and muting the call again to mock you, before edging you even worse for insubordination – long after the work call has ended.

“I might let you cum once if you keep being such a good little assistant for me,” He mutters lowly though there is a hint of teasing in his low, rough voice and he unmutes himself again, before he speeds up his ministrations on your throbbing clit, his fingers rubbing and flicking the sensitive bud mercilessly.

Then your back arches, wrists straining painfully against the bindings behind your back and your head lolls back against his hard shoulder while you choke back a desperate whine, swallowing it down helplessly, clenching your teeth while the tension in your lower abdomen coils deliciously and the muscles in your thighs twitch relentlessly, chasing after the release that John keeps denying you.

But before you can take a sharp inhale through your nose to brace yourself for the inevitable, eyes already rolling back into the sockets as your body tenses and your hips buck into his touch, the Captain withdraws his hand before lightly patting his fingers over your slick, pulsating cunt condescendingly.

“I said…I might, luv.” John whispers against the side of your neck, nuzzling his nose against your fluttering pulse point as you writhe on his lap, not bothering to mute himself this time.

“Uh, what was that, Captain?”

[heavenlymorals]

Details that I've noticed about Arthur Morgan-

-He, for the most part, despises male touch, especially if it's overly affectionate. He gets tense anytime a man hugs him and wants it to be over as quick as possible (Jamie, Mickey) and he looks visibly offended when Professor Bell touches him. He even sometimes gets annoyed when Dutch touches him on his shoulder, someone who he considers a father figure.

-On the flip side, he does not mind female touch at all. He even initiates it sometimes (Tilly, the girl at Beaver Hollow). Now one could argue that they were high stress situations, but if Tilly was a dude, he would've just set her free, make a snide remark, give her a gun, and then he'd expect her to help him with the fighting. He is completely cool with the nun giving him a hug and doesn't get offended when Mary Beth touches his hand in their therapy session.

- He seems to be pretty well read. He knows Shakespeare, with Romeo and Juliet, and Icarus. He makes other literary references. This is probably due to Dutch. Dutch is clearly very well read and cultured. However, Arthur seems more interested in practical works like guides then philosophy and stories, given that the only book he has on his tent desk is a plant guide.

- He's great at remembering faces and less so on remembering names.

- He does have an amazing propensity to remember physical features, like how he is able to create amazing portraits of the people he meets without consistent reference. It's incredible and works back to the whole great at remembering faces thing. Same goes for animals.

- He is very curious. He is always touching things, looking at things, critiquing things, and trying to understand how they work.

- He generally refuses to be emotionally open with men and does it only with women- this could be due to the idea of the Cult of Domesticity. I've made a post about it before. Compare him speaking with the nun to Reverend Swanson. Compare him speaking to John about Dutch leaving him to him speaking to Sadie about Dutch leaving him.

- He is very connected or is fond of artistic people. He and Mary Beth talk about their journals. He is fond of Albert Mason's photography and helps him out. He is interested in Charles Chataney's artistic work, even if he doesn't like it or connect with it.

- Since a lot of camp members respond to Arthur's antagonizations with something like "not again" or "I knew I'd be next", it's safe to assume Arthur will go off on people from time to time, regardless if you play high or low honor.

- Does not have a fixed temperament. In some missions, he is more energetic and in others, he is more downtrodden. Very realistic and I fucking love it.

- Has direct eye content at all times- will look anyone in the eye and does not give a fuck. NPCs will look away from him if he stares at them.

- Gets mad when men don't behave like men, especially when it concerns women. He gets pissed at John for not stepping up and being a man to his family. He gets annoyed and even pissed off when asking why Beau couldn't have helped Penelope Braithwaite as she is his woman.

- Given how the camp falls to shit whenever Arthur isn't donating, we can safely conclude that Arthur is the most valuable member of that camp, bar maybe Hosea and Dutch.

- He is very reminiscent of the Dark Romantic, which is really interesting as a lot of times, it can be looked at as the middle ground between Romantacism and Realism, two ideologies that were very popular in the 19th century. I will make a full analysis regarding this later.

- Introverted, but not shy at all. In fact, he's very charismatic and is just as good as dealing with people as Dutch and Hosea (The Riverboat Mission) This 'dumb, mumbling' cowboy thing he's dumbed down to in the fandom is an insult to his character.

- He probably acted like a father figure to Jamie Gillis when he was still with Mary, given the fact that he taught him how to ride a horse. Will probably also make a full post about this later.

- Some people say that Arthur is around 5'10-11. Others say He's 6'0-3. Whatever his height actually is, he's still way taller than the average man during this time period, who was around 5'6. Now imagine that with muscles and armed to the teeth- fucking terrifying.

- Very sentimental. He keeps a photo of his supposedly no good Pa and wears his hat. He keeps a photo of his mother who he doesn't really remember at all. He keeps a photo of his dog, a horseshoe that probably belonged to a dead and beloved horse. He keeps a flower from his mother. Keeps a photo of Mary as well. If he had a photo of Isaac, he'd probably keep that too.

-Arthur died at 36 years old from Tuberculosis if you play high honor. The real gunslinger and outlaw Doc Holliday died at the same exact age and the same exact way.

- Genuinely doesn't give a fuck about movements, social issues, and cultural issues, but does care about individual people.

- I love him

- So fucking much

- 😃

[joeyfranchise]

all tangled up in the moon

justin herbert x fem!reader

summary: you finally began feeling open to dating in your new home of sunny la, especially since your best friend didn’t love you back the way you loved him… unless he did? a telling double date begins unraveling feelings that you didn’t know were shared…

warnings: pining/mutual pining. expressions of feelings. a LOT of fluff. explicit sexual content, MDNI. 18+ only.

word count: 6.3k.

note: my first ever justin fic!! based on so many ideas from my bestie @joeyburrrow, also happy belated birthday btw 🫂 i’m sorry i didn’t get it posted yesterday! but, she and i have talked about so much of this and this fic truly is for her. ALSO— FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS FIC ONLY— i made justin allergic to walnuts. idk if he is or not, but it’ll make sense when you get there. i hope you like this. love you all. 💗

the dating pool in los angeles was nothing short of horrible.

sure, there were tons of people, which meant tons of options… but that also lead to some problems. there was so much diversity around, which again, is great… but it often led to mismatched partners and having trouble finding someone with all of the same interests or morals or values as you.

that being said, while messing around on dating apps, you found yourself a date that ticked more of your boxes than anyone else had since you moved to the sunny city.

his name was damon, and he worked at a law firm that wasn’t too far from your own nine-to-five job. his profile said he was 6’2, in his pictures he displayed a beautiful smile, and his interests were similar enough to yours that you figured why not give it a chance?

when you swiped right he’d messaged you nearly immediately, which could’ve been a red flag, but he kept it sweet and professional. his personality shined through his messages and you found yourself genuinely laughing at some of his jokes, and that was always a good sign.

you ran into one little problem though. you didn’t really know anyone else in l.a. except for your best friend, therefore you didn’t have many people to trust. sure, you had coworkers and acquaintances in the office, but none of them were around you enough to be able to vet through suitors from your dating life to let you know who would work and who wouldn’t.

you were also afraid to go out with someone new alone, and you blamed that on being an introvert. you ultimately made the decision that either damon would have to be okay with your first date being a double date, or you just wouldn’t go. when damon agreed it was fine, you called justin worriedly - this was going to be the hard part.

he picked up after two rings.

“is this the krusty krab?” you asked teasingly, smiling as you heard him huff out a brief laugh. he lowered his voice before answering.

“no, this is patrick.”

“yeah, justin patrick,” you teased, “unless i called the wrong brother.” you chewed on your bottom lip as you heard him chuckle again.

“that’s my name! don’t wear it out.” he joked. you could practically see the dumb grin already etched across his face. you remained silent for a moment, the weight of the question weighing on you. when you didn’t respond, justin took the lead of the conversation again.

“hey, y/n? you okay? not that i mind you calling me, of course i don’t mind… but did you need something? is everything alright?” you appreciated his ability to talk you down in moments like this, it was like he could sense your nerves even from miles away, and over a phone call.

“i’m okay. but i have a tiny favor to ask. you know you’re my most favorite best friend in the wholeee world, right?” you laughed, trying to push past the anxiety of the question you needed to ask him. “i do. what’s the favor?”

“i have a date friday night and i’ve never met him before. i didn’t know anyone else to ask and.. i was hoping maybe you and chloe could come along? like a double date?”

justin and chloe had started seeing each other recently, and you liked her enough not to really worry about their relationship. sure, she was living your dream being with justin, but you practically knew he didn’t feel the same about you. while you were completely and utterly in love with him, he still saw you as his best friend, and you had learned to accept it.

when you first met chloe you knew she wasn’t his type, she was completely different from justin… but he seemed happy, and that’s all you ever wanted for him. she was excited to meet you too, and in the few times you’d seen her since she was always genuine and kind.

“i think we can make that work, i should be out of practice in time. i’ll let chloe know and then we can figure out where to go. there’s a new restaurant downtown she and i went to a few weeks ago, you’d love it. they have really good raspberry cheesecake!” he said.

“oooh my favorite!” you cheered, already daydreaming of the delicious confection.

“i know.” he agreed. you smiled on the other end of the line, the way he knew you from cover to cover made your heart ache. you only hoped damon - and if not him, then whoever was destined for you - could be such a wonderful lover to you. someone who truly cared to learn everything there was to know about you, just like you and justin did with each other, even if only as friends.

you and justin talked for a bit longer over menial things before you ended the call, bidding him a goodnight. you made sure to text damon about your plans, letting him know you’d get back to him about a time as soon as you could.

he was excited for your date, and also excited to meet justin. you learned damon was a big fan of sports, and even though he wasn’t a chargers fan, he still really liked justin and thought he was a great player. he didn’t believe you when you first told him justin was your best friend, you had to provide him with photo evidence. the whole ordeal made you laugh. after chatting briefly with damon you put your phone on your bedside table before rolling over and getting cozy under your blankets.

you went to bed with a smile on your face that night, excited for your date with damon and also excited for him to meet your best friend.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

you sailed through the week on a high, and when friday night came you were still feeling ecstatic. you were still a little anxious about going out and meeting damon in person for the first time, but getting to know him through the week had helped you warm up a little and let your guard down.

you decided on wearing a simple black dress, classy yet not too-fancy. you curled your hair and applied a light layer of makeup before slipping on a pair of strappy black heels.

you planned on meeting justin and chloe at the restaurant at seven, giving everyone enough time to get ready and allowing justin to shower and freshen up after practice.

damon picked you up at six-thirty. he met you at your door with flowers which you graciously accepted, and you excused yourself to bring them inside and put them in water before locking up and going with damon to his car.

he opened your door for you and you slid in, buckling your seatbelt as you waited for him to get in and start the engine. it was a bit chilly out and you were grateful when damon turned up the heat before backing out of your driveway and heading to the restaurant.

you chatted with him on the drive and it was pretty pleasant, you were thankful that the conversation between you both flowed easily. you learned that his favorite football team was the los angeles rams, and you joked with him that he’d need to let you out of the car immediately because you wouldn’t stand for that nonsense.

he laughed heartily at your joke. he talked to you more about his job, you learned he was a paralegal and that he’d been in the profession for nearly four years. you told him about your experience working in human resources and you related over shared experiences.

when you arrived to the restaurant damon parked and came around to open your door, and you were quickly met by justin and chloe. damon and justin shook hands and introduced themselves to each other as you greeted chloe.

“i love your dress!” she smiled, you thanked her. “you look incredible too, chloe!”

she wore a light blue dress that came down mid-thigh and had long sleeves. she wore black heels as well, and you loved the glittery eyeshadow she had put on.

the four of you walked into the restaurant and justin spoke to the host about reservations he had so graciously called in - which you thanked him immensely for. the host led your party to a table toward the back of the restaurant and you all sat. damon made sure to pull out your chair, and justin did the same for chloe.

the waitress came by shortly after for your drink orders, you and justin both got water. chloe ordered a riesling and damon ordered a cabernet, which you found amusing. you didn’t say anything about it, though.

the waitress brought your drinks quickly and she also brought a basket of bread for the table, with little cups of cinnamon butter. you indulged in one as you listened to justin and damon begin chatting about football.

you and chloe began to chime in at times, and the atmosphere was nice. you and damon also engaged in your own quiet conversation every now and then, and you were starting to like it every time he’d flash you his award winning smile… until justin would smile at you from across the table. in those moments, you knew who your heart truly belonged to.

a few times during dinner the conversations would ebb off, or the input from chloe and damon would stop, leaving only you and justin talking to each other.

the waitress brought your food and you all began dining, while still chatting here and there about work and sports and things of that nature. the waitress came back around a bit later to take plates and your dessert orders. the men continued to talk while you and chloe ordered, with you asking for cheesecake and chloe ordering a fudgy brownie.

something damon said reminded justin of something he needed to tell you, and he turned his attention toward you quickly.

“y/n, i was meaning to tell you that my uncle had some students interested in trying to make a car run on vegetable oil.” you laughed at his statement before giving your input.

“so what, they want to install a second fuel tank i’m assuming? so the vehicle can run on diesel til it’s hot enough and then they’ll switch to the oil?” you ask. “yeah exactly. i thought it sounded pretty cool.” justin smiles. “sounds like a waste of time to me.” you say amusedly. justin tilts his head and gives you a questioning glance.

“it’s totally not a waste of time. if they can figure out how to do it, it’ll be pretty sick.” he disagrees. damon glances between you before chiming in. “i think it’d be pretty cool too!” he agrees with justin.

“do you know how many times they’d have to filter the oil before they could even use it? and they’d have to make sure to install a solenoid valve to switch between two fuel tanks. too much work.” you say, crossing your arms and looking back and forth between both men. chloe says nothing, you assume she has no idea what any of you are talking about.

you noticed damon checking the time on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket and rejoining your conversation, but mostly listening to you and justin bicker.

“it totally reminded me of that 70s show though, you know? when hyde says ‘there’s this car…. and it runs on water, man!’” justin laughs, doing a pretty decent impression of the character.

“i just feel like making modifications to your car so it could run off vegetable oil is a waste of time.” you say, leaning back slightly in your chair. justin’s girlfriend looks between the two of you with an odd look on her face, only breaking focus when she sees the waitress approaching again.

“here’s the double chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream,” she says, placing the plate in front of chloe, “and here are the slices of raspberry cheesecake.”

she places the plate in front of you and damon is quick to grab it, sliding his piece of cheesecake onto one of the extra serving plates. chloe picks her fork up excitedly, slicing into the brownie and taking a small bite. her eyes roll as she tastes it, the richness of the chocolate has to be delectable. you watch as she cuts another small bite, this time more toward the center of the brownie where you can see it has small pieces of walnut in it.

she reaches over to cup justin’s jaw, squeezing a bit to get him to open his mouth so she can feed it to him. you ignore the slightly jealous feeling bubbling in your stomach as she brings it closer to his mouth, but you can’t get your words out. justin looks at her with a puzzled expression. he hadn’t been paying attention to her or what she ordered, so he has no idea what she’s about to feed him.

as if on instinct, your hand shot across the table and closed around her wrist, stopping her from feeding him. “s-sorry.. uh, justin is allergic to walnuts.” you say, lowering your gaze so you don’t make eye contact with her. she lets go of his jaw and he shrugs sheepishly.

“sorry baby.” she tells him, eating the bite for herself. “it’s okay.” justin replies. his eyes find yours for a fleeting moment, nervous energy is shared between you. damon watches the entire ordeal silently, passing glances between the three of you as he eats his dessert.

you pick up your fork and take a bite too, and the tartness of the raspberry dances across your tongue in a pleasant way. justin was right with his recommendation, this restaurant truly is amazing. damon and justin begin conversing again, and you stay quiet as you eat, listening attentively.

chloe chimes in a few times, earning laughs from both men with her unintentional humor. you slide the last bite of cheesecake on your fork and bring it to your lips, ready to enjoy it, when suddenly your fork is plucked from your hand. you look up to find justin eating the last bite straight off of your fork. yours.

while you’re on a double date. with other people.

your gaze quickly flips from justin to chloe and then to damon as you try to gauge their expressions. damon doesn’t seem to notice or care as he continues talking about football, and justin nods along with what damon is saying as if this ordeal was the most normal thing that has ever happened.

sure, you and justin are close enough to eat off each others forks and sometimes even drink from the same cup or can, but the fact that he did it on a double date baffled you. neither of the men at the table seemed to be giving it a second thought, but when your gaze shifts to chloe you can tell she’s perturbed in some way. her eyes are slightly squinted as she looks you up and and down, and then her gaze shifts to justin as she does the same to him.

you continue to sit quietly at the table, listening to the men talk. chloe stays quiet, too. the tension between the two of you feels almost palpable.

you would never want to come between her and justin, even if you did have feelings for him throughout all these years.

the rest of the time spent in the restaurant went by in a blur. eventually damon and justin stopped talking, realizing that you and chloe hadn’t shared a word, and they mutually decided that dinner should be over.

damon and justin split the checks and pay before each of you stand from the table to leave. when you make it outside you suck in a deep breath of the fresh air, you’ve felt like you were suffocating for the last fifteen minutes. all of you say goodbye to each other before you get into damon’s car, and chloe into justin’s.

the drive back to your house is quiet. you’re anxious, your throat feels tight and you know your cheeks must be incredibly pink. damon hasn’t even glanced at you and you’re afraid to say a word because if you do you’ll start crying.

he finally pulls into your drive and parks the car before looking at you for the first time since you left the restaurant. you wring your hands together before looking back at him, expecting the worst.

“that was fun, justin is a really nice guy.” his voice is genuine as he speaks to you, but you’re prepared for where this is going. “he loves you, y/n.”

you look at him with bewilderment as he continues speaking. you want to say something, but he holds up a finger to tell you to wait. “before you start with the whole ‘he doesn’t feel that way about me’ spiel, he does. i saw how you looked at each other all night. he doesn’t look at her like that.”

tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes as he speaks, and you turn your gaze from his so he won’t see. “you love each other, y/n. it’s okay. i had fun, i’m glad i met you.” he says, reaching over the console to grab your hand. he gives it a gentle squeeze and you look back up at him as he smiles at you. “i would like to be your friend, if that’s okay.”

“yeah, we can stay friends, of course.” you tell him. he lets go of your hand and gets out of the car, circling around to get your door and walk you up the front steps. before you can walk up damon pulls you in for a hug, which you reluctantly accept.

“it was nice meeting and going out with you, y/n. don’t be a stranger!” he says, and then he lets you go and gets back into his car, driving off down the street.

you let yourself in the house and lock the door behind you before collapsing on the couch. you don’t have the energy to move, to take off your shoes, or to even be worried about your makeup.

you just sit there, and you cry. you cry for all the lost time, if it is true and he does love you. and if damon’s wrong, and you do take the time to tell justin how you feel and he rejects you… well, you should go ahead and cry for that too. you cry for the only boy you’ve ever loved.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

justin buckles his seatbelt and holds his foot down on the brake before backing out of his parking spot at the restaurant, ready to get home and into more comfortable clothing. chloe sits beside him silent, like she did for most of the dinner.

he spares a glance her way and notices her posture is rigid, her lips are pressed into a tight, thin line. justin reaches over to grasp her hand but she flinches away from his touch.

“are you okay?” he asks her, his tone concerned. “i’m okay. can you take me to my house, please?” she asks. her voice sounds small, she sounds upset.

“of course.” justin agrees. they hadn’t been dating long enough to make the steps to move in together, but chloe frequented his house often as long as he was home. he thought it was a bit strange that she wanted to go home, but he waited to question it.

when he pulled in her driveway and parked she was quick to jump out of the car and make her way inside. justin turned the car off and pocketed the keys before following chloe inside.

“um, is everything okay?” he asked, stepping into the living room. “no. we need to talk.” chloe said, sitting down on the couch. justin sat next to her and place a reassuring hand on her knee as he waited for her to speak.

“i think we should break up.”

justin is taken aback by her confession, but he doesn’t speak. he waits to hear her out. “i really like you, justin. and i think you like me. but you don’t love me. and you never will, because you love someone else.”

“what?” he asks, his tone incredulous. “you love y/n, justin. you know it, i know it, everyone on the planet knows it… except for her. i think you’re both idiots.” chloe smiles softly.

justin looks around the room nervously, waiting for chloe to speak again. “you’re both idiots because what you’ve been looking for has been in front of you the whole time. it was obvious you two should have been on a date. you both carried the conversation, you were doing silly impressions to make her laugh… you look at her like she’s your most prized possession, justin.”

he takes a deep breath before looking at chloe and finally speaking. “i’m sorry.” is all he’s able to mutter out.

“you don’t need to apologize. i’ll admit, i was upset at first. but on the drive i thought about it, and i just want you to be happy. and i figured someone needed to tell you that girl loves you, because if the two of you have been friends this long and you haven’t figured it out, i’m afraid you never will.” she laughs. “and god, i didn’t even know you were allergic to walnuts.”

justin laughs too before reaching over and pulling chloe into him for a hug. “thank you for telling me all that… and i am sorry. i really am.”

“it’s okay, justin. just get the girl, okay?” she says, shooing him out the door. he waves goodbye before walking off to his car and heading home.

when he arrives home he sits in the driveway pondering… did you really love him back? and if you have, how long? and what was he going to do?

he thinks of all the time he’s lost out on if it’s true, and you do love him back. he’d supressed the feelings for as long as he could remember because he never knew he had a chance - he never thought he’d be the one for you. and if he wasn’t he knew it’d break him, but all he wanted was your happiness.

all he knew right now was that he loved you, that you were the only girl he’d ever loved.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

you don’t talk to justin for a week.

you’re afraid to. usually, he’s the first person you run to about anything, but since the subject matter is him, you feel like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. you spend the entire week sad, crying into your coffee or whatever dinner you’ve chosen to eat after work (usually cereal), and watching lifetime movies that are guaranteed to make you feel worse - they make the longing in your chest burn.

justin finally texts you on friday night, and you’re afraid to open it. you let it sit unread for half an hour before your phone starts ringing on the end table. it’s justin, you know it is, but you’re afraid to answer. you pick up your phone slowly and slide your thumb across the screen to answer the call.

“hello?” you sniffle, picking up a tissue to wipe your nose. “hey y/n, you okay?” justin asks.

“yeah, lifetime movie, sorry. what’s up?”

“just wanted to see if you wanna come over and hangout? i haven’t heard from you all week, i miss you.” he says. you miss him too. but are you ready to see him after what happened?

against your better judgment, you agree to go over. after all, he is your best friend. if anyone can get you feeling better, it’s justin. you hang up the call and slide on your slippers before grabbing your keys and phone and heading over to his house.

you didn’t bother changing, you didn’t care what you looked like in front of him. he’d seen you sick as a dog before, he even held your hair when you puked a few times, so he could handle seeing you in an old ratty tshirt and sweatpants that were a few sizes too big.

there’s also no way he could ever judge you for having greasy hair.

you make the quick drive to his place and you almost panic and leave before calming yourself down and walking to the front door. it’s just justin. this is no big deal.

you knock twice but you know he already knows you’re there, and he swings the door open quickly before pulling you into a tight hug. physical affection is something you both enjoy, and you’ve missed him. you wrap your arms tightly around him and squeeze back.

justin laughs as he looks down at you. “sometimes i forget how small you are.”

“or maybe you’re sasquatch.” you say, giving him a shove. he lets go and steps aside so you can get in the door, and you waste no time in sliding your slippers off plopping down on his couch. you notice his house seems a little… different, but you can’t put your finger on it.

justin closes the door and makes his way over to you, acting like he’s going to sit on your lap. “don’t even think about it.” you tell him, bringing your legs up to your chest. he sits next to you and leans into your side.

“how was your week?” he asks you innocently. “it was horrible.” you reply. you share the most miniscule details with him when he tries pressing you further, because you’re too afraid to tell him what’s really wrong. justin listens intently either way, hoping to find something he can do to make you feel better.

“well how’s it been with damon?” he finally asks, and you freeze. justin moves so he can lay his head on your lap, and he straightens out your legs before doing so. your hand naturally finds its way into his hair, your nails raking along his scalp soothingly. he shudders.

“damon um… well. he didn’t wanna go on another date. it wasn’t because he didn’t like me, though. he just said… he could tell u didn’t like him.”

justin hums softly. “interesting.” he says.

“what’s interesting?” you ask him. “chloe broke up with me.”

“WHAT?” you shout, startling him a bit. “sorry… i mean, what? why? i thought you guys really liked each other?”

“well, she liked me a lot. and i liked her but… i don’t love her. she really helped me realize a lot of feelings i had that i’d been holding back.” he turns his head to look up at you and smiles and - oh. oh.

the look he’s giving you seems to be full of pure adoration, pure love. and you realize that he always looks at you like this.

tears start to form in your eyes again and justin sits up, this time pulling you into his lap. “you okay?” he asks, soothingly rubbing his hand over your back.

that’s why it seemed different - all her stuff was gone.

“i don’t know. what’s happening here?” you ask him, burying your face in his neck. “chloe helped me realize that i love you, y/n. i always knew it, deep down. but… i don’t know. i never really thought you felt the same.”

“damon said the same to me. that he could, um, tell we loved each other. are we just stupid?” you ask him, pulling away from his neck to look in his eyes.

“apparently two idiots in love.” he says. his hand finds the back of your hair and smooths over it softly before he pulls you into his neck again, crushing you in another hug.

“so where do we go from here?” you ask, enjoying his embrace. “i guess forward.” he jokes, poking at your sides. “together, of course, if you want that. as a couple.”

you can’t help the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you as he speaks. of course you want that, it’s all you’ve ever wanted. “i love you, justin.” you finally say, and being able to tell him to his face is like a dream come true. “i love you back.” he says softly. you meet his gaze once again and he looks nervous, but you aren’t sure why.

“what’s wrong?” you ask him sweetly. you softly touch his cheek, smoothing over it with your thumb. he doesn’t say another word, but he leans in and kisses you.

you feel dizzy, your heart is pounding incredibly hard against your chest. justin is over the moon too. your lips begin moving in sync, neither of you able to catch a decent breath as you devour each other hungrily. justin's hands find your waist and he pulls you into him further, and your arms circle around his neck.

he pulls away for a second before jumping right back in, awkwardly bumping his nose against yours. you both laugh before kissing again. this is truly what euphoria feels like. you don’t know how long you both sit there taking each other apart, whether it’s minutes, hours or days.

what matters is it’s happening. finally.

your hands trail down his biceps as he continues kissing you, leaving a trail from the corner of your mouth down to the exposed column of your throat. your breath hitches when his lips meet one of your most sensitive spots, right where your neck meets your shoulder. “you okay?” he says, sounding concerned.

“i’m nervous.” you whisper. his gaze is soft as he looks at you, half smile spreading across his face. “it’s okay,” he whispers back, “we don’t have to take this any further until you’re ready.”

you hug him again and kiss his cheek softly. “i want to. i’m just nervous.”

“there’s no reason to be afraid.” he assures you. “do you wanna…” he starts, cocking his head to the side and motioning toward the direction of his bedroom. you nod a simple yes.

he stands with you and leads you down the hall to his room, although you know very well where it is. you’ve spent countless nights here cuddled up with him.

he twists the knob slowly and pushes the door open before guiding you inside, and meeting your lips with his again. the kiss is soft and gentle, and he walks you back toward his bed without breaking contact. once you’ve reached the side of the bed he pulls away and reaches behind himself with one arm, grabbing his shirt and yanking it over his head in one swift motion.

uou hop up onto his bed and get cozy against the pillows as he crawls onto the bed too, leaning over you. you rake your nails over the planes of his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead. his fingertips find the hem of your sweater and his gaze meets yours, waiting for your approval. you nod, and he slides both hands under it before lifting it over your head.

you’re wearing a simple white bra, but justin is looking at you like you’ve just descended down from heaven. you know he won’t ask you to take it off so you let what little bit of confidence you have flowing through your veins take over, and you quickly reach behind you to unclasp it.

justin sucks in a deep breath at the sight of you. you’re easily the most breathtaking woman he’s ever seen in his life, you have been since he first laid eyes on you… but seeing you like this… he feels like he’s died and made it to the afterlife.

you don’t hide your gawking either, his toned body has always been something you’ve enjoyed staring at whether he noticed it or not. “you’re so beautiful,” justin tells you, leaning in to capture your lips again. as he crawls over your body you can feel his length through his sweatpants, it lays hard and heavy over your leg. you shudder at the thought of it.

justin’s hands slide up your torso and he caresses your breasts softly before tweaking both of your nipples with his thumbs and forefingers. you arch upward into him and your body is covered in gooseflesh as you await his touch again.

you’ve never felt such pleasure and satisfaction in your life, and he’s only barely started. you’re sure that you’ve soaked through your panties and sweatpants at this point. he continues to grab at your chest as he kisses you and you moan out his name softly, causing him to rut against your leg. he needs you just as much as you need him, you can tell.

“justin, i’m ready. i want you.” you tell him, breaking away from his kiss to look into his eyes. he smiles down at you and raises his eyebrow, making sure one more time. “i’m ready.” you promise him. his hands grab the waistband of your sweatpants before pulling them down your legs quickly, along with your panties.

he pulls his off next and your mouth falls open, gawking at the sight in front of you. sure… justin was 6’6, everything about him was big… but holy shit. he is huge.

he smiles at you nervously before reassuring you, “it’ll be okay, i won’t hurt you. i swear.” you almost think you could faint at how cute and sexy he his. you tell him you don’t need any prep but he won’t allow it, and he uses the pad of his thumb to circle your clit quickly as he enters two fingers into you to work you open.

after a few minutes you’re ready, you can’t take anymore and you’re practically begging him to fuck you. he blushes at the sound of your moans, but his chest fills with pride knowing he’s making you feel so good. he pulls his fingers from your soaking heat slowly before wrapping his hand around his cock and giving it a few strokes. you let him situate your body how he needs to and he ends up with your ankles right at his shoulders as he prepares to push into you.

he’s lucky you’re flexible. his lips find yours again as he pushes in and your thankful because his kisses swallow your gasps. he moves slowly, inch by inch until he’s fully seated, and he waits a few minutes before moving so he doesn’t hurt you. when he finally pulls out and pushes back in, he moans loudly at how amazing you feel around him. you moan too, you’ve never felt so full in your life - and you’ve never felt so fulfilled either.

he moves to kiss you again and bumps his nose against yours again sweetly as his hands find yours and he tangles your fingers together. his movements are calculated, slow and methodical as he takes you apart, and unravels you in the very best way.

the room is filled with soft moans and labored breaths and the sounds of you kissing each other anywhere your lips can find. it doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak and tears prick at your eyes when you do. this is all you’ve ever wanted, and it’s beautiful, it’s magical. justin feels the same.

you warn him that you’re close and he tells you it’s okay, you can let go for him. “cum for me, it’s okay. i love you, y/n.” and that’s all it takes. his admission of love knocks you straight over the edge and into the thrashing waters, your orgasm taking over your whole body. he cums soon after, his body enjoying the feeling of you squeezing him as he rides out his high.

when he pulls out of you he stand quickly, running off to his bathroom to grab a warm wet towel to clean you both up. he didn’t bother asking if you were on the pill, he already knows every aspect of your life anyway.

justin cleans all your sensitive areas with the warm rag before wiping himself off and sliding back into bed with you, pulling the covers over your bodies.

“that was amazing.” you admit.

“yeah it was. you know how long we could’ve been doing that?” he laughs, and you giggle too. “i love you.” you tell him. “i love you too, so much. can i tell you something stupidly embarrassing, though?” he asks, and you roll over to face him. “oh god, what justin?”

“remember after we graduated, right after you turned eighteen and we had that pool party?”

“yeah, i remember.” you say. it was one of your fondest memories, actually. “that little yellow bikini you wore… i just thought i should admit to you now that i thought about you in that so much when i was jerking it that i thought my dick would fall off.”

both of you erupt in laughter, the admission funny and embarrassing, although endearing too. “that’s okay, remember right before we went to college and you were teaching me how to drive but you kept getting frustrated and yelling at me? i thought that was the hottest i’d ever seen you.” you say. he pulls you into his chest and kisses you softly.

“you’re getting me all worked up again, baby,” he laughs, kissing at your cheek toward your ear. “looks like we’re gonna have to go for round two.”

- - -

taglist: @slimshiesty @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989

photos and dividers used are not mine, all cred to owners.

[bones4thecats]

Hello! I saw that request are open again and i really want to request headcanons from twisted wonderland!

I wanted to ask for headcanons of malleus, sebek and leona with a significant other with the personality and background of elsa! I mean, s/o is really introverted, shy, studious and prim but also has so much fear of their powers due a traumatic event in their lives and have problems with let go all the pressure and fear they have but eventually learn how to control their power better.

I hope this is not such a heavy request and youre free to decline this! I hope youre doing well in real life!

↳ Conceal, Don't Feel.

A Twisted Wonderland × Elsa! Reader.

Requester: @ultravioletqueen.

Characters Included: Malleus Draconia, Sebek Zigvolt, and Leona Kingscholar.

Possible Trigger Warnings: Accidental physical harm caused from sibling to sibling, mentions of parental death, attempted murder, and isolation.

●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●～●

🐉 Malleus uses magic in a lot of his daily activities. It's practically in a fae's DNA to use magic often. But, for you? You despised using magic. More specifically, you hated using your magic. 🐉 Your boyfriend noticed your hesitation to use your unique spell to defend yourself against an attack sent by Lilia in a spar. His green eyes widened and pupils narrowed when you flinched and jumped away instead of blasting back.

🐉 He asked what it was all about, and was shocked to hear you were told to suppress your magic due to its strength and danger against your younger sibling. 🐉 Malleus hugged you from the side and asked if you believed him to be dangerous because of his own magical prowess. You jumped and looked at him shocked, yelling a no and an explanation on why you knew him to be safe, not a monster. 🐉 When you finished, he smiled at you. "How am I not a danger, yet you are?"

⚡ Sebek was sort of scared of you at first. When you arrived at Night Raven College, your magic was still a little stray and was heavy dependable on your emotions. Let's just say hiding it all and then releasing it wasn't a very good move. ⚡ He and you began dating after your own overblot. It seemed impossible to many, as you were a first year, and your magical capabilities should have been below a second year's. But, it happened, and the world around began to freeze over. ⚡ Sebek's eyes were teared up when you began to scream in pain, ice overtaking your form. Your fingers were like icicles and your pupils snowflakes. He screamed for you to listen to him and not the thought in your mind. ⚡ "Your strength is not something to be scared of! Being strong is something you should take pride in! Your magic is beautiful, not monstrous!" He began to walk through the raging storm, leaving the sights of his fellow first years as he called out to you. ⚡ "Please- just come back to us! Come back to me! I love you!"

🦁 Leona and you had very different views on magic. He found it to be useful in multiple ways. You found it to be troublesome and something that would only tear people apart. 🦁 Maybe that was because it tore you and your younger sibling apart. 🦁 He knew you and your sibling had a harsh relationship, even harsher than he and his brother. You and they used to be very close; playing around anytime you got the chance. But, after you accidentally blasted them with your magic, you isolated yourself. 🦁 Leona tried getting you to contact them more, as you tried getting him to contact his brother more. But, he always failed. Eventually, he caught your sibling walking around campus, asking for you. 🦁 He was unsure if you wanted to see them at the moment, so he messaged you. When you told him to keep them away for now so you could get ready, he said he'd get Ruggie on the case. 🦁 While Ruggie busied your sibling, Leona sat in his room with you beside him. You were sobbing into his chest, while he just held onto you like a pillow. 🦁 "Don't worry, Frosty. I'm right here."

🌊 Copyright © 2025 by Bones4thecats on Tumblr. All Rights Reserved. 🌊

[demie90s]

Use Your Heart

UConn WBB Team x fem!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Summary: Your anxiety has been getting harder to hide. But when your baby sister visits for the weekend, the team sees the side of her she never lets out.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, slice of life, team bonding, quiet softness, found family

Warnings: Mental health themes (anxiety, emotional burnout), implied crying, emotional vulnerability, soft angst with a healing resolution

Word Count: ~0.5k

It’s been hard to explain lately. The way my thoughts don’t slow down, the way even breathing feels like work. Like I’m stuck underwater but somehow still expected to run a mile. I’ve been quiet. Quieter than usual. People think I’m just introverted, but this is something else. This is the kind of quiet that comes with exhaustion, with a hollowness I can’t quite name. And I’ve been trying—God knows I’ve been trying—to keep showing up, to stay present. But it’s not working.

Geno knows something’s wrong. I can see it in the way his voice lowers around me. In the way he hesitates before yelling. He still pushes me, still expects effort, but there’s a different edge to it now. Like he’s not trying to break me—just hold the pieces steady.

KK lingers after practice, always starting with a “yo, you good?” and never pushing when I lie with a nod. Jana tries to make me laugh in the locker room, tapping my shoe with hers under the bench when she sees me zoning out. Azzi doesn’t ask questions—she just passes me the ball, stays close, makes the silence feel less lonely. Nika watches me like she’s trying to solve a puzzle. Aubrey gives me her granola bar every morning without saying a word. Paige starts taking my bag before I even reach for it. Ayanna leans her head on my shoulder like she’s trying to share her calm with me. Inês braids a piece of her hair next to mine and pretends it’s nothing.

They care. I know that. And that makes it harder. Because I feel like I’m dragging the whole team down. I don’t want to be dead weight. I don’t want to be the quiet cloud hovering in every group photo. But I’m just… gone. Checked out. Living with the volume turned all the way down.

Until my sister shows up.

She’s six. A whole beam of sunlight with no dimmer switch. My mom drops her off Saturday morning, bags packed and smile tired. She kisses my forehead and says, “Take her for the weekend. I need a break. And so do you.”

She’s right.

It starts with her little fingers grabbing mine. The moment she sees me, she yells my name and launches herself into my arms like no time’s passed. She smells like strawberry shampoo and cereal. She looks up at me with those big brown eyes and says, “Did you miss me? ‘Cause I missed you all the way from home.”

And I crumble. Right there in the hallway.

The team doesn’t know she’s here. We head to the gym, just me and her, and for the first time in weeks I feel like I can breathe. I tie her shoelaces tight, help her with layups, lift her onto my shoulders when she begs to “dunk like LeBron.” I’m laughing again. Full-out belly laughing. We play horse. We play tag. We eat snacks off a towel like it’s a picnic on the hardwood. I don’t even notice when the gym door opens.

But they do.

Azzi’s the first one to spot us. Then Paige. Then the others trickle in. One by one, they all stop in the doorway like they’re afraid to interrupt.

Because I’m glowing. And they’ve never seen it.

My sister shoots, misses, runs to me with a giggle. “That was your fault,” she says, “you weren’t watching close enough.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” I smile, lifting her up. “I’m watching now.”

Geno leans in the doorway, arms crossed. “So this is the secret to making you smile, huh?”

I flush, looking down. “She’s… she’s kinda my person.”

“She’s a good one,” he says, soft. “Looks good on you.”

—

That night, I stay up late with her, making things. Construction paper, paint pens, tape and glue. She yawns beside me, but I can’t stop. My hands need to move. I need them to say what I haven’t been able to.

So I make something for each of them.

For KK, a beaded bracelet that spells out “Girly Pop.”

For Jana, a tiny watercolor of her pulling a funny face at me.

For Paige, a paper crown that reads “Lightweight, Heavy Heart” because she carries more than she lets on.

For Azzi, a tiny keychain of her number made out of clay.

For Nika, a hand-cut puzzle piece with “You always see me.”

For Aubrey, a felt flower that matches her scrunchie.

For Ayanna, a stress ball shaped like a cloud.

For Inês, a bookmark with our names written in Portuguese and English.

And for Geno… a dad hat. Painted with glitter glue and all. The words “BEST (almost) DAD” scribbled across the brim in crooked letters. My sister helped with that one. She insisted he’d like sparkles.

I put everything in little bags. I leave them in their lockers Sunday night before anyone gets there. No notes. Just gifts. My apology without the words.

I didn’t mean to disappear. But thank you for not letting me vanish completely.

The gym is quiet the next morning. Early light filters in through the windows, cold and soft, catching the edges of dust in the air. You’re sitting on the bench with your sister curled up in your lap, her cheek smushed against your chest, still wearing her pink hoodie with the unicorn ears. Her little legs are wrapped in your oversized UConn hoodie, and she’s humming—quiet, aimless, happy.

The locker room is starting to stir. You hear laughter, shoes squeaking, the clatter of water bottles, and then the shift—when they start finding the gifts.

It’s quiet for a second too long.

Then KK walks out with her bracelet between her fingers, eyebrows furrowed like it means more than she knows how to say. Jana follows, holding the watercolor, staring at it like she’s seeing you for the first time. Paige appears behind her, cardboard crown tilted on her head, shaking it with a crooked grin.

“Yo,” she calls out, walking into the gym, “who made all this?” You glance down at your sister.

She lifts her head like it’s her cue, eyes wide and serious now. “My sissy did.”

Azzi walks up first, keychain looped around her finger, and crouches beside the bench. “These are beautiful,” she says gently. “She really made them all?”

Your sister nods hard. “She didn’t sleep.”

Azzi looks up at you, but you’re watching the floor, jaw tight. You’re not used to being seen like this.

“She gets sad sometimes,” your sister says, voice small but certain. “But she’s really, really good. Like… her heart’s just too big, like the grinch..but the good part.”

Azzi swallows, eyes glinting with emotion.

“But she’s strong too,” your sister continues, nodding. “Like, she might cry, but then she’ll go do a hard thing anyway…. She won’t let you down.” Now the others are listening.

Inês sits on your other side and hands your sister a protein bar. “That was very brave,” she says softly.

“Thank you for making my sister happy,” your sister tells her seriously. Then she looks at each of them, one by one. “All of you. She smiles more now. Not a lot, but… more.”

You bury your face in her hair. KK sits cross-legged in front of you. “You really made this for me?” she asks, holding up the bracelet.

You nod slowly, eyes still hidden.

“Awww pookie I love you,” she says.

Geno strolls in last, wearing his glittery ‘BEST (almost) DAD’ hat like it’s designer. The whole team stares, waiting for him to roast it.

But he just shrugs. “Fits like a charm.”

Your sister claps, then tugs your sleeve. “See?” she whispers. “They love you.”

You don’t say a word. You just hold her tighter. But your heart feels a little quieter for the first time in weeks.

And they all see it now. Not just your sadness. But your softness. And they start loving you the way you’ve always loved your sister—unconditionally.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog

[yaseraphine]

pick a card 11 - the dynamic between you and your future lover

masterlist / ko-fi

my last reading : who is your future lover ? a full portrait.

/!\ My shop will open the 13th of April !! Beware though because the day and time of release could change at any moment. I will try as much as I can to update you guys. /!\

Pile 1

I am sensing a quiet but careful and watchful vibe between you two. Like two introverts who quietly like each other, and do acts of service to each other secretly. You guys will have a more bashful approach to the way you share your love to one another. But, this bashfulness will not mean you guys don’t deeply love and care for each other. I am hearing the sentence “A listener needs a listener too”. Maybe you guys were always the one that listened to other people’s problems, you were the “therapist” friend, always here to guide and have an open ear to your friends, and even strangers. I think a lot of times, strangers spilled their entire life story to you, and even their deepest traumas, unrequested. Despite being shocked by what you heard, you still remained composed and tried to reassure them.

This future lover will be really similar to you : a calm, sage, and empathetic soul. 

Queen of Pentacles, The Hermit and The Lovers

Two major arcanas for you guys’ dynamic as well as a queen ! Damn ! I wouldn’t be surprised if your future lover is some kind of soulmate, or if they were just sent as positive karma after you learned major lessons. You will finally find a peaceful and reasonable person to talk to when you're struggling. The exchange will finally be equal, and you will not give more than you receive. You will not be the emotional shield, the person that people come to when they have an issue. Finally, someone will want to hear what you have to say back. They will finish their turn to speak and ask you : “and you ?”. This might surprise you at first. “Someone finally is interested in what I have to say?...”

Genuinely, the dynamic between you and your future lover reminds me of the dynamic between Lexi and Fezco in Euphoria. They first get to know each other at a party, and Lexi didn’t think much of him at first (was even a bit judgemental at first). But then, as the conversation progresses, Fezco shows genuine interest towards her, which surprises her. They end up having a really interesting conversation about religion and beliefs. 

Anyways, all that to say is that your future lover will provide a balance that you terribly lacked in all of your exchanges and relationships so far (friendships included). This will heal you, but, initially, you might be a bit wary because you are simply not used to being treated that way. You will really quickly, however, accept the dynamic and get used to it. You will accept that you desire this kind of quiet, and peaceful love. Not a one that screams at you, or that gets you worried late at night because you got left on delivered for two days now. This love will grow slowly. You will probably not even expect it to go the route it will go. But this love will flow naturally. 

One other thing to add is that before I even started to shuffle for your tarot cards, a pin I saved a while ago on Pinterest came to mind. I think it is an image extracted from some kind of  K-drama/ korean movie. That is actually where the quote “ A listener needs a listener too” came to mind. I am sharing the picture because I think it encapsulates you guys’ dynamic quite well. 

Also another quote to describe you guys’ dynamic is : We can be alone..together.

You guys might do a lot of late night walks, deep talks, stargazing, admiring nature, writing poetry, debating (calmly) about the meaning of life, sharing your existential thoughts to one another. Really artsy but practical lovers. You guys might have earth venuses, especially Virgo or/ Capricorn venus. 

Love that for you pile 1 ! Again, as usual, lots of love to you. You deserve this and never lose hope, this love will find you <3

Pile 2

This is my power couple, judgy, “you can’t sit with us” pile. You and your future lover might be two fashionistas getting together. You guys will go thrift shopping, go to pop up stores of new upcoming independent clothing brands and all that jazz. You will plan each other’s outfits, and do special days where you guys have matching outfits together. You guys will be the talk of the town, the “it” couple. You both seem mysterious, unapproachable and almost feared. If you have a social media presence (I am especially seeing instagram but it could be anything), you dating this person will be a boost in their popularity. It could also be the other way round : either you will be the already popular one in the couple, or they will be some kind of influencer (fashion and lifestyle most likely) so you’ll be put in the limelight while dating them. You might start your own account and start posting content too. Even if it isn’t exactly social media, this person’s presence in your life will bring a boost in popularity for you, and It will be beneficial for your goals/career.

4 of Pentacles, (BOD - Back Of the Deck / 9 of Wands), 8 of Pentacles, 7 of Pentacles 

Heavy earth energies for your guys’ dynamic. There is a strong sense you guys will match each other on goals and more practical terms. However, the earth energy comes up here more..superficial ?? I don’t want to throw you off, but the dynamic feels really based on mutual physical attraction and how you guys look next to each other and to society. It feels like this :  “I vibe with this person. They look hot and I do too so we make sense together, we look good next to each other. We add necessary and valuable things to each other” (here, reputation and social status). You might like them, but I don’t think it's a fairytale kind of romance. It is really capricorn/taurus-like. It’s all about how you guys appear in society, and what you can bring to each other’s lives. I am hearing : “What do you bring to the table ?”. This is this kind of dynamic.

I am saying all of this because the core dynamic of your couple is the 4 of Pentacles, which is a card that indicates possession, control, scarcity and, to me, also hoarding, greediness, and stinginess. You don’t want to share your assets with others so you keep them close to your chest in fear of people taking from it. It’s all about control of material possessions and what you have. Each of you are represented by the 8 of Pentacles (you) and the 7 of Pentacles (them). These cards are, again, pentacle cards (earth energy) and they follow each other in the suit. So, yeah, your relationship might be more based on physical and more superficial stuff, but you guys are actual soulmates or have a really major purpose in each other’s life. I am saying this because you guys are complementary (the two cards follow each other) and because, at some point, The Lovers card wanted to fall for your future lover, which to me can be a card that indicates a soulmate. 

This is not a typical lovey dovey soulmate, but it will still have a long term (mostly) positive impact in your life. 

(It was so hard finding good (or more so the ones i wanted) lesbian couples pics man I swear to God I think pinterest is homophobic #justiceforlesbians #lesbiancouplesdeservetobeseeing)

This was all for you Pile 2, hope it resonated ! I am sending you lots of love and see you in the next reading !

Pile 3

This is my goofball x more serious partner pile. You guys will be opposites in a lot of ways, but at the same time really complementary. You might be the more serious one, while your future lover will be an absolute jockster. I am hearing “golden retriever energy”. This could describe your future lover’s energy well. It seems like a more “cliché” kind of dynamic because I am hearing a lot of archetypes in my head like “black cat gf/bf X golden retriever gf/bf”. It is like the Yin and Yang. An immovable object meets an unstoppable force kind of dynamic. An over the top optimist, meets a jaded pessimist,.. Honestly, the list could go on and on  and on but you get the drift lol 

For some of you, this person could be younger than you or they just have a more youthful energy. Strong Jupiter and mercurial energies - Sagittarius and Gemini. They might be an air and fire dominant, while you are a water and earth dominant. Both of you balance each other out in the areas/energies where you lack. 

The Chariot, 5 of Swords, Ace of Swords

You guys’ dynamic will be fast paced, energetic and full of banter. Your future lover will LOVE to pull pranks on you and surprise you everyday with new fun tricks they’ve just learned. While, in the dynamic, you will be “the voice of reason”, the one to stop your future lover (i keep on hearing “future spouse” instead of “future lover”. this person might be the person you will be marrying in the future !) from impulsively acting. You plan everything, while they are in charge of the socializing and moodmaking part. Now, I feel the dynamic could bring a lot of tension, especially if you are a woman and the person is a man. That’s the problem with the whole ‘opposites attract” type of dynamic because it could bring a lot of imbalance. It will require for the BOTH of you to communicate clearly your boundaries and what you expect from this relationship as often as it is needed. Be careful pile 3 to not take much of the emotional and “practical” labour. I am getting that you will love this person dearly, but you could get frustrated at times since they sometimes don’t take things you perceive as important seriously. Your pile is really contradictory to be honest because how is this the person you’re going to marry, when they don’t even seem mature enough for it ?? I need additional cards for clarifications because I find the pile a bit weird in that sense. 

Before pulling the additional cards, I will say this dynamic reminds me A LOT of the one between Naveen and Tiana from The Princess and the Frog (you, most likely being Tiana and them Naveen). The genders don’t matter so you can always reverse the roles/ flip the genders to match with you. It is just the core dynamic that I am getting. 

The Sun, 6 of Wands, 8 of Cups

Okay… now, the cards are getting weirder. What I am going to say is that this relationship might not last even if there is marriage. This might be a pretty major relationship that will make you learn a major lesson regarding setting serious boundaries and affirming your ego. You will learn to stand up for yourself and walk away when something is no longer serving you. This person, on the other hand, will experience a pretty major ego death after this relationship. They will be put in front of their own egoist and self centered tendencies, and be obliged to get off their high horse.

But, this marriage could totally last for a group of you ! It will just require you to distance yourself for some time from this person. You guys will probably have a pretty major couple “break” before getting back together after a long period of individual self reflection.

I am so sorry pile 3, this might not be the energy you were expecting while coming into this reading… It is okay, these lessons are part of life, and this relationship will still bring a lot of joy into your life no matter its karmic nature. And, remember, you can always reject it when it finds you. But, I am cautioning you, doing that will probably just delay the lesson and postpone it for another time. Again, if this reading triggered you by any means, don’t hesitate to pick another pile or just decide that it did not resonate with the future you see for yourself. 

Sending you love and light ! 

[supernovatx]

important (out of order) info from the afterparty for anyone that missed it:

-they’re probably gonna rebrand dnpg to just dan and phil and move away from just doing gaming content (although they did say they’re down to keep the blue/purple colour scheme)

-they retold the story ab phil breaking his rib, apparently it’s bc the boxing was originally supposed to alternate between them winning but the dan winning ending had a move where Phil had to throw dan over his head and during practice phil accidentally threw the fight choreographer’s entire body weight into his own rib and broke it lmao

-one conspiracy they didn’t use was darry (dan x harry styles) bc they thought it was weird to talk about harry styles on stage every night and wanted to keep it to just being about them. they also apparently had a whiteboard full of conspiracies for the show

-craziest m&g experience was someone who told them they were pregnant during tatinof and then their ten year old child came around the corner “like a jumpscare” (dan’s words)

-they did really really try to tour in as many places as they could but had various legal/visa issues and said that if they do another tour they will keep fighting to perform in as many places as they can

-dan spray dyed Phil’s hair blue!! huge

-phil put the father philip coat (?) on wrong during the tit video and they didn’t realize until they were watching it on the livestream

-they said they do plan to put the tit song on Spotify also huge!!! they also tier ranked all of their show songs and dan said the introverts song wasn’t camp (disagree heavy btw) and said that they’d think about releasing it as a music video

-sister daniel was wearing nude underwear and apparently the first underwear dan bought was from a gay p0rn website and had a giant fake bulge in it and he flashed multiple people in rehearsals so they fixed it

-Phil’s silicone muscle suit was also from a p0rn website and it initially came in a size too big so it was gigantic and he had to email to ask for a size down, and when he tried to put the new one on his face got stuck in it so he asked the wardrobe people to cut the back open and make it a corset

-they praised the Australians who were watching at 6am on a Monday lol

-they also praised pj and Sophie for their incredible craftsmanship as they should!!

-they addressed “wt md if” and said they have no idea what it is and that it almost made it into phan twitter 5 but they thought it would take too much explanation

-tit song started as dan sending the melody and lyrics to ben with a voice memo recorded at 3 am

-slight tease for a phil book??? maybe??? he said he’d like to

-dan addressed dystopia daily and said she was a little too niche and he was shocked how well it did for how niche and post-ironic it is, and phil said he was scared to come on bc dan didn’t tell him anything about it beforehand

-they do plan to release the tit merch but it takes a while to get it all together! dan said a few weeks at the earliest

-other possible names for tit were “dan and phil vs the world” again and “all or nothing,” which was phil’s suggestion apparently but they decided against it bc it was too gaming-channel exclusive

-both of them said the hardest part of tit was the choreography of the song, phil especially said he had a really hard time with it

[girlgenius1111]

rather be anyone else

alexia x reader angst + fluff ahead :) r is jealous of alexia and jenni's relationship; she can't bring herself to believe alexia would want her the way she wanted jenni. alexia tries to resolve these insecurities.

------

You needed to get off tiktok. It had been harmless at first, enjoying very interesting edits of your girlfriend. Your favorite clips were the ones where she pulled her shirt up on the pitch to wipe away at her sweaty face. Quickly, though, as you sneakily saved a few of the edits, you got more football related tiktoks. More Alexia related tiktoks. And, before long, edits of Alexia and Jenni. You weren’t naive, and Alexia wasn’t shy about the fact that her and Jenni were still close. It hadn’t bothered you, not at first. Overtime, though, it became overwhelming. It wasn’t just the social media videos, comments, and posts that seemed to pop up wherever you went. It was more so the way they looked at each other. Every post from the Spanish team’s social media sent a spike of anxiety down your spine. They were practically attached at the hip during national camps, always smiling, always laughing. Always side by side. Looking at each other with huge grins stretched across their faces. 

You didn’t want to be jealous. You didn’t want to be that possessive girlfriend that made her partner feel bad for seeing her friends. You didn’t want to be controlling, and you didn’t want to tell Alexia that there was a problem. She’d never given you any reason not to trust her, and it felt wrong to bring this issue up, especially when it was entirely your issue. Your insecurity. It didn’t matter how many times you cried about it while she was away. It didn’t matter how long you spent looking in the mirror, wondering if you were lacking something that Alexia found in her ex. You wouldn’t bring this up to her, wouldn’t add it to her already long list of stressors. 

Still, it ate at you, every day she was gone. You weren’t an athlete, you were a sports photographer. You were more introverted than Jenni was. You didn’t think you were as pretty as her, or as funny. You loved football, but you didn’t play the sport your girlfriend loved. You were just… you. And Jenni was Jenni Hermoso. It seemed so obvious to you that there was no comparison, that Alexia had downgraded with you. 

-----

The way Alexia greeted you upon her return home from the airport should have quelled all your insecurities. 

“Mi niña,”  she sang, walking into the house and immediately abandoning her bag in favor of rushing through the house until she found you. When she did, opening the office door and seeing you focused on the screen in front of you, touching up a recent photograph you’d taken of her on the pitch, headphones clamped over your ears, she smiled to herself. She really was thrilled to see you. 

“Amor,” she called again, trying not to startle you as she walked closer, waiting until you noticed her out of the corner of your eye to spin your chair around. You smiled up at her, barely opening your mouth to say hello before she was smashing her lips against yours. 

She kissed you hard, hands gripping the sides of her face, and you knew, at least, that she’d missed you. 

“Hola mí campeona,” you replied, your Spanish not perfect, but bringing a smile to Alexia’s face all the same. 

“Hi,” she grinned, carelessly taking your headphones off and tossing them aside. “No more work. Come spend time with me.” She insisted. 

“Anything for you, beautiful,” you smiled. Alexia couldn’t help but notice the way the smile wasn’t quite your normal one. You seemed hesitant for her to touch you, which was not a normal occurrence. She pushed this aside, though, assuming work was stressing you out. 

Alexia didn't notice anything else out of the ordinary as you both headed to the kitchen, preparing a snack. You chatted easily about her flight, about your work week. Alexia could see you visibly relaxing the longer you were around her. That is, until she mentioned her dinner plans. 

“Jenni is here for a couple days before she goes back to Mexico. I was thinking I would grab dinner with her tonight before she goes.” Alexia didn’t have any reason to think this would upset you, as you’d never expressed discomfort surrounding her relationship with Jenni. You tensed though, a look Alexia didn’t recognize washing over your face. 

“Okay. I’ll see you later then.” You said weakly, turning away from her to head into the other room, anywhere else so Alexia wouldn’t see you cry. Not over something so stupid. Not over something that wasn’t her fault. She was allowed to be friends with whoever she wanted to. 

She caught you, though, grabbing your hand and spinning you around to face her. Her forehead was wrinkled with concern, and any other time you would have smiled at the sight, but it was too hard right now to do anything other than blink back your tears. 

“Are you upset with me?” Alexia wondered quietly, her tone steady, but her eyes flitting nervously around the room as she addressed you. 

Your head whipped up to look at her. “No, no. Of course not, why would you think that?” 

You knew why she’d thought that. Purely because of your own feelings, you’d been weirdly distant with her. You couldn’t stand to have Alexia’s arms wrapped around you, feeling like the more time she spent close to you, the quicker she’d realize you weren’t good enough. Alexia was touchy, incredibly so, and she’d noticed you dodging the contact from her that you normally leaned into. 

“You seem upset. If I did something, amor, please tell me.” 

“Ale, it’s nothing you did, please don’t worry about it.” You tried, sending her a very weak smile as tears continued to prick at your eyes. You couldn’t cry right now, it would only alarm her more. 

Alexia noticed, of course, pulling you closer with a frown on her face. 

“No, now you are crying. Please, bonita. Dime qué está pasando. I want to make it better.” She pleaded, sounding almost desperate. 

“Can I just… have a hug please?” You mumbled, cheeks burning with embarrassment. She wanted to help, and you still didn’t want to talk, so this seemed like a happy medium. 

Alexia wasn’t fazed. “Of course, mi amor. Ven aquí,” she encouraged, opening her arms for you. You fell right into them, head tucked under her chin. Alexia was a phenomenal hugger, truly. Her hugs were completely encapsulating, enveloping your entire body in her warmth. Her hugs surrounded you with her, her scent, the feeling of her body against yours, her soft lips kissing the top of your head. This hug was no different, Alexia bringing you against her easily, your smaller form fitting against hers like a puzzle piece. The blonde always intertwined her hand with the hair on the back of your head when she held you, scratching lightly at your scalp, and you let out a content hum at the sensation, already feeling your insecurities fade. 

“Mi niña perfecta,” Alexia mumbled, swaying the both of you back and forth in an oddly comforting manner. You were happy to never leave her arms ever again, but she inevitably pulled away, taking your face in her hands very delicately. She could tell that you were not about to clue her in to why you were so upset. 

“I will call Jenni and cancel, sí?” She thought you would be relieved, assuming you were upset that she was leaving so soon after getting home. 

“No, Ale. She’s your friend and she lives across the world. Please go to dinner. I’ll be fine, I’m just overwhelmed with work.” You argued, shaking your head firmly. 

“Amor,” 

“Alexia. Go to dinner.” You insisted, leaning up to press a kiss to her lips. Again, you smiled up at her, but it wasn’t your real smile, and she could still see a hint of something in your eyes. 

Hoping the space would give you some time to come to your senses and talk about whatever was bothering you, Alexia relented, pulling you into the bedroom to keep her company while she got dressed. 

-----

“Alexia, are you stupid?” Jenni asked, shaking her head at her friend. The blonde had finally explained why she kept checking her phone, and why she seemed so distracted. They were almost done with dinner, and Alexia had been acting weird the entire time. Jenni had pushed and pushed, as was her nature, until her ex had told her what had happened. What amused Jenni most was that Ale seemed to have no idea, no idea at all, what had happened to make you so upset. 

Alexia just blinked at her. “No?” 

“You are having dinner with your ex-girlfriend. Who you just spent 2 entire weeks with. Do you know how many pictures and videos Spain posted of us together?” Jenni explained slowly. 

“No, she knows there is nothing between us. We are just friends.” 

“Knowing that doesn’t mean she won’t still feel insecure about it, Ale. She probably is a bit jealous, but feels bad telling you because she knows we are just friends.” 

Alexia looked baffled, and not for the first time, Jenni wondered how someone who came from such a loving family could be so dense when it came to other people’s feelings. “Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh. Go, Ale. Go home to your girl.”

And, although Alexia looked ready to leap through the window of the restaurant if it meant she’d get home earlier, she studied Jenni closely, not wanting to hurt her friend’s feelings. “Are you sure?” 

“Sí, I have other people to see in this city besides you, Ale. Go.” Jenni insisted, flashing a familiar grin at Alexia. It didn’t hold the same power over the blonde as it used to, and she barely even noticed it before she gave Jenni a quick hug and bolted from the restaurant. 

------

Alexia drove home fast, speeding to a level you would not approve of had you been in the car. She was desperate to get home to you, especially now that she realized what the problem was. It was important to her, though, that you brought up the problem to her. Even Alexia knew that saying “my ex girlfriend says you’re jealous” would end… poorly, to say the least. She decided to say that she came home early because she missed you, and her and Jenni were both exhausted from traveling. 

Meanwhile, you were taking advantage of your time alone, allowing yourself to feel the emotions that you were avoiding in your girlfriend’s presence, the ones that couldn’t be allowed out when she returned home later. That’s how Alexia found you, actually, sitting on the couch, frantically wiping at your tears when she unexpectedly walked through the front door. 

“Ale? What are you doing home so early?” You asked, trying to sniffle nonchalantly, while also trying to pretend you’d been doing anything but crying. 

“We ate fast, and we were tired. And I missed you, I wanted to be home with you.” Alexia said. She didn’t look surprised enough at the state you were in, and you grew slightly suspicious that she was lying, but you allowed her to come sit next to you anyway. She was wearing one of your favorite sweaters, and it was instinctual when you leaned in towards the soft cashmere. 

“Hey,” she murmured, letting you rest against her. 

“Hi.” You managed. It was inevitable, now, the conversation that was coming. You had no choice. 

“Amor,” she sighed, once again tilting your face up to look at hers. “Tell me why you are so sad.” Alexia pleaded, and it was this that got to you. Alexia didn’t beg. Anyone. Ever. For anything. The very few times she whipped it out with you, you were completely powerless to resist it. 

“It’s stupid.” You said. 

Alexia frowned at you. “No. If you are crying, it is important, and I want to hear about it. Please.” 

You looked conflicted. “Why did you and Jenni break up?” You weren’t sure how to express what was going on inside your head, so you asked this question instead, hoping it would maybe clue Alexia in, without you having to explicitly say so. 

Alexia looked at you like she understood, though. “We grew apart. We did not love each other the way we were supposed to anymore. We got together when we were really young, and we just were not right for each other. We are friends now but it took a while to get there. That is it though, amor. Just friends.” 

“Just friends?” You repeated, and Alexia could hear the insecurity clear in your voice. 

“Just friends, amor. I love you, and only you. I want you, and only you.” 

You let out a breath of air in disbelief. Your insecurities had taken over your every thought in the past few days, and when you compared yourself to Jenni, you could only see your flaws and shortcomings.  “Why?” 

“Why what?” Alexia asked. 

“Why do you want me when you could have someone like her?” You asked, voice breaking slightly. 

Your girlfriend was almost… angry, she was so upset you were feeling this way. “Mi amor, how can you ask that? Why would I want anyone else?”

“I don’t look like her.” You murmured. Alexia felt her heart break. “I’m not fit like a footballer. I’m not funny like her. How can I be enough for you, when you had her before me?” You wouldn’t look at her, even when she tried to catch your eye, so she settled for gripping your hand tightly in hers.

“Oh, cariño. I love you so much. You have my heart, mi amor. No one else does, and no one else ever could. You are beautiful, so beautiful I cannot help but stare sometimes. I could stare for hours, mi amor, and never get tired of it. You make me laugh, and you make me smile, and you make me feel safe. You make me so happy, mi amor, more than anyone, more than anything. I love you. Te amo, te quiero, t'estimo.” She insisted. 

Finally, you raised your head to look at her, a cautious hope clear in your eyes. 

“You are my girl. Mine. I do not want to have anyone else, please believe me.” 

You let out a shuddering breath. “I love you,” you whispered, swiping impatiently at the tears falling freely down your face. 

“Come here,” Alexia murmured, unable to handle the distance between the two of you anymore, not when you looked so desperate to believe her, and to feel her. She wrapped you up tight against her, for the second time that day, but there was something different in this embrace. There wasn’t anything in standing between you, anymore, no unspoken feelings, no hidden insecurities. You had exposed your biggest fears to Alexia, fears of not being good enough, and she had dismissed them so easily, like she didn’t even have to think about it. 

Alexia loved you so well, so easily. While you still believed she was too good for you, you believed that she loved you, wanted you. Only you. Not Jenni, not anyone else. She spoke so definitively to you, so assured in her love for you. 

“Mí niña, mí amor, para siempre. I am sorry I did not see this sooner, amor. You have to communicate with me, please. When you are upset, when you do not feel good enough. You have to tell me, because you are perfect, my perfect girl, and you deserve to know that. You deserve to feel it, sí? Feel how much I love you.” 

You nodded minutely, content to bury your face in her neck, and let the feeling of being with the woman you loved wash over you, and push away everything else. She smelled like her perfume, like Alexia, and it was a smell that put you at ease instantly, in a way that was purely physiological. 

“Ale, I love you.” You mumbled again. She nodded against you, running her hand through your hair. 

“I know, mí amor, I know. You always show me how well you love me, you make me believe it every day. You love me so well, bebé, you are so perfect. Tan perfecta para mí.” 

The words were murmured into your hair, and there was an unspoken promise held within them; that she would make you feel the same way. Make you feel just as loved. No matter what it took, Alexia would make it happen. The strength with which she held you, the way she rubbed your back softly and pressed kisses into your head; she was already doing it. Already making you feel her love. 

------

sorry this took so long :,) i hope it isn't terrible because i lowkey feel like it is

i love you all very much <3