#A curious curse indeed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kalims · 1 year ago

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⭒ㅤwith a disney princess

premise. surely there's been a mistake, cause there's no way someone out of place like you ended up at nrc, right? (spoiler alert: months later and they will fight whoever might drag you to rsa)

featuring. dorm leaders (from diasomnia to heartslabyul)

content. at best this might imply a female reader, given they're based of a 'princess' but I tried to take the gender vague and focused mainly on the qualities of them! mc has hair in the rapunzel part lol

note. no beta we die lol. I worked on this by group so i honestly don't remember if I accidentally gendered mc. I absolutely love idias part lmaoooo

malleus (aurora)

ooh intimidating x soft couple.

you look way out of place in somewhere like nrc of all places, given your mother is the infamous sleeping beauty (infamous, in the college’s standards that is.) your kindness is easily taken advantage of, even if you do realize it there is always forgiveness spared for the undeserving.

said kindness was extended to the quiet malleus.

surprise no surprise. he’s impeccably drawn to the sparkling aura you seem to exclude. malleus feels as though there are traces of familiar magic always hovering around you, like its embowed into your very being. a blessing would be a better word for it.

well, he’s just curious but if he were to ever ask he’d be met with the confirmation that you were, indeed blessed by the same three fairies your mother was blessed by (minus the curse… ironically he’s quite similar to the same lady that your mother loved and looked up to.)

he’s just fascinated. something as glittery as you, shiny like gold would’ve been whisked away to his nice tower, homey. he’d tell you. almost as if making its image seem heavenly. (lowkey highkey getting your consent for kidnapping)

animals always seem to flock around you everywhere you go, they sneak around to reach you. in your dorm, during lunch, even in class. there’s either a bird on your shoulder or a squirrel making itself comfortable atop your head. its a curious sight, critters don’t really like him much.

in short they run away, humans or animals alike are both afraid of his presence it seems.

so he’s incredibly still when you nudge an adorably round bird in his palm, peering at it with cautious eyes. tense as a statue lest it flies away.

cue staring contest.

he felt incredibly accomplished that day, and immersed him in the role of making this creature like him. leaving seeds, offering it the most sought off food from the valley, literally conjuring a small home for it. everything.

HE’S SO HAPPY.

malleus often asks of you to sing, perhaps its the blessing talking but its the most unique form of sound he’d ever heard in his life, the more he sings the more he wants to imbue his very being with the loveliness of your song.

always following you around like a lost puppy (lizard?) any evil that actually wants to take advantage of your unfortunate naive desire for peace and kindness is scared away. although malleus would never want your interactions to be reduced entirely because of him, he only starts looking like a demon one he figures out their motive is less than fitting for you.

“yeah, the ingredients were to complicated for me to remember—”

“oh! perhaps i can help you?”

spots the demon behind you (just your lovely giant staring them to their grave.)

“you know what i actually got it— sorry for wasting your time.” you watch them, confused as they dip.

you look to him, as though to ask what just happened but he merely casts you an oblivious glance and shrugs.

favorite past time → coddling you in his dragon form.

he was doubtful whether he should pull through in actually showing it to you, since you were already such an angel towards him. would it be a stretch if he let a selfish desire get in the way? perhaps you’d get scared if you see how large he is there—or if he’s—

idia (rapunzel)

okay that amazed smile on you was totally worth it.

wow your hair is fire.

he should have never made a comment about it in the first place because now you’re completely confused about his reference, were you living in like… in isolation? a cave? you’re a little less worse than the scarabia’s dorm leader when it comes to being oblivious.

just two idiots miscommunicating, he atleast is trying to make an effort to explain that he doesn’t mean it literally but his wording is so bad that you get absolutely nothing from what he is trying to infer.

okay your hair though.

“why is that person stuck in that square!?”

good thing ortho was near cause you almost charged towards a television and judging by the, pan!? in your grip you definitely would have smashed the screen trying to be righteous and rescue the character.

okay then. 1. don’t let you near electronics, specifically when its playing something.

you are a literal danger to his society. shivers

you’re always asking something like “what are those glowing balls on the ceiling?” those are lights… “why is that thing speaking?!” that’s a speaker… “why is it on fire?” oh that’s his hair, he doesn’t really know either it was just like that.

it does feel a little nice to get asked like that and he’d know the answer (its literally the most common knowledge ever but whtv)

EPIC! idia is now trying to figure out how resistant your hair is. its literally like, the most OP shield there is!

at first he had some reservations. like, used a knife once and was flabbergasted when it came back in half. your hair didn’t even move an inch. then he got motivated and tried a sharper sword, longer, and larger of course. he let ortho handle it cause he probably would have stabbed himself.

“wtf.”

flinches cause the half of the sharp end came completely off and stabbed right beside his head onto the wall.

what are the limits of it?! had some doubts before using one of the tech he came up with, it could literally cut through a diamond and he isn’t sure if its entirely safe but you’re all for it cause you were always curious whether your hair could even get cut in the first place.

anyway you’re way too happy to be near a lazer that could obliterate you and its kinda infecting him. yikes.

less than happy cause the lazer literally got reflected by your hair and hit itself so it’s just gone.

on the bright side he can use you as a scapegoat (in a good way)

alright. 2. don’t enrage you unless he wants to experience getting hit by a pan really hard.

wow. he felt that for days.

maybe its the hit or he’s just feeling a little woozy whenever you’re around.

definitely the pan.

vil (mulan)

bold x shy couple

pretty x pretty defender

he’s used to people heeding his suggestions but damn, are you a stubborn one.

not only have you not listened to his propositions for becoming a more refined person (cause the way you held yourself was too.. much for him to ignore, and it bothered him for a long time until he decided to help you.) but he can respect you, he supposes. not a lot of people can stay true to themselves.

it seems like epel, the boy himself has taking a liking to you. no wonder he’s been becoming more rebellious lately.

vil would never stoop so low to purposely direct someone advice that would change their entire self, decimate their unique traits. but all he told you was out of the goodness of his heart, if you’d be less clumsy of your ways your reputation would be better for the long run.

not being respected amongst nrc is never a good thing.

still, you’re still headstrong. never too overconfident, nor cocky. just a humble soul, that’s rare so he tends to stick by you if he ever wanted an honest opinion cause people just tell him what he wants to nowadays. vil never enjoyed the biased remarks.

more often than not he enjoys making your already pretty face, prettier than it is.

finds out you’re no bark and all bite, he never even knew you could take down someone who has an advantage over you in physical terms. come on, its savanaclaw. apparently the guy had spared him an unsavory comment and (apparently, in your defense. only told him a few words, got attacked so it was self defense.)

it came a surprise to him. seeing as you’re generally relaxed in nature, your military prowess a mystery to most since you seemed content with resorting matters with peace. though you seem to lack more restraint when it comes to your close relationships.

vil scolding you in the infirmary (you don’t have a scratch, and the guy whose pride you handed back to is in some corner lamenting cause he can hear you guys.) and you just taking it.

contrary to how you first treated to each other. you seem to be more prone to his opinions, or suggestions the more you progress with each other. he admits maybe he was too outright in his manner of speaking the first time, but it only highlights the change you’d gone through with each other.

you’re the perfect doll, in a way. not in a demeaning way or anything but its so satisfying to him to use products on your face just for the sole reason that you sit so still. his absolute favorite past time is skin care together even if you mostly just follow his lead.

you and epel must be kindred spirits, once he was on his way to retire to the indoors of pomefiore. seeing as it started raining, heavy so it meant it would stay for a while. and then paused when he spotted you both sharing words.

and planting apple seeds in the rain? both of you are stained with the rain, some dirt and mud alike. and vil had never looked so mortified. so just cause you don’t protest when he cares for you doesn’t mean you’re bothered by getting dirty he guesses.

“you both… clean yourselves up, i’ll brew medicine lest you fall under the weather.” ← disappointed sigh.

kalim (jasmine)

ended up waiting for you both to finish under the covers and ushered you both to baths.

you have a tiger!

just living char x their absolute biggest stan

wow you have a tiger.

did he mention you have a tiger?

majority of nrc knows not to mess with you haha, if it’s not obvious already with the seemingly lax tiger that behaves like some sort of overgrown cat following you around and growls at someone when you aren’t looking.

then you always raise a brow at the people who tell you otherwise. “bab doesn’t bite.”

kalim is lowkey highkey their biggest fan, i mean. jamil is having the worst year of his life dragging kalim away wherever you seem to be because the first apparent instinct of the boy is to try to pet the tiger cause it’s ‘cute’.

at some point jamil had to investigate your routine throughout the day, what you do, where you go at specific times like after classes conclude to make sure kalim doesn’t cross path with you.

well, not necessarily you but rather your… tiger. which is hard, honestly. you seem to visit scarabia a lot for a reason unknown. jamil would be suspicious you’d be planning something but all you really do is stay out on the balcony with your companion.

but alas, fate would have it otherwise.

“hi,” kalim blurts before he could remember his friend’s warning. you turn, along with your… also friend who watches him closely. you blurt out a greeting back, seeing as it’s courtesy, you seem to be amused at his fascinated eyes staring at your tiger.

“want a pet?” you offer, bab making sounds of protest.

jamil almost had a heart attack seeing the two of you attached by the hip, only calming down a few weeks later. seeing as your companion wouldn’t pose as much danger as he assumed, seeing as the tiger’s protectiveness started extending to the ray of sunshine.

rich couple ig. everyone overhears your conversations and doubles over. “i had a small statue of gold made for bab, for you.” and then a; “oh, thanks. but we already have a lot at home. hmm…”

actually it’s not really the manner of being attached, more like two following you. kalim, and then your cutie pie tiger.

your reserved nature in particular greatly contrasts kalim, yapper x listener i guess. although the object of his interest was initially because of bab, he might as well be another overgrown cat of yours cause he seems to love touch.

its concerning cause bab themselves felt challenged for your affection and when they spotted kalim’s head nestled on your lap they ‘accidentally’ kick him off.

in a way you seemed untouchable, pet included. you don’t seem to mind kalim much, people might even go as far as to say you enjoy his company. occasionally the vice of his dorm as well, the three of you have this sort of aura that screams ‘don’t approach’

said aura is in the form of a very big cat.

azul (ariel)

one time you admitted to having not much friends and three heads turned towards you. face twisted incredulously.

he doesn’t know why but you looked like you went through ten stages of grief (3 more cause the 7 definitely wasn’t enough.) when you took a glance at him, during the time you were looking around, you almost went past him, actually. but then doubled back immediately.

that’s concerning.

morally suspicious (devil in disguise) x angel

azul often asks your opinions out of habit, he himself isn’t even sure when it started but he considers you a factor in decisions. though he does prefer to keep you out certain… endeavors of his away entirely, no need to concern your innocence in his doings.

as such he often uses the twins to steer you away from trouble cause you seem to have no sense for it whatsoever, whenever there’s a fight brewing instead of walking off you stride closer. curious to whatever was happening.

and, you believe too easily apparently.

jade had held you by your shoulders and directed you away from the fight before the dispute reached you and inevitably dragged you in. “why are they fighting?”

he replied. “ah, well. they inhaled an unpleasant shroom and got affected.” your mortified face spoke you believed him. human culture! you thought.

your brain should be inspected honestly. floyd told him all about the pile of stuff you had “found” in your dorm, ranging from innocent collectibles to items that brought the question of whether or not they were really yours but you didn’t really claim otherwise, just that you found em’ so no more questioning.

azul doesn’t even wanna know why you started staring at mushrooms like they were a mortal enemy of all living forms. speaking of, the three of them didn’t even consider that you could be from the sea as well. seeing as, well. you have two feet, even if they have the same.

besides the fact you’re too clumsy for your own good you sure had no fear when you leapt overboard during a field trip cause a trinket that caught your eye fell and gave the entirety of the attendants a heart attack. floyd had patted him on the back and wishes him condolences.

also the shock of the century when you emerged, pretty tail and all. holding it the trinket up like you just found it the most fascinating thing on the globe.

since then underwater dates were a thing. which took a lot of prompting honestly, you didn’t know he was a merman either, curiously asking him what kind he was. in nature, you were persistent. like a need to sate your questions so he eventually relented.

even then, it took a while before he let you see the form. ← to his fluster you seemed engrossed in this form of his. swimming around him and asking questions.

now azul also have a small pile of items hidden in a box beneath his bed, all from you. which, upon being opened would be mistaken for unused items since its literally random stuff, and a concerning favor towards forks.

oh yeah. sometimes the tweels crash your date.

you could be in his office, going about your business. chilling on his couch and playing with one of your treasures and be completely unaware of the ominous discussion ongoing within the three about anemones? contracts?

“what are you guys talking about?”

“hairstyles for azul.”

“what—”

“ooh. i can brush his hair so you can style it!” pulls out a fork.

leona (belle)

“oh my sevens, WAIT—”

i was having a crisis trying to think of a dynamic so why not just, beauty x beast.

leona is less than pleased to admit he doesn’t like you much. or atleast, he used to. it was clear his feelings of you was reciprocated, based on the uninterested side glances you cast him. your type, well liked, pristine, proper, and informed reminds him all to well of what mold he was forced into. though it never really fit.

you on the other hand, just dislike him in general. more pointedly as to how he acted, too self righteous in your opinion. he sure spends a lot of time moping about how he could have been king when he’s acting like he’d be a terrible one. you’d say it to his face but even you aren’t too crude.

if you’re both looking at the bright side though, you’d probably prefer each other’s company above others. you’re quiet, perfect for napping around. he’s surprisingly true to himself, his morals aren’t too bad either.

as such, to your disdain he now naps in the library. which you had titled your own space, but he didn’t really just care.

relatively you’re a lot more cool headed than he is, you told him concerns about his laziness which he weaved through. after opening up with each other… well you know how it goes.

okay, fine. you no longer berate leona for napping at the public space, quickly shut up when he threatened you. “i’m gonna tell you the real reason ‘m here nowadays if you don’t calm down. and it ain’t the peace i’m here for.” he eyes you, and you shut up after that.

leona doesn’t know if he should be amused or annoyed at the fact that you stand up to whatever he says. ‘that’s rude,’ this. ‘are you out of your mind?’ that. at some point where he doesn’t wanna admit, leona had disliked seeing you upset (particularly towards him) that he started listening.

at others is a different story though. he will gladly watch you shut down someone else.

sometimes he makes weird remarks, like. “throw an egg at them, who knows might hatch into a chick and give them the company they’ve been lacking.” ← just bullies random people while you defend them. “what? don’t be stupid, eggs that are sold don’t hatch into chicks.”

you often lament in his arms, regretting ever coming near his sleeping frame cause next thing you know you’re subjected to prison, and you had accidentally dropped the book you were reading so even if you try to reach for it he’s pulling you back.

will reach for it if you ask tho lol.

just one look from you has him suddenly behaved tbh.

bothers your productive time by crashing it with his opposite word of productive idk im to lazy to check. more often than not tramples over your things, but always looks dead to life when you end up scolding him heavily.

also kicks out the animals that gravitate towards you for some reason, got jealous of a bird nestled in your hair once cause apparently you paid too much attention to it.

apparently told ruggie to fetch books for you when you’re running out, at that point you might actually milk the nrc library with how fast you burn through them.

“you’re not even from here, what do—”

“actually. originally from times before, they—”

riddle (cinderella)

got lectured about history, eugh.

easy to fluster x enthusiastic and sweet

how are you so nice.

you’ve got most of the population of nrc enamored with your natural charm alone, though some do tend to mock you. unfortunately they aren’t wrong, you really do fit in more at a different school like rsa with your personality.

i mean you fit the bill, kind, pretty, talks to animals.

good for you though. cause riddle would prefer a behaved student than a troublesome one anyway so he would definitely dig you lmao.

speaking of. he definitely goes to you whenever the hedgehogs are lost in the maze, or the flamingos just don't wanna step out the farther spot from the pond, somehow they love you in whatever you do.

as in, you spoke to the hedgehogs with a lower tone. almost like a coo, and he almost tells you to stop because that's the universal worse tone to talk to hedgehogs until... it nuzzles into you?!

flabbergasted, he can only watch.

sevens... you're just so pleasant to be around he could die.

at some point it felt like you were the epitome of being kind. riddle understand that the virtue was just embedded into you, letting others berate you for whatever... he even thought you were too kind for a place like nrc where the complete opposite traits are admired.

you are, but only to those who deserve it. riddle had the pleasure to spot you nitpicking a crude student and they looked like they were gonna burst into tears.

so... you knew what to say almost always. when troubled, he'd learn that it's best to talk to you cause you'd know what to say to ease his worries, when you're treated wrongly? sevens.. you also know what to say.

but, in a putting whoever in their place way?

(idk man I'm just rambling at this point lmao idk how to write a cinderella reader.)

riddle has grown accustomed to random critters breaking in the door. well, he was used to animals in the first place. or atleast thought he was when he opened a door in the dorm and almost yelled at the sight of a group of mice looking like they were having conspiracies.

a few weeks after that he knocked on doors before opening them.

was also very disturbed when you announced they were your friends.

I don't know. I feel like he'd lowkey be the type to write your name in a heart on the back of his notebook and straighten his face like: 'what in the world am I doing' but not erasing it anyways.

over time, your little 'friends' got used to him, and vice versa. at the very least he isn't screaming at their sudden visits, be it flying through the window or just popping out of something they climbed on.

who's screaming though are his dorm members, and he's found humors in the encounters.

"ah, thank you, myrcella." he nods gingerly, toward the very tiny white mice who seems to twirl around, touched by the thanks. the little thing was nice enough to carry the pen he'd been using to scribble down the main definitions he'd been copying from the textbook.

in the middle of reaching for a glass of water the door opens, riddle watches one of his residents striding in rambling. probably about to be exposed to the sight of a group of mice sleeping on top of each other atop a cushion he'd personally placed for them.

and maybe the birds. whom seemed comfortable by his small collection of plants.

"dorm leader, octavinelle stude—GAHHHH—"

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queers-gambit · 2 years ago

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Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel au #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x you #mafia au #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes hurt/comfort

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ozzgin · 4 days ago

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Algae Monster x Reader content: gender neutral reader, ft. the monster adopt I got from natansiik!

Cottage life was supposed to be idyllic: curious critters, the chirping of birds, the shuffle of vegetation after a soft breeze passes by. What you’d gotten instead was utter silence and emptiness.

This was ridiculous. You stared incredulously at the bird feeder you’d eagerly installed outside, untouched and filled to the brim still. Where was everything? The place should’ve been pulsing with life. Even the flowers you so carefully planted along the little cobblestone path had been afraid to come out of the barren soil.

Frustrated and confused, you reached for your bag and scurried ahead, in no particular direction, hoping to find some answers or at least clear your mind of that suffocating feeling of dread.

Something was deeply wrong with the forest.

As you made your way around the overgrown roots, you began to notice thick clumps of cattails – the only real greenery around there – contouring something beyond your sight. You hadn’t been told of any lake or pond when you moved in, so what were they doing here? Your step became heavier, sinking into muddy ground the closer you got to the wetland.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” you mumbled to yourself, kneeling before the murky water.

You waited a moment, expectantly, yet nothing happened. The damned puddle was just as dead as the rest of the area, devoid of any animals. Right as you were about to turn around, your reflection jolted in waves across the surface, skewing and trembling under the pull of a foreign movement coming from the depths. A fish?

The creature coming out of the pond caused you to fall on your back in terror. It almost resembled a human, tall and slender, with glowing eyes and long claws, its body tangled in a web of seaweed.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see movement around here,” it mused, visibly surprised by your presence. “What are you doing in this graveyard?”

Still taken aback by the monstrosity that had just crawled its way to you, you could only nod and point towards your home. Your voice seemed to be stuck somewhere within your throat.

The idea that you’d been living there seemed to be an even greater shock to the beast. It marveled at you, hesitantly extending a finger and dragging it across your face. Unbelievable. Unconceivable.

You later learned that your unexpected encounter was the main and only inhabitant of the forest, for the very simple reason that everything else wilted in his presence. A spirit of death, meant to lead a solitary existence until time itself came to a halt. Or, as he now discovered, until you’d show up.

By the time you arrive at the pond, he’s already waiting for you. His hollow orbs are narrowed in a smile, flaunting a wide slit across his face. Your eyes involuntarily rest on the sharp rows of teeth protruding from the opening.

“You’re in a good mood today,” you comment as you throw a blanket over the grass.

“Why, of course I am. You’re here.”

He swiftly snatches your wrist and pulls you in a greedy embrace, inhaling your scent. You are indeed here, and you’d better stay here. He’s never known such bliss before. To think someone out there could withstand his ghastly, deadly essence, what a bold dream! Yet here you are, thriving under his touch. For once, his cursed hands bring more than demise.

You’re his precious gift, his most prized treasure. Oh, he’s never letting you go.

#algae monster #mermay #doodle #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #terato

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vamptizm · 28 days ago

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SNOOZE — p. bueckers iv.

pairing: paige bueckers x soraya mensima (oc)

synopsis: rookie paige bueckers enters the league with confidence, charm, and a bad habit of gravitating toward things she shouldn’t want— like soraya mensima, the wings’ respected star and reluctant heartbreaker. soraya’s been here longer, knows better, and refuses to let lines blur... even as paige keeps rewriting them with every smile.

warnings: fluff. slight angst. mentions of weed. sexual content. high sex. oral (s!receiving) pussy drunk paige.

word count: 12.8k

masterlist

♯┆taglist (open) .ᐟ ★ @brenwritesss @bueckersbitch @ekisokay @paige05bby @sierrale8ne @ohmybueckers @pboogerswbb @yailtsv @lilpaigeyherbo @prettygirl-gabi @mariahthealchemist @avvwritesstufff @vintagebueckers @naeswrrldd @thaatdigitaldiary

Soraya's phone buzzed with a short vibration on the nightstand, lighting up the screen with a message from Paige:

BDB Paige💜: downstairs. take your time, passenger princess.

She blinked at it for a second, then sighed softly. She already felt bad enough letting a rookie chauffeur her around all week—not that Paige had given her a choice in the matter. But to make her wait on top of that? No. Even if Paige didn't seem to mind in the slightest, Soraya wasn't about to add ‘ungrateful’ to the list of things she didn't like being called.

Grabbing her gym bag and keys, she gave a quick glance back toward the living room where her cat was curled up on the couch. She padded over and leaned down to press a kiss to Jiggy's furry forehead.

"Be good," she murmured.

Jiggy didn't even twitch. Not a flick of the ear. Ungrateful, indeed.

Soraya rolled her eyes, heading for the door. She moved too fast down the stairs, nearly missing a step and stumbling before gripping the railing with a muttered curse. Deep breaths. Chill. She wasn't about to break her ankle before practice even started.

When she opened the back door of Paige's car, she tossed her bag in the backseat before sliding into the passenger side. Her gaze instantly landed on Paige—her hair pulled into a low, messy bun, face completely bare of makeup, purple glasses perched slightly crooked on the bridge of her nose.

God. She looked beautiful in that effortless, stripped back way. The kind of beautiful that wasn't trying to be anything at all.

It wasn't until Paige turned to her with a lopsided smile and held something out that Soraya noticed the iced matcha in her hand.

"Good morning to you too, passenger princess," Paige greeted, her voice a little tired but bright in the way early mornings sometimes made people seem more sincere.

Soraya blinked down at the green drink, then back up at her. "What's that?"

"Matcha? That's what you like, right?" Paige asked, brows pinching together slightly like she wasn't totally sure she hadn't just imagined it.

Soraya tilted her body slightly toward her, looking between the cup and Paige's face in silence. The quiet stretched just long enough for Paige to feel it press into her chest.

"Who told you that?" Soraya finally asked, her voice quieter, more curious than suspicious.

"No one," Paige shrugged. "I just heard you mention it to Nai the other day. Figured you'd appreciate one this morning."

The words came out with practiced ease, but the thud in her chest betrayed her cool front. Why was she nervous? It was just a drink. A gesture. Nothing weird about that.

Right?

Another beat of silence passed before Soraya reached out. Her fingers brushed against Paige's as she took the cup gently, and for a brief second, the contact felt louder than either of them expected.

"I do. Thank you," Soraya said, her tone softer than before. She didn't acknowledge the tingle that climbed up her wrist from the contact, and neither did Paige.

Paige watched her for a second longer, studying the way the rim of the cup pressed against her lips, how she seemed slightly more present after the first sip.

She glanced at Soraya's reflection in the passenger window—loose ponytail, skin bare but glowing, two tiny pimple patches on her cheek, and black glasses that made her look softer, somehow. Paige caught their mirrored images: matching glasses, morning wrinkled clothes, and sleepy expressions. They looked almost domestic. Cozy. Like something warm and familiar.

The thought snuck up on her, unexpected and uninvited, and nestled somewhere in her chest.

"No problem," she replied.

They didn't speak for a while after that, letting the silence bloom between them as Paige pulled away from the curb.

Not awkward—just still. The kind of silence that didn't ask to be filled. Outside, the morning light bled through the trees, casting long, shifting shadows across the dashboard as Paige drove with a steady hand. Inside the car, the soft hum of music floated through the speakers, cushioning the quiet.

Then the opening notes of Another Life by SZA came on.

Soraya's posture shifted instantly. Her shoulders, once slightly hunched from the early morning chill, relaxed. A faint brightness sparked in her expression, barely noticeable unless you were looking closely—and Paige was.

"Turn this shit up," Soraya said, leaning forward without waiting for a response. Her fingers adjusted the volume with a practiced ease before she sank back into the seat, a satisfied little grin pulling at her lips as the beat deepened.

Paige flicked her gaze toward her, just for a second, before returning her focus to the road—the kind of driver who never let her attention drift for long. Still, the curve of her mouth betrayed the question forming on her tongue.

"You like SZA?"

Soraya turned to her with an expression that landed somewhere between disbelief and amusement. Her brows pinched together slightly as if Paige had just asked whether she liked air or water.

"Like?" she repeated, drawing out the word. "I fucking love that bitch. Especially this song. It's been on repeat for weeks."

Her voice was alive in a way Paige hadn't heard yet—animated, unfiltered. There was something playful tucked into the edges of it, something that made Paige's chest stir a little.

She smiled, unable to help it. "Same," she said simply, voice quiet but full of something real.

She didn't offer more. Not yet. Not because she didn't have more to say, but because Soraya was still a closed book, just beginning to crack open. And Paige had learned that pushing too hard made people snap shut. So she stayed where she was—present, open, patient.

Soraya glanced at her sideways. Something in her chest warmed at Paige's answer. Sure, liking SZA wasn't exactly rare, but this specific song? There was a quiet intimacy in that. Knowing that Paige, someone who always seemed composed, cool, and sharp around the edges, played this song on repeat too—it did something to her.

She didn't say anything else. Just gave a soft, almost imperceptible nod, then brought the matcha back to her lips.

She wanted to speak. She really did. But the words stuck to the roof of her mouth. Not because she didn't have them, but because sharing them still felt unfamiliar. They weren't close enough for comfort yet, not quite. And Soraya wasn't the kind of girl who spoke just to fill the air.

So they drove on, not speaking. Letting the music talk for them.

The breeze came in through the window, light and cool against her skin as SZA sang over layered instrumentals. Soraya closed her eyes for half a second, just breathing it in—the sound, the calm, the sense of someone beside her who didn't make silence feel suffocating.

It was rare. And she wasn't ready to name it, but she liked it.

And Paige? She kept her eyes on the road, but she noticed. Every little thing.

For once, Soraya didn't detour to the vending machine. No organic fizzy peach red bull, no chocolate bar, no three minute stall in the hallway just to avoid walking in with someone else.

This morning, she walked straight in.

Which meant she and Paige entered the locker room together, shoulder to shoulder, no space to pretend otherwise.

The second they crossed the threshold, the atmosphere shifted.

It wasn't dramatic. No gasps, no silence. Just a few too casual glances from the girls already inside. Some looked up, gave absent nods, and kept it moving. But others—Arike, Dijonai, and Nalyssa, seated in a trio near the back—exchanged knowing looks like they'd been waiting for this moment all week. Grins stretched across their faces before the teasing even began. Eyebrows wagged. Shoulders bumped. Silent laughter buzzed between them like an inside joke without a punchline.

Soraya rolled her eyes immediately, already regretting everything. She let out a quiet exhale through her nose and rolled her eyes, pointedly ignoring them.

Beside her, Paige caught the theatrics out of the corner of her eye. A faint smirk tugged at her lips, but she swallowed it down. She didn't mind the attention. Not when Soraya was walking beside her, shoulders relaxed in that effortlessly cool way of hers.

They moved to their lockers, which happened to be right beside each other. Had been since before the first day of the rookie's arrival, although Soraya still hadn't decided if that was good or bad luck.

Soraya sat first, dropping her bag by her feet and unzipping it with one hand while tugging off her zip up sweater with the other. Paige followed a second later, stretching her long legs out in front of her and began to carefully put her eye contacts in.

They changed in silence, the usual locker room hum around them. The shuffle of sneakers, clinking of water bottles, the occasional burst of laughter. Nothing felt particularly different, and yet...

After a few minutes, Dijonai's voice rang out over the noise.

"Alright y'all, listen up!" she called out, already grinning. "Me and Lyss are throwing a little welcome get-together tomorrow night. Just something chill. Drinks, snacks, music, vibes. First preseason game’s almost here and we got hella new faces, so it's only right."

A wave of agreement rippled through the room. A chorus of "bet," "say less," and "I'm down" followed, everyone nodding or tossing their hands up in agreement. It was a day off, after all, and the idea of unwinding before the storm of the game began was too tempting to resist.

Everyone seemed excited except Soraya, who remained quiet where she sat in front of her locker, lacing up her sneakers like she hadn't heard a thing.

Dijonai noticed immediately.

She didn't bother saying anything aloud. Just gave Soraya the look—one they'd perfected after years of friendship. Her expression didn't say ‘are you coming?’ It said ‘you're coming, and you know it.’

Soraya didn't argue. She didn't have to. She just rolled her eyes lightly in response, the universal sign for ‘fine, whatever.’

But then, as she finished tying her last shoe and leaned back slightly, she glanced to her left to Paige, who sat almost close enough for their shoulders to brush if either of them shifted their chairs closer just a little.

"Y’going?" she asked, casually. The question was simple. Almost too simple. But it landed with more weight than it should have, a quiet ripple in the space between them.

Paige was caught slightly off guard by the question. She blinked once, then looked over at Soraya beside her, their bodies aligned, their legs almost touching.

It was such a small question. Barely a sentence. But something about the way Soraya asked it—the softness behind the words, the faint tilt of her head, the way her dark eyes flicked up with something unsure—made Paige feel like the answer mattered more than it should. God, how could someone have such hypnotic eyes?

"Yeah, I'll be there." Paige said quietly. She nodded once to seal it, like it was obvious. Like there was no other choice.

'If you want me there,' she added in her head, the words lingering like a secret between her ribs.

Soraya held her gaze for a second longer than necessary. Then nodded, just as quietly. "Okay." Her voice was lighter now, lower, like she didn't want anyone else to hear.

The older turned back to her locker. She didn't smile—not visibly. But there was a flicker in her eyes, a quiet glint of satisfaction. Like she got the answer she wanted, even if she'd never admit she wanted it. But Paige noticed. And something in her chest warmed at the sight.

Eventually, everyone began filing out of the locker room, ready to start another day of training. But Soraya and Dijonai lagged behind, as usual.

Dijonai—slow on purpose—rifled through her duffle bag like she had all the time in the world. Soraya, now fully dressed and ready, leaned against the lockers and waited, arms folded, gaze aimlessly drifting until her best friend finally stood and motioned toward the gym doors.

As they walked side by side down the corridor, Dijonai bumped her hip playfully against Soraya's. Her grin was smug, like she'd been waiting to get her words in.

"'Y’going?' " she echoed in a poor imitation of Soraya's tone—soft, almost sweet, way too obvious to be brushed off. "Since when do you care about any of the rookies?"

Soraya groaned, head tipping back in dramatic irritation. "I asked because she's the one that would have to drive me, dumbass," she said flatly. "I don't care what she does."

"Mhm," Dijonai replied, with the exact amount of disbelief that made Soraya want to punch her in the arm. "Sure. Keep tellin' yourself that, Sora."

Soraya didn't answer. She just shook her head and kept walking, but her silence said more than words could. And Dijonai, who'd known her since college, saw right through it.

Practice had gone well.

Another long day of training camp, the kind that left legs sore and minds buzzing, but with the kind of exhaustion that felt earned. The coaches were ramping up the intensity— two days until the first preseason game and a little over two weeks until the season opener, and it showed. The drills were sharper, the scrimmages more heated, especially for the rookies, who had to fight for every inch of space and respect.

Soraya though, wasn't worried about herself. She'd earned her spot long ago—two years in the league, one of the most versatile hybrids on the team. She knew the playbook, the pace, the pressure. This wasn't new to her.

And if there was one other person Soraya definitely wasn't worried about, it was Paige Bueckers.

UConn's golden girl. A four year starter who'd practically built a legacy brick by brick under Geno. The league had been buzzing about her debut long before she even declared. Watching her in camp, the way she moved— deliberate, unbothered, efficient—only confirmed what Soraya already knew. Paige wasn't just making the roster. She was about to be the face of it.

That night, after a quiet car ride and a murmured "thanks" before slipping out of Paige's passenger seat, Soraya had gone straight to bed. Not from exhaustion, necessarily, but from that bone deep kind of tired that came from silence. She hadn't said much during the drive, hadn't offered conversation, directions, nothing.

It lingered with her the next morning.

Soraya wasn't the type to feel guilt easily. But something about Paige carting her around without even a flicker of annoyance—not once asking for gas money or thanks or a single word in return—sat in her chest like a quiet weight. She needed to sort out her car situation, and fast. It'd been almost a week now, and the mechanic hadn't offered much hope unless she was willing to fork over the price of a used Honda just to revive her 4 year old Kia.

Maybe it was time to let it go. Time to invest in something new. Something reliable. Grown up.

Still, for today at least, she could ignore that. The rare bliss of a day off meant no early alarms, no sprints, no whistles. Just rest.

She slept in—or at least, what counted as sleeping in for her. It was 8:47 a.m. when Jiggy padded her way across her back, each paw landing with perfect, tiny disrespect. Her breath, which smelled somewhere between old cheese and expired curiosity, hit her square in the face as she sniffed around with impunity. It was that, and not the sun that truly woke her up.

"Ugh," Soraya groaned, face buried in her pillow. "Your breath smells like death."

Jiggy, unbothered as always, sat on her hip like she owned the lease.

Despite the rude awakening, Soraya found herself smiling, brushing a hand over her fur as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. Waking up to her squishy little face was still her favorite part of the day.

She spent the rest of the morning moving slowly—eating fruit out of the fridge, catching up on half a show she barely remembered starting, scrolling aimlessly. Her phone buzzed with messages from teammates in their group chat, confirming times and rides for the get together later that evening, but she didn't respond just yet.

The day was hers. Quiet and slow. Untouched by anyone else's energy.

But by late afternoon, around 4:30, Soraya was up again, tying her hair into a loose bun and slipping into her kitchen. She'd never been the type to show up empty handed. Not now, not ever.

It was just how she was raised.

In both Ghanian and Algerian culture, hospitality wasn't optional—it was sacred. A value woven deep into everyday life. Whether you were invited to someone's home or just dropping by, you brought something. Food, flowers, a bottle of juice. It didn't matter what it was, only that you came with your hands full and your heart open.

To show up empty was to show up without respect. And respect, especially the quiet kind, mattered to Soraya, contrary to popular belief.

So she started to bake.

Her kitchen smelled like chocolate and browned butter within minutes. The warm, familiar notes that reminded her of childhood, of her grandmother's kitchen, of small apartment ovens filled with the scent of long lost care and love.

As the brownies baked, she glanced at her phone again.

It was going to be a long night of pretending to be social. She needed the calm now, while it lasted. And maybe—just maybe—she didn't mind the idea of Paige being there.

While the brownies baked in the oven, the real battle was happening in Soraya's bedroom.

She stood half dressed in her closet, hands on her hips, surrounded by rejected options draped over her bed and chair. Most things she owned were either loud, bold, or unapologetically her. Statement pieces, sculpted silhouettes, textures that caught the light. ‘Doing too much’ was kind of her thing. That was the point. She never underdressed, unless it was for practice, and even then, it was a stretch.

But tonight, she wasn't sure. She didn't want to look like she was trying too hard, especially not in front of teammates she was still getting used to. And especially not in front of her.

Eventually, she settled on something that felt like a compromise. An short, ashy-brown leather skirt with a built-in belt that hugged her hips just right, paired with a black halter cami. Velvet florals bloomed across the sheer mesh, like ink spreading in water. The delicate tie at the neckline and the open back teased more than it covered, letting the curves of her chest breathe against the air. If we were being honest it, it was more of a covering bikini top with curtains. It wasn't modest—far from it—but it was honest. Soft in its confidence and a little vulnerable.

Soraya wasn’t big on modesty. She’d already spent a large majority of her life covering almost every inch of skin for other’s satisfaction.

Still, she lingered in front of the mirror longer than she wanted to admit.

She moved on to makeup next, more in control here. She swept soft shimmer across her eyelids, letting it catch the light just right, lifting the corners with a foxy blend. A warm brown lip combo followed—subtle, but sensual. Polished. Intentional. She didn't rush. She never did. Glamming up was second nature, one of the few rituals that truly relaxed her. She thought of Dijonai then, how they'd once bonded over their love for fashion, makeup and heels that made statements louder than words.

Just as she added the final touch of gloss, her oven timer went off. She sighed, standing from her vanity chair and carefully padding into the kitchen.

Jiggy sat by the oven, tail twitching lazily like she was the one doing all the work.

"Thanks for looking out, chef," she laughed, slipping on oven mitts before carefully pulling the tray out.

The brownies were golden at the edges, still slightly gooey in the center—perfect. She let them cool as she packed up the rest of her things, slicing the squares neatly and transferring them into containers with practiced care. Her phone buzzed on the counter just as she was sealing the last lid.

She answered quickly, tucking her phone between her ear and shoulder while making her way back to the closet.

"Hello?" she said, scanning the floor for her shoes.

"I'll be right down," she added, slipping her feet into a pair of low-level black Miu Miu heels that hugged her ankles like they were made for her.

"Don't rush yourself, ma. I'm downstairs whenever you're ready."

That casual pet name—ma—was said so lightly it almost flew over her head.

Almost.

But it landed. Oh, it landed.

Her heart did something it hadn't in a while—skipped, stumbled, caught itself. She shook it off quickly, grabbing her purse and the brownie containers, trying not to overthink it. Paige called everyone names like that. Probably. Maybe. Right?

Still, she found herself holding the containers a little tighter as she hurried out of her building and spotted Paige's car waiting at the curb, headlights glowing against the soft dusk.

She slid into the passenger seat like she'd done so many times now, the door clicking shut behind her as she placed the containers in the back. When she finally looked over, Paige was silent.

Her gaze was already on her.

And not in a casual, what's up? kind of way. No, Paige was looking—really looking. Her eyes moved slowly, taking Soraya in from the top of her goddess braids to the curve of her waist, the cut of her cami, the way the skirt clung to her hips like it belonged there. Her stare lingered in a way that made Soraya suddenly hyper aware of the exposed skin at her chest and back, the way the neckline dipped dangerously low.

The air in the car thickened for just a moment.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," Soraya finally said, trying to break the tension—unsure if Paige was judging her, if the silence was disapproval, or worse, indifference.

It pulled Paige out of whatever trance she'd been in. Her lips tugged upward, soft and slow.

"Don't worry about it, beautiful."

Beautiful.

Another pet name. This one warmer. A little more intimate. A little more... intentional?

Soraya looked ahead quickly, lips parted in surprise but no words coming out. The butterflies in her stomach were unwelcome and unexpected. She didn't know what scared her more—how easily Paige said it, or how easily she liked hearing it.

As Paige pulled away from the curb, Soraya forced herself to breathe evenly, casting a sidelong glance at her driver.

It was her turn to look.

And oh, she looked.

Paige wore a pair of black cargo pants and a white cropped polo tank, the fit hugging her torso just right, revealing a sliver of toned waist and abs. Her hair was down and straightened, silky and effortless. It threw Soraya for a loop. She'd never seen Paige like this—feminine with just enough edge. She couldn't help but blink at the profile in front of her, like she was seeing her for the first time all over again.

She turned her gaze to the window quickly after, not trusting herself.

They pulled up to the apartment just as the sky dipped fully into night, warm light pouring from the windows onto the pavement. Soraya carried the containers of brownies carefully, and Paige stayed close behind her, not quite hovering but not straying too far either.

When Nalyssa opened the door, she was already grinning.

"Look who finally decided to show up," she teased, stepping aside to let them in.

She dapped Paige up first, before turning to Soraya and giving her a brief pat on the arm. That was the extent of her touch, and that boundary had been understood from day one. Soraya didn't do hugs or unnecessary contact, and everyone respected it.

"Fashionably late, huh?" Nalyssa said with a smirk, stepping back as the two walked in.

Paige glanced over her shoulder toward Soraya, who was hanging her purse up at the entrance. "Someone took her sweet time," she said casually with a small grin, tilting her head in Soraya's direction like it wasn't that big of a deal.

But Soraya had good hearing. Very good hearing.

She turned slowly and shot Paige a look—sharp enough to draw blood—before walking past the two of them, her heels clicking pointedly against the hardwood. Nalyssa raised her brows and looked at Paige like ‘girl...’, holding back a laugh.

Paige just sighed, dragging a hand down her face as she trailed behind.

The apartment buzzed with chatter and laughter. Dijonai and Arike were already at the kitchen island passing around drinks, Ty and Maddy were sprawled out across the floor with the rookies, and someone had music playing low in the background, just enough to fill the gaps in conversation.

The smell of something sweet in the air—probably the brownies Soraya brought—only added to the warmth of the room.

Soraya eased back into it quickly. She wasn't loud, but she wasn't closed off either. Her natural poise made her stand out no matter where she sat, but tonight she was unusually relaxed. She even cracked jokes here and there, and they landed. Like, really landed.

"Okay so, one time she told our Coach she couldn't finish the scrimmage because Mercury was in retrograde?" Dijonai burst out, unable to contain herself.

"I wasn't wrong," Soraya replied coolly, raising her brow. "We lost three players to rolled ankles that week. Don't play with the planets."

Everyone erupted. Even Teaira snorted into her drink.

Laughter came in waves, and Soraya's one-liners caught people off guard in the best way. The Soraya they'd seen in practice was focused, reserved, borderline intimidating. But tonight? She was magnetic—deadpan and witty with a rhythm all her own.

Paige laughed with them, but her attention kept drifting. She couldn't help it.

Her eyes followed Soraya without meaning to. The way that leather skirt moved when she walked, how her top dipped when she leaned forward—one wrong move and it would've revealed everything, if she hadn't tied it just right. And Paige had noticed things she hadn't before. Small tattoos near her ribs. Another under her shoulder. Subtle, delicate. Intriguing.

She was captivating in a way that made Paige feel both restless and rooted.

Eventually, the group filtered into the living room, drinks in hand for those who'd Ubered, water bottles or soda cans for the others. The couch and floor quickly filled with players sitting cross-legged, leaning into one another, lounging with the kind of ease only teammates could achieve.

Dijonai, drink in hand, stood in the center with her usual flair.

"Alright," she declared. "Never have I ever. Don't fight it. Team bonding."

Groans and eye rolls followed, but mostly playful ones.

Even Soraya, who usually slipped out of games like this with a raised brow and a conveniently timed phone call, stayed seated. She rolled her eyes, sure—but the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth betrayed her. "This game's always messy."

"That's the point," Arike said with a grin, already holding up her fingers.

Paige sat on the floor, back against the couch, her legs stretched out in front of her. Soraya settled onto a floor pillow a few feet across from her, crossing her legs at the ankle, posture perfect, fingers resting loosely on her lap like she had better things to do—but her eyes were glinting, amusement tugging at her mouth.

She was in it.

And Paige, from her spot on the floor, looked at her from under her lashes, suddenly hyper aware of the quiet tension pulling between them again.

It wasn't the game that had her nervous. It was whatever the hell this was..

Everyone held up ten fingers, and the first few questions came quick.

"Never have I ever shot on the wrong basket."

Half the room groaned, fingers dropping fast. Soraya included.

"Never have I ever been ejected from a game."

Another wave of laughter—especially when Teaira and Madison both dropped their fingers with a shared look of shame.

"Never have I ever gone on a date just for free food."

Fewer fingers fell. And when Soraya lowered hers, there were whistles and grins tossed her way.

Laughter cracked through the group like thunder, Aziaha nearly choking on her drink. But soon enough, the questions turned from harmless to heated.

"Never have I ever had a situationship that felt like a relationship," Nalyssa tossed out casually, like she wasn't about to expose half the circle.

One by one, fingers dropped. Except Soraya's.

"Seriously? Like never?" JJ blinked at her, clearly appalled. "That's basically the college experience."

Soraya cocked her head, the gold accents on her earrings catching the light. "That shit is stupid. I'm an adult, thank you."

A chorus of fake boos erupted. Someone threw a throw pillow her way. She caught it without flinching and dropped it right beside her with practiced grace.

"Okay, okay," Dijonai jumped back in, practically bouncing where she sat next to Nalyssa. Her grin was wicked. "Never have I ever hooked up with someone from an opposing team right before playing them the next day, dipped without a word, and then lost because they were out for vengeance."

Loud ooohs echoed. Soraya groaned, eyes narrowing at her friend like she might leap across the room.

"You're so annoying," she muttered, putting a finger down.

Paige was already laughing, shoulders shaking, head tipped back, the whole nine.

"It's not that funny, Bueckers," Soraya said flatly, though her lip twitched with a smile.

Paige only chuckled harder. "It’s hilarious, actually."

A few more rounds passed—some tame, some eye opening—but it was Soraya's turn again, and she didn't miss a beat.

She shifted slightly on the pillow. Her eyes locked on Dijonai, lips curling slow like she'd been waiting all night.

"Alright. I've never had a wet dream about a teammate and then couldn't look them in the eye for a whole day."

The room exploded.

Dijonai gasped like she'd just been shot. "That was years ago, and it was traumatizing!" she yelled, pointing wildly.

Nalyssa leaned into her girlfriend, cackling. "You didn't speak to me for 48 hours."

"I didn't know what to say!"

Soraya just leaned back like a queen in her throne, smug satisfaction radiating off her. "Whatever you sayyy."

But her victory was cut short when she saw it—movement across the circle. Paige, quiet and collected, lowering a finger.

For that question.

Soraya blinked.

Her brows pinched for just a second, confusion curling in her gut. It was subtle, but it was there. Who? Who had Paige had a dream about? Was it someone on the team now? Someone in the past? Someone in this room?

But before she could spiral deeper into suspicion, Paige looked up and right at her. The blonde smiled slightly. Slow. Crooked. Unapologetic.

And then—

"Never have I ever faked an orgasm," Paige said, smooth as silk, tossing it out like she wasn't digging her fingers into something deeper.

The question hit like a spark flicked into a gas line.

Giggles rose around the circle, but Soraya didn't move right away. She just looked at her. Something in her chest tightening, burning, thrumming low and quiet like a secret.

And slowly, like she was peeling back a layer of clothing, she dropped a finger.

Paige's brows rose subtly.

The others kept laughing, teasing, some dramatically offended, others proudly innocent, but all Paige could hear was the static buzz behind her ears—and see Soraya's perfectly still expression. Not flustered. Not shy. Just watching her like she knew exactly what she'd done.

The air between them crackled.

Her tongue flicked across her teeth behind closed lips, and she leaned back against the couch, eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to recalibrate.

Paige swore if they were even a little more alone, she might've said something stupid. Or done something worse. She didn't know if she was delusional, horny, or just weirdly intuitive—but whatever game Soraya was playing... Paige was ready to lose on purpose if it meant staying on the board.

Instead, she just bit the inside of her cheek and sat back, trying not to let it show.

But Soraya saw it.

It was almost 11 by the time people started standing, stretching, and murmuring their goodbyes—some hugging, some exchanging sleepy jokes, others pulling out their phones to call Ubers. A few of them swayed just a little more than usual, giggling tipsily as they stumbled into shoes or jackets. But not Soraya. And not Paige.

They were still steady. Still grounded. Still hyper aware of each other.

The night had been full of laughter, louder than expected, filled with too many inside jokes and confessions that would probably resurface in group chats come morning. But underneath all of it, a different current had been pulling—quiet but electric. Glances that lasted too long. Eyes catching across the room, then darting away. A couple times, Soraya had caught Paige already looking. Paige never tried to hide it.

Now, standing by the door, Soraya gave a single, lazy wave as everyone called out their goodbyes. Paige said a few quick words, hugging a few before the two of them stepped out into the warm Dallas night.

The heat wasn't bad, but it was the kind that lingered on your skin like a second layer. The streetlights buzzed softly. Soraya's heels clicked lightly on the pavement as they made their way to Paige's car. The ride back was supposed to be short—fifteen minutes, maybe less with little traffic—but the silence that filled the space between them made time stretch and thicken.

There was music playing low through the speakers, vocals melting into the hum of the engine. Paige's hand rested loosely on the wheel, the other shifting between the gear and her thigh. Her knuckles tapped occasionally with the rhythm. And still, she hadn't said a word.

Soraya sat back in the passenger seat, one leg crossed over the other, her eyes flicking toward Paige's profile now and then, subtly— like she couldn't stop herself. It felt hotter in the car than it should've. Summer creeping in early, or maybe it was just the weight of everything left unspoken between them.

When they pulled up in front of Soraya's apartment complex, Paige's headlights flashed across the familiar stone facade, casting quick shadows. She eased the car into park and for a second neither of them moved.

Soraya stared at the building, then at her lap, then back at Paige. The silence stretched tight.

"Wanna come up?" she said suddenly, her voice even and casual, almost as if it had just occurred to her.

She turned her head toward Paige with a calm expression, but there was something sharp underneath it.

Paige looked at her. Just looked. Studying her face, taking her in like she hadn't been doing it all night.

And then she nodded. Soft. Sure. No hesitation.

And up they went.

The hallway felt quieter than usual. More echoey. The faint smell of someone cooking down the hall mixed with the click of Soraya's heels against tile.

When Soraya unlocked the door, she didn't even need to flip the light switch to know what she was about to hear.

Sure enough, the moment the door creaked open, Jiggy padded into view with practiced entitlement, meowing as if to say finally.

The light flicked on. The cat made a beeline—not for Soraya, but for Paige.

"Oh my God," Paige laughed under her breath as Jiggy circled her ankles, tail held high like a question mark. "She remembers me?"

Soraya raised an eyebrow as she slipped her heels off by the door. "Of course she does. She's got standards."

Paige bent down and scooped the cat into her arms effortlessly, cradling her like she'd done it a hundred times before. Jiggy melted into her with a satisfied purr.

And Soraya just... stared for a second. The sight of Paige—tall, confident—holding her cat like a baby, her thumb gently stroking between Jiggy's ears... it did something to her. Softened her in a way she wasn't used to feeling around anyone. Definitely not someone who looked at her the way Paige did.

"God," she muttered, turning toward the kitchen to distract herself, "Why’d you have to be so cute?"

"What was that?" Paige called out with a smirk.

"Didn't say anything," Soraya tossed over her shoulder, voice light.

But her heart was thudding.

And Paige, now standing in the middle of her living room with a cat in her arms and something unreadable in her eyes, wasn't exactly making things easier.

Paige sat on the couch, legs spread comfortably, Jiggy curled comfortably against her thigh like the cat had claimed her as her own again.

The light in the apartment was low, golden and forgiving. The kind that made everything feel a little dreamlike. Or maybe it was just Soraya.

When she returned, Soraya had two cold cans of Diet Coke in hand. Condensation clung to the sides, dripping slightly onto her skin as she leaned over the coffee table and placed them down with a soft clink.

Then, casually, almost like it was nothing, "You smoke weed?"

Paige looked up from where she was gently scratching Jiggy's ear, her eyes meeting Soraya's across the small space.

A beat passed.

"Sometimes," she admitted, voice low but honest.

That faint smirk curved across Soraya's lips again, a little slower this time, a little more knowing. "Bet."

And with that, she turned and disappeared down the hall.

Paige stayed where she was, but she couldn't help the way her eyes trailed after her, the slight swing of her hips, the way her hair caught against her back. Everything about her was so... intentional. Even in silence, Soraya seemed to be saying something.

When she returned, she came armed—with a small ziplock bag, a Hello Kitty grinder, a bedazzled pink lighter that looked half used, and a neat little pack of papers.

‘Cute’, Paige thought to herself.

Soraya dropped the supplies on the coffee table and plopped down on the couch beside Paige like it was routine. Like they'd done this a dozen times before.

She didn't say a word.

Just reached for the grinder, poured some of the weed into it, and began twisting calmly, like she had all the time in the world. Her fingers worked with quiet confidence—no rush, no wasted movement. Paige watched her, not even pretending to look away. She noticed how Soraya's brow furrowed slightly as she concentrated, how her nails tapped the edge of the tray in rhythm with the music, how the ring on her thumb caught the light every time she passed it over the paper.

Then came the part that made Paige's breath catch.

Soraya brought the joint to her lips and licked the edge of the paper slowly, precisely. Her tongue traced the seam before she sealed it, her lashes low, her mouth soft and deliberate. Paige had to look away for half a second but it was too late. Her face already felt warm.

Soraya reached for the lighter, brought it to her lips once more and lit the end. She took a slow, steady inhale, holding the smoke in for a beat before letting it curl from her lips like a whisper.

The silence was thick now, but not awkward. Not empty. Just heavy.

Soraya turned her head, eyes finally meeting Paige's. There was no smirk this time. No teasing. Just a slow, quiet look as she extended the J in her hand, offering it wordlessly.

There was no pressure in the gesture. No expectation. Just the space to say yes or no.

Paige took it.

Their fingers brushed as she did—skin to skin, warm and fleeting—but it lingered. A spark that passed from hand to hand. Soraya didn't look away, and neither did Paige.

She brought the joint to her lips, inhaled slowly. The smoke curled around her like fog, and Soraya watched the way she moved through it. The way the red tip of the joint glowed faintly in her hand. The way her mouth opened slightly with each exhale.

"You smoke often?" Paige asked after a long moment, her voice softer now. Almost lazy. The way people get when their edges begin to melt.

That earned her a look from Soraya—something unreadable flickering in her eyes before she took the J back. She inhaled again, slower this time, deeper. Like she was savoring it.

"Special occasions only," she murmured.

Paige tilted her head slightly. "What's the special occasion?" The question was teasing, but gentle. A nudge. A smile curling on her lips.

Soraya let out a soft laugh—an actual laugh, one that Paige hadn't quite heard yet. It was quieter than the ones she gave the team, less performative. A real sound. And for some reason, it made Paige want to lean in.

"I don't know," Soraya said, gaze dropping to the rolled piece in her hand, then flicking back up to Paige. Her voice was low, almost amused, but there was a vulnerability tucked beneath the words. "You tell me."

And Paige could've sworn her heart skipped a beat. It was suddenly so easy to forget that this was still technically just a casual nightcap between teammates. That they hadn't even kissed. That nothing had happened yet.

Because everything was happening already.

Right there, in the silence. In the smoke. In the way their knees brushed when they shifted. In the way Jiggy had fallen asleep against Paige's thigh like she was already home.

At some point, Jiggy abandoned them.

She hopped down from Paige's lap with a soft thud and padded off into Soraya's room, her tail twitching once as if to say ’good luck’, before disappearing down the hall. Maybe it was the lingering smell of weed—or maybe even the cat couldn't handle the tension in the room anymore.

The joint was nearly gone, passed back and forth like a secret. Their fingers had brushed a dozen times now and each touch burned hotter than the last. Their bodies were relaxed, slouched and open in a way that only came with that deep, sinking high, like the gravity had shifted and softened just for them.

Paige couldn't ignore it anymore. Couldn't ignore the way her lips tingled when the joint, still warm from Soraya's mouth, touched hers. Couldn't ignore the faint taste left behind—sweet, unmistakable, chocolate lip gloss. She knew she wasn't imagining it. Knew it wasn't just weed induced paranoia. She could taste her.

That alone was driving her a little insane.

Somewhere along the way, they'd turned toward each other, almost magnetically. Paige now lounged back against the couch, legs wide, that lazy manspread like she owned the place. One arm slung casually over the backrest, fingertips nearly brushing Soraya's shoulder. Her body language was open, indulgent. Like she was daring Soraya to come closer without ever saying a word.

Soraya, meanwhile, had folded herself into the corner of the couch, her legs tucked under her, skirt riding up her thighs without her even noticing—or maybe not caring. She knelt slightly, leaning toward Paige, red rimmed eyes locked on her with a kind of amusement, but also something else. Something slow burning. Her lashes fluttered as she laughed and giggled, as her voice lifted, lighter than usual. The weed had peeled back her layers just a little. Made her softer and looser. She giggled at Paige's dry comments like they were stand-up material, body tilting forward and supporting herself with a hand on the rookie’s shoulder. And every time she did, Paige felt like she'd earned gold.

She wasn't even trying to be funny anymore. She just liked the sound of Soraya's laugh.

The room was drenched in sensuality—almost too much of it. The music hadn't helped. Soraya had thrown on a playlist earlier without a second thought, just wanting background noise. But now... now it played the kind of songs that made you want to slide a hand up someone's thigh. Slow beats, sultry voices. Jhené Aiko crooning softly over the speakers, followed by a slow Bryson track. Then Doja. Then PARTYNEXTDOOR. It was music meant to be played with hands between bodies and mouths pressed to skin.

And they both knew it. They just hadn't said it.

Paige's eyes were dark now. Not the usual bright, carolina blue, but something stormy, clouded. She was watching Soraya with a hunger she wasn't trying to hide. Her gaze moved over her like a hand—lingering on her thighs, the slope of her neck, her lips as she chewed them slightly, unconsciously. It was all slow, all thick and heavy like honey.

Then, like she was trying to snap herself out of it, Paige spoke—voice deeper now, worn soft by weed and want.

"As fun as this is, it's getting real late."

She didn't move, though. Didn't make any effort to get up. Her head turned slightly toward the door, but her body stayed exactly where it was, rooted beside Soraya like she was stuck to the couch.

Soraya didn't miss it. She shrugged a shoulder, casual but her voice had that same weighted undertone. "You can't drive like this. Just stay the night, I don't mind."

Paige's mouth curved into a slow, knowing smirk. "Oh, you don't mind?" Her eyes dropped to Soraya's mouth. "Or you want me to stay?"

A breath of laughter slipped from Soraya's lips before she could stop it. It came from the chest, quiet, a little raspy. The weed made it harder to be careful. She tried to roll her eyes, but it didn't land the way she meant it to. Nothing she did could hide how warm her face felt, or the way her chest fluttered under that gaze.

"Maybe."

The corner of Paige's mouth twitched again. She leaned deeper into the couch, even more relaxed, legs spread further now. Like she wanted Soraya to feel the space she was offering. Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "It's a yes or no, ma. Can't have you being unsure."

She brought the joint back to her lips—what little was left of it—and took a lazy hit. Then she leaned forward just enough, still lounging, still looking like sex personified, and held it out in front of Soraya's face.

There was something so quiet in the moment. So devastatingly attractive.

Soraya looked at the joint, then back at Paige. The blonde's hand steady, fingers loose but sure and her lips parted. There was something in her eyes that didn't blink.

Soraya leaned in.

Her lips wrapped around the joint exactly where Paige's had been. They didn't break eye contact—not once—as she pulled, slow and deep, the tip burning bright. The smoke settled in her lungs like it belonged there. Her heart pounded harder, louder, and she swore Paige could hear it.

Then she exhaled, smoke curling between them like a veil, thin and white. Her lips parted slightly as she did, and the faintest tremble threatened to betray her.

Paige hadn't moved. Still slumped. Still watching.

Those sharp blue eyes were half lidded now. Unreadable. Unrelenting.

The music behind them was still playing—something darker now, slick and dripping in bass. Paige's lap still looked inviting, and Soraya couldn't stop herself from imagining how it might feel to crawl into it.

Soraya nodded.

It was small—barely more than a dip of her chin—but it was all Paige needed. Her lips were parted, the gloss still catching the soft glow of the TV light, but they looked dry now. Kiss starved. The kind of mouth that needed to be ruined or worshipped—there was no in between.

"Yes."

That one word was soft. Steady. But it split the moment in half. Like it answered more than what Paige had asked. Like it reached back to every sideways glance, every unspoken stare since the day they ‘met’. Every tension laced interaction that had crawled under their skin and taken root. Yes was surrender. Yes was want. Yes was finally.

The joint burned quietly between Paige's fingers.

She held it out to Soraya, never breaking eye contact, and her voice came out like smoke—slow, husky, and laced with a pull that couldn't be denied. "C'mere."

Two syllables. A command and a confession all in one.

The second Soraya moved, something shifted. A switch flipped. Her body seemed to move before her brain could catch up. Like the ache between her legs had taken over the steering wheel. Like the weed had slipped its fingers into her bloodstream and whispered ’go.’

She straddled Paige with quiet hunger, one knee sinking into the couch cushion then the other, until she was settled firmly in her lap. Right on top of her. Right where she wanted to be. Right where Paige needed her.

The soft leather of her skirt rode up her thighs in the motion, revealing smooth skin, just enough to make Paige's throat go dry. The way Soraya sat was intentional, hips tilted forward, pressing herself down like she wanted Paige to feel everything.

And god, did she feel it.

Paige let her eyes trail down, slow and shameless. Those thighs—soft and warm and pressing down against her lap like a living fever. But then Paige's gaze dragged lower, catching the slight tremble in Soraya's hands as she took the joint again.

Soraya was just as gone. Her eyes wandered over Paige's exposed skin, the hem of her crop top riding up from the way she was slouched. It bunched at her ribs, barely covering the hard lines of her stomach. Abs hidden and revealed in folds that looked good enough to bite.

Soraya licked her lips unconsciously. She imagined dragging her tongue along every ridge. She wanted to touch and she wanted to taste. But instead, she brought the joint to her lips again and took one last, deep hit.

Then, her hand reached forward, fingers curling under Paige's jaw, tilting her face up gently. Her touch was careful, reverent. And then she leaned in, slow and dangerously close.

Her mouth hovered just above Paige's.

And she exhaled.

Smoke poured from her lips directly into Paige's mouth—warm, thick, tasting of weed and chocolate and something maddeningly Soraya. Their lips never touched, but it didn't matter. The space between them sizzled. Paige's hands found her hips, fingers digging into her waist, like holding her was the only way to stay grounded.

Their mouths lingered there. A breath apart.

Close enough that Paige could feel the heat of her. Could feel Soraya's breath catching. Her pulse racing. Could see every detail in her eyes, dilated and bloodshot.

There was a beat where Soraya didn't move. She just stared at Paige, pupils blown wide and chest rising in quick, shallow breaths. The weed clouded her thoughts, but not enough to drown out the way her body screamed for something more. Something to answer the ache now burning low in her stomach, in the space between her thighs where Paige's thigh rested.

She wasn't used to this. The silence between wanting and taking.

Soraya Mensima wasn't afraid. She rarely was. But this felt different. Not because she didn't want it—but because she wanted it too much. And in this moment, she needed to let go of the wheel.

So she leaned in, close enough that Paige could feel the brush of her breath again.

‘Fuck it.’

The words never left her lips, but Paige could see them pass through her expression. In the way her shoulders dropped. In the way her lips parted slightly, expectantly. In the way she looked at Paige like she was giving permission—not out of submission, but necessity.

Paige didn't hesitate.

She grabbed Soraya's face like she'd been dying to. Like her hands had been twitching to do it all night. One hand slid behind her neck, the other gripping her jaw, fingers spread wide like she was anchoring herself. And then she pulled her in.

Their lips met in a kiss that was anything but tentative.

It started soft, yes—testing the waters for the briefest second, a flicker of hesitation—and then it devoured.

Open mouthed. Desperate. Hungry.

Like Paige had been starved for a taste and Soraya was the meal she hadn't known she'd been craving until now. She kissed her like she needed it to breathe, like she'd been wandering through a desert and Soraya was the first drink of water she'd found.

Soraya melted into her immediately. Her hands gripped Paige's arms, nails digging through the fabric of her shirt, holding on like the kiss was threatening to pull her under. The soft clink of bracelets on her wrist echoed faintly as her hands started to move—grabbing at Paige's shoulders, her chest, her waist. Anywhere.

There was nothing gentle about it. They kissed like they'd waited too long and now had too little time. Lips clashing, tongues tangling, breath catching between them in broken little gasps. They didn't pull away. Not even to breathe. Only long enough to change angles, to kiss deeper, harder, hungrier.

Paige's grip tightened at Soraya's waist, blunt nails digging in to drag her closer, grind her down just enough that they both felt it. A strangled sound slipped from Soraya's throat, caught between a whimper and a moan, and Paige swallowed it like she wanted to collect every sound Soraya could give her.

Soraya's mouth tasted like smoke and watermelon gum and heat. And Paige kissed her like she wanted to memorize every bit of it with her tongue. One of Soraya's hands buried in Paige's hair now, tugging just enough to make the blonde groan into her mouth, and god—if she'd known it would feel like this, she would've said yes days ago.

The music in the background had long faded into white noise. The playlist still spun sensual tracks on shuffle, The Weeknd humming some filthy lyric in the background, but neither of them heard it now.

There was only heat. Skin. Lips. Tongue. The rustle of clothing. The sharp inhale when Paige grabbed Soraya's ass through her skirt and pulled her flush against her.

And Soraya? She didn't stop it. Didn't slow it. Didn't even try to tame the wildfire they'd sparked. Her body moved on instinct now, chasing friction, chasing sensation, chasing her.

She wasn't thinking anymore. She was feeling.

And Paige's hands, mouth, and body were giving her everything she didn't know she needed.

Eventually, Paige broke the kiss, breath ragged and eyes searching, her hands still holding Soraya's face like something precious. The world felt quiet, everything dulled except for the pounding of their hearts and the warmth between their bodies.

"Look at me," Paige murmured, and Soraya did—her lashes heavy, lips swollen, pupils so blown out her eyes looked nearly black. Her breath caught in her throat at the way Paige was looking at her, gaze simmering with restraint and need all at once.

"I need you," Paige said, voice low and husky with emotion and hunger. "But only if you want this too."

The air felt too still, too thick. Soraya's mind, already fogged from the weed and the ache between her legs, didn't hesitate. Her nod came first, slow and sure. Then her voice followed, soft but steady.

"Yeah."

One word, but it sealed everything.

Paige didn't move right away. She watched Soraya for a few more seconds, eyes scanning her face like she was double checking every detail. For sincerity. For a reason to stop.

But she found none.

So Paige's hands slid down to Soraya's hips again, curling under her ass as she rose to her feet in one smooth motion, lifting Soraya with her like it was second nature. Soraya's legs instinctively wrapped around her waist, her hands bracing against Paige's shoulders.

As the blonde turned and gently sat her back on the couch, she leaned in to kiss her again—deeper this time, but somehow slower and more deliberate. Her hands roamed, sliding up the curve of Soraya's waist beneath the material of her top that barely covered anything anyway, fingertips dragging over her warm skin, memorizing it.

With one knee between Soraya's legs, Paige hovered over her, just close enough that their breaths mixed again. She kissed her slowly, like she could lose herself in the taste. Soraya let her, let herself fall deeper and deeper into it, until Paige began trailing down, her mouth ghosting down her jaw, her neck, the hollow of her throat.

Then Paige pulled back.

She knelt.

Right in front of the couch, between Soraya's open legs, hands caressing the smooth skin of her thighs. Soraya could hardly breathe as she looked down at her, breath caught like a stone in her chest. The heat of Paige's hands, the intimacy of her position—so close, so reverent—left her lightheaded.

Paige placed a soft kiss on Soraya's left knee. Then the right. Gentle, like prayer. Like worship.

It made Soraya dizzy.

"You're fucking killing me," Soraya whispered, the first thing she'd said since the yes.

Paige's lips curled into a smirk against her skin. "Good."

She spread Soraya's thighs slowly, her hands firm but tender. The sight that met her had Paige cursing under her breath—purple lace, slightly damp, so soft and delicate it almost felt unfair. Her mouth watered.

"Fuck..." she murmured, almost to herself. "You're so pretty like this."

She kissed the inside of Soraya's left thigh, then right, inching higher with each kiss, her voice low and warm against her skin.

"I've been thinking about this since the second I saw you."

Another kiss, even higher.

"Since the first time you invited me up."

Higher still. Paige's voice dropped even more, practically a whisper.

"Since the way you looked at me across the room tonight like you wanted me to ruin you."

Soraya's breath stuttered. Her thighs twitched in Paige's hands.

Paige looked up then—just for a second. Her lips brushed over the crease where thigh met hip, dangerously close.

"Y’do want me to ruin you , don't you?"

And Soraya could only nod again, barely able to form the words, her fingers curling into the couch beneath her.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Fuck, yeah."

Paige's lips didn't stop moving, trailing further up the inside of Soraya's thighs with each kiss, each brush of her mouth a new promise. Soraya's skirt had already started to ride up with how wide her legs were spread, the leather bunched around her hips, and Paige took her time.

Her hands moved with purpose, sliding along the hem until they found the small side zipper. With one hand she tugged it down, slow and deliberate, the metallic sound of it unzipping breaking through the heavy silence like a warning bell. The built-in belt hung uselessly, never meant to be functional. Paige didn't touch it. She didn't need to.

She peeled the skirt down Soraya's legs inch by inch, letting her knuckles brush along the soft skin of her thighs as she did. When it finally slipped off completely, she tossed it to the floor without looking away from her. Her eyes stayed locked on Soraya like she was studying something sacred. Like she wanted to remember every reaction, every shift of breath.

Paige leaned back in, her breath warm against the front of Soraya's purple panties. That shade—pale and light, her exact favorite kind of purple—caught her off guard. Of all the colors in the world, of course it was that one. It made her blink slowly, almost like the universe was mocking her with how perfect this felt.

She looked up, locking eyes with Soraya, her voice low and full of restrained hunger.

"Can I take these off, ma?"

Soraya's breath hitched, her lips parting as her chest rose with the weight of her anticipation. Her eyes were already glassy, breath shallow.

She exhaled. “Mhm.”

Paige's fingers moved to the waistband, hooking around the delicate fabric so gently it made Soraya's stomach twist. She pulled them down slow—agonizingly slow—making sure the brunette felt every second of it. The way her fingers dragged down her hips, her thighs. The way the fabric caught momentarily on her skin before giving in.

Once they were off, Paige let them fall to the floor beside the skirt, and then she returned to her knees.

She lifted Soraya's legs gently, draping them over her shoulders with careful hands like she was setting up something sacred. The weight of them grounded her, but the sight in front of her nearly knocked the air from her lungs.

Face to face with Soraya's core, glistening and inviting, Paige could do nothing but stare for a long, suspended moment. She swallowed hard, lips parting, a soft curse slipping out under her breath.

"Fuck..."

She was completely, utterly entranced. And she hadn't even tasted her yet.

Paige didn't move at first. Just took her in, like Soraya was something holy and intoxicating all at once. Her lips were barely an inch away, and when she finally spoke, it was with a rasp that made Soraya's hands curl against the couch cushions.

"Just wanna kiss it," Paige muttered, almost to herself, eyes glued to Soraya's glistening cunt. "Just one little kiss."

And she did. Soft. Barely there. Like a whisper of a touch, like she was trying to memorize the feeling and taste in slow motion. Then another, with more pressure and less restraint. It had Soraya twitching, breath catching in her throat as her hips lifted slightly in response.

But that was all it took. Paige let out a quiet groan, deep and low in her throat like it physically hurt to hold back. Her hands tightened around Soraya's thighs and then she was in it—mouth open, tongue flattening against her with no shame, no patience.

Every slow flick and lick turned greedy. Every drag of her tongue became more intense, messier. Paige was absolutely gone.

"Goddamn," she breathed against her, voice wet and muffled. "You taste so fuckin' good, mama..."

Soraya whimpered—an honest, unfiltered sound—and it only made Paige work harder, tongue lapping at her with messy, unrelenting strokes like she was starving. She wasn't just eating—she was devouring. Worshipping.

Spit and slick, her mouth moving with purpose as she moaned into it, like she needed Soraya to know how much she loved every single second of this. She mumbled filth between licks, words slurred and drunk with need.

"Fuck, you're perfect. So sweet. So wet. All f'me, huh?"

Soraya couldn't answer. Not with words. Just breathless cries and quiet moans that got louder every time Paige's lips wrapped around her clit and sucked, again and again. Her fingers clenched the cushions, legs trembling around Paige's shoulders.

Whenever Paige let out a "That's it, mama," or "You like that, huh, baby?", it lit the other girl up from the inside out. Made her stomach clench. Made her thighs shake. That nickname in Paige's voice, drenched in lust, had her head spinning.

Paige didn't stop. Didn't want to stop. She was lost in it—pussy drunk, completely feral. Her hands gripped tighter, mouth moving faster, sloppier. Like the taste of Soraya was the only thing tethering her to the ground.

And Soraya? She was gone too. Unraveled. Floating somewhere above the room with every flick of Paige's tongue and every ragged moan whispered against her. Her whimpers turned into cries, the kind that echoed off the walls and left her unable to hold anything back.

She'd never been devoured like this. Worshipped like this. Fucked like this without even needing to be fucked.

Paige was the whole experience. And she wasn't even done.

She didn’t come up for air.

Not when her jaw started to ache. Not when her arms started to shake from holding Soraya so close, so still, so completely spread for her. Her mouth was messy, her face soaked with spit and slick.

She was ravenous and adorned with greed—tongue working in slow, then fast strokes, dragging and curling as she devoured the girl above her like she was the only thing she’d ever eat again.

There was nothing sweet about the way she moved. Just pure hunger. Like she needed to claim every inch of her, mark her with her mouth. She groaned into her again, louder this time, tongue pressing deep and curling, nose brushing Soraya’s clit in just the right rhythm.

Soraya gasped, hand flying to the back of Paige’s head, not to pull her away—no. To pull her closer. Her voice came out shaky, breathless, almost ruined. “Fuck… Paige…”

That alone earned her another deep groan from between her legs, like Paige needed to hear her name fall apart on her tongue.

And then—quiet but clear—Soraya exhaled, “That’s it, Paige. You’re so good at this.”

That broke something in Paige. Shattered any sliver of control she had left.

She hummed into Soraya’s pussy, sucking on her clit now, tongue flicking harsh and fast as her hands gripped the girl’s thighs like she could fuse them to her skull. She was fully unhinged. Greedy. Possessed.

“Say that shit again,” Paige rasped between sucks, eyes wild when she glanced up, her voice strained and hoarse. “Say it again, mama. Tell me whose pussy this is.”

Soraya was barely breathing, her words tumbling out between moans, “Yours… all yours, don’t stop—”

Paige didn’t. She dove back in like a woman starved, moving with messy precision, chasing every moan like it was oxygen. Her hips subtly rolled into the couch from underneath, lost in the rhythm of what she was doing.

“Look at you,” Paige murmured darkly against her, licking a fat stripe from slick to clit, “fuckin’ fallin’ apart just for me. So wet, so fuckin’ good…”

She kissed it, then licked again, then sucked—loud and wet. Soraya cried out, hips arching upward instinctively, the sound guttural and raw. Paige grinned into it.

“You like that, mama?” she rasped, her voice wrecked, wet and swollen lips brushing against Soraya’s core with every syllable. “You gonna cum for me just like this? Let me taste all of it?”

“God—keep talking,” Soraya whined, eyes rolling back as her hands trembled in Paige’s hair. “You’re fucking sick.”

Paige chuckled lowly and quietly, tongue sliding deep again before she pulled back to kiss the inside of her thigh—just once—before diving back in. “Maybe. But you fucking love it.”

Her fingers slid up, spreading Soraya open even more, and her tongue worked like she had something to prove. Like she’d die if she didn’t make her cum in her mouth. She didn’t care how soaked her chin was, didn’t care about anything except the taste, the sounds, the way Soraya moaned her name like she owned it. Like it was a prayer.

“Shit, maybe,” she breathed, half-laughing, half-moaning, her legs tightening around Paige’s head. “You—fuck, Paige, I can’t—”

“You can,” Paige corrected. “Wanna feel all of it, baby.”

Soraya whimpered, dragged one hand up to her mouth where she bit down on her knuckles before yanking it away and reaching for Paige again.

The rookie latched back on to her clit, moaning into her as her hands gripped Soraya’s thighs tight. Her mouth moved with a rhythm and power that should’ve been illegal, and all Soraya could do was fall apart.

Paige could feel it. The way Soraya’s thighs clenched, how her moans dissolved into whimpers, her hips twitching—every inch of her trembling and on the edge.

“Cum for me, mama,” Paige murmured, licking through her like sin. “Let me taste how good I make you feel.”

And Soraya did.

With a cry that ripped from her throat and a body that buckled under pleasure, she let go. Paige didn’t stop, not even as she came, licking her through it, drinking down every drop with a greed that was almost frightening.

And when Soraya finally collapsed back into the couch, chest heaving, skin flushed and trembling—Paige licked her lips and looked up at her like she just found a new religion.

Soraya couldn’t think.

Her body was still humming, strung out in the best way, chest heaving as if she’d just run a marathon with no finish line in sight. The room felt thick with heat, smoke, and the echo of her own voice, moans she barely recognized as her own still ringing in her ears.

Paige was still between her legs, eyes heavy and mouth glistening, and Soraya didn’t dare move. Couldn’t. She was stuck in the moment, pulse fluttering in her throat, legs twitching involuntarily.

The only sound was their breathing. Paige looked wrecked. Flushed cheeks, wet chin, swollen lips parted as she was still catching her breath. But her eyes stayed locked on Soraya, never once breaking contact, as if she were trying to memorize every inch of her.

Soraya hated how much she liked being looked at like that.

And even worse? She didn’t want her to stop.

She swallowed hard, reaching down with fingers that barely felt steady enough to move. They brushed through Paige’s hair gently, grounding herself. Paige leaned into the touch.

The softness of that moment nearly broke something open in Soraya.

She blinked, tried to slow the rush of thoughts that flooded her—what the hell just happened, why did it feel like that, why did she already want more?

“Uh…” she started, but her voice was raw. She didn’t even know where she was going with it.

Paige looked at her, raising a brow, a lazy little smile playing on her lips. “Uh?”

Soraya huffed a breath, her smile barely there. “I don’t know what to say.”

Paige chuckled, dragging her hands slowly up Soraya’s thighs, light and reverent. “It’s fine. Just breathe. Don’t want you passing out on me.”

That should’ve made Soraya laugh. Or roll her eyes. Or something.

But all she could do was stare.

Her body was still buzzing. Her mind was a mess. She didn’t know what this meant, didn’t want to think about it too hard—but Paige’s presence between her thighs, the burn in her lungs, the ache still blooming in her stomach—it all screamed that something had changed.

And yet, Soraya didn’t pull away. Didn’t move to cover herself. Didn’t speak.

She just let Paige’s fingers trace slow patterns into her skin, let the silence stretch between them like a thread pulled too tight. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was risky.

She didn’t want to admit how much she liked it. How she wanted to reach down, pull her back in, let her do it all over again.

But she didn’t. Because that would mean admitting she wanted her in some way. And Soraya wasn’t ready for that.

After Soraya directed Paige towards the bathroom and she disappeared down the hall, the room felt strangely quiet. Too quiet. Soraya leaned back against the couch, her chest still rising and falling, skin tingling, nerves flickering like a live wire. The haze of weed and release hadn’t cleared yet, but the first hints of post-climax clarity were creeping in.

She swallowed hard. Her legs fell a little heavier against the cushions now that Paige wasn’t holding them up. The absence was loud. Almost too loud.

By the time Paige returned, a damp washcloth in one hand and something unreadable behind her red, half-lidded eyes, Soraya was still—watching. Thinking too hard. Feeling too much.

Paige knelt again, silent, gentle. She didn’t say anything as she ran the cloth over sensitive skin, careful and slow, as if Soraya might break. She didn’t flinch, but she didn’t sigh or smile either. She just watched. Her lips parted once, maybe to say something—thank you, maybe? But nothing came out.

“Let me know if it’s too much,” Paige murmured lowly, almost like she was checking in, like the lines of care were still being drawn.

Soraya just shook her head, a nearly imperceptible movement. “It’s fine.”

And it was. But it also wasn’t.

When Paige finished, she sat back on her heels, wiping her hands dry on her thigh. “I should let you sleep,” she said, quiet but casual.

Soraya hesitated, then nodded, before slipped her panties back on with slow, practiced movements, her fingertips grazing the sides of her thighs where Paige’s hands had just been. The air felt thick around her, heavy with heat and haze, and though her breathing had started to settle, her thoughts hadn’t.

She didn’t say anything at first, just quietly rose from the couch, legs still a little unsteady, and padded toward her bedroom.

“Guest room’s just down the hall,” she said over her shoulder, not quite looking back.

Paige, still kneeling on the floor and catching her breath, nodded in silence, lips parted like she’d thought about saying something but stopped herself.

Inside her room, Soraya quickly changed into her pajamas. The room was dimly lit, and for a second, she caught her reflection in the mirror: cheeks still flushed, lips still swollen, a familiar unreadable expression settled in her eyes. She didn’t look away. Not yet.

She grabbed a folded shirt and a pair of cotton shorts from her drawer—simple, loose, soft. The hem on the shorts reached her knees, and she figured they’d fit Paige just fine. Close enough. She hesitated before grabbing a fresh set of sheets from the closet, cradling the bundle against her chest as she walked back down the hall.

Paige was standing in the guest room now, just inside the doorway. Her arms were loosely crossed over her chest, like she didn’t quite know what to do with them—an unfamiliar awkwardness that tugged gently at Soraya’s chest. She didn’t say anything as Soraya walked past her and to the bed, setting the clothes down carefully.

“These should fit just fine,” Soraya murmured, smoothing out the shirt with her hand.

Paige’s eyes flicked to the clothes, then to Soraya. Her voice was soft, quiet in a way that felt strangely intimate. “Thank you.”

It was just two words, but it made something in Soraya tighten.

She focused on the sheets instead, methodically stripping the bed and remaking it with clean linens. Paige watched her the whole time, not out of expectation, but as if watching was the only thing she could do. The silence between them wasn’t tense, it was full, almost thoughtful. But it pressed down on Soraya all the same.

She stood at the doorway once she was done, her hand resting lightly on the frame. She didn’t say anything right away. The words felt heavier now that they were here, standing in this new version of space between them.

“Goodnight,” she finally said, eyes not quite meeting Paige’s. “Sleep well.”

And then she turned before Paige could reply, disappearing down the hall and back into her own room.

The second the door clicked shut behind her, Soraya exhaled like she’d been holding her breath the entire time.

She crossed the room and sat at the edge of her bed, her head falling forward into her hands. Jiggy was already curled on the pillows, small body tucked into a loaf beside where Soraya usually lay.

Soraya didn’t move at first. Her heart was still beating too fast, a low, steady thump echoing through her chest, her throat, her wrists. She stripped back the covers and climbed beneath them, laying flat with her eyes wide open, staring up at the dark ceiling.

Jiggy shuffled closer and pressed into her side.

What the hell did I just do?

The thought came sharp and cold, slicing through the soft warmth that lingered from Paige’s touch. Her hands rose slowly, covering her face as she groaned softly into the empty room.

She hadn’t meant for this to happen. She hadn’t wanted it to happen.

Except… she had.

That was the worst part. She hadn’t just let it happen—she’d wanted it. She’d wanted Paige’s mouth on her, her hands on her skin, her voice murmuring things Soraya should never let herself crave.

And now the air between them was different. Something irreversible had bloomed in the silence, and she’d thrown her own rules—rules she set for a reason—out the window for a night of hungry, breathless want.

She rubbed her hands down her face, forcing herself to breathe.

The ceiling fan spun in lazy circles. The bedsheets felt too hot. Her skin still tingled. And her mind was spinning in cruel, chaotic loops.

She’d fucked up. Big time.

extended taglist 🐆 — @thelightknight21 @private-but-not-a-secret @angryflowerwitch @jieysiee @angelliicc @paigebaby5 @ttytttt-gndgnvbm @syraxbigfanfr @forward1212 @niya500 @wosolipa @enchantingesme @everyonewatchesuconnwbb @ksimsplayer @hggbiijj @pupbistro

#⇢ ˗ˏˋ vamptizm writes ࿐ྂ #snooze ᯓᡣ𐭩 #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x female oc #wnba x oc #dallas wings #uconn wbb

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retiredteabag · 2 months ago

Note

*slips into view and drops scene*

Lol me just imagining reader who doesnt say when shes cold, only to have Sukuna reluctant to leave her until shes warmed up.

oh yeah...I like how you think

masterlist

While it is true that he is able to create and manipulate fire in 'divine flame' attacks, Sukuna's natural body temperature lies far outside the realm of what is considered normal for a human.

Beyond that truth, The King of Curses had an unparalleled stature, his anatomy was unlike that of anyone you had met. His body generated more heat from the moving that unavoidable mass then most portable gas heaters back home.

You, however, were not blessed with the warm nature that he carried with him. On winter nights, you could find him sitting quietly on the estate's engawa, a loose kimono covering little of his form. Comfortable as ever.

To him, you were that of a bird, bound to the weak nature you were born into, a meek, trembling human. And though true, he favored you more than any other servant, you would not dare image yourself worthy of requesting more than what had been given you.

You were a grateful person, truly; it was simply difficult to recall this fact about yourself when you are currently unable to control the wracking jitters that seem to permeate even through to your bones.

The estate was always far too cold for your taste, but your taste is not the kind that need be accommodated. So all that time ago when you replaced the bathhouse maid, you knew you would die before you messed up the job.

Namely because you did actually know your life was on the line, and inversely because the sudatorium nature of the room was more comforting than hardly anything else offered in the whole of the grounds.

You shook, not from the cold all those nights ago, but from the fear of the man before you in the scalding water.

But as time bled away and Sukuna took notice of you more, your needless fear eased. Still, even now, it was strange to speak so informally to your King.

"Your fragility is a curious thing to observe."

You steeled yourself as Sukuna rose from his position before you. You were wrapped in layered robes but the chill would not leave you be. Ashamed suddenly, as you were at how repulsed he must find himself, watching you, unable to withstand such temperatures.

You shift on your feet, "I...have a larger surface area for cooling." You clear your throat, knowing he is observing you, feeling those eyes, ceaseless eyes, “This provides more opportunities for my body heat to dissipate into the environment." You make a show of your hands, explaining why perhaps your inferior nature was so different from his own.

He rolled those very eyes and grinned. No, smirked. The King of Curses smirked. This near smile almost caused the chill in your being to fade. Almost.

"You must be careful to not be caught outside in such conditions." He came close, one large hand, all-encompassing, came to lay on your head.

Heat seemed to spread from this fraction of his body. You had the sudden and completely inappropriate desire to fall to the floor and lay upon him as a feline might wrap itself in pockets of sunshine.

Blood pumped in your ears and your hands came to touch your cheeks.

Another of his own came and curled behind your neck, before you even felt the touch, you noticed the air surrender to his intensity. "Careful indeed." He whispered.

Little things such as this were the events you would tell yourself to ignore. Your heart, or pride might grow too large, and that is no position for a servant to themselves in.

"I must be off, Lord Sukuna." You did not wrap your palm around his wrist, although it took great fortitude not to.

You made no effort to move from him, and he made no effort to free you from himself.

"Tell me of your discomfort before I become displeased with you." One very large finger slides down the path of your spine and the heat that emits from the single digit is undeniable. You shake from the sensation, but it seems the King misunderstands.

You hold all of his attention, and he holds all of you. His stare is intense, and something else. He looks so confused at the creature that is you. Determined to end the suffering of such an inferior being. The critter in his palm.

He had never felt this way before.

And for the second time, due to this very man, you had never been so warm.

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wannaeatramyeon · 3 months ago

Text

Gun Park x Reader: Awkward Flirtations

G/N. Gun can't flirt but you catch the signals anyway. Masterlists

Gun doesn't flirt. Or at least, he has never tried.

Curse him and his stupidly good looks, he has never had to. He's a straight talking, cut the bullshit kind of guy, which may lead to people giving him funny looks if he was anyone else but this is Gun Park. There is no lack of confidence, no lack of handsomeness, and everyone that he has fallen into bed with, he has done so with very little effort.

The other thing is he has never liked anyone before. Goo declares he himself is falling in love with someone every other week. Of course you're a fool if you believe a single word that comes out of that blonde's mouth but Gun suspects Goo has never liked anyone before either.

There's never been any sort of romance in Gun's life; he doesn't have the time or the inclination for it. He has his needs fulfilled and then prefers not to see them ever again. Days are better off spent training or chasing money.

And yet-

Your eyes meet his across the store. You give him a curious look as your lips lift into a smile.

Blood immediately rushes to his face and he feels his heart rate creeping up. He holds two fingers to his neck, measuring his pulse at the same time as his stomach flutters.

Could he be getting sick? Strange. He never gets sick.

Gun engages in stalkerish behaviour. That isn't news.

After all, you can't turn up at the perfect moment during fights, in the rain, without some preparation. Neither can you seek out potential successors without some planning. Legal or otherwise.

But all you have shown him is a sweet smile and like a man possessed, he has found himself in your neighbourhood for three days straight hoping to catch a glimpse of you again.

He reasoned that it's his instinct. Subconsciously he must have realised he could train you to be his prodigy-

And miraculously at that moment, you appear into view and trip over the sidewalk, catch yourself then trip once more on what looks like, Gun squints and confirms that it is indeed thin air, and slip backwards.

With anyone else, he would have dismissed his previous thoughts on seeing this, and left, disappointed and annoyed for wasting his own time. All coherent thought vanishes, however, as he rushes over to catch you from falling over.

You gasp as a strong arm snakes around you. Instead of hitting your head with a thud, you find a stranger peering down and holding you firmly.

"Oof, thanks." Gun is rewarded with a lopsided grin and he feels his ears burn.

He helps you upright and slowly unwraps his arm from around your waist with a little reluctance.

You brush yourself off, asking. "Have we met?"

Gun pauses, feeling full force the gut punch of that question to his ego. He is anything but forgettable.

"The other day in that store," he nods to the 711 a little way down the street.

"I thought I recognised you."

The ego is soothed.

Awkwardness creeps in as Gun thinks of something to prolong this moment, keep you around. Small talk that he usually hates though in this instance he would actually like to find out how you are doing, how your day is going, what your plans are. If you've eaten yet, are you hungry, what foods you like, did you want to grab something-

Amidst his own rambling thoughts - which is another first - you give him an easy out.

"I owe you one but I gotta go." You smile like you genuinely regret cutting this short and the odd fluttering in Gun's stomach starts again. "Can I have your number?"

"Stop that."

"What?"

Goo's face comes unbearably close and Gun considers headbutting him.

"Stop smiling. It's creepy." Goo backs away, likely having sensed Gun's violent musings, and pulls a face, muttering about how he didn't even know Gun could smile.

"Fuck you."

Someone somewhere has made up a nonsense rule about not appearing too eager by messaging too soon.

Luckily for Gun, he doesn't pay attention to such ridiculousness. He works his way through seven cigarettes as he thinks of what to text you.

In the end, he settles for-

Gun: Hey

Eagle-eyed, he watches over the next half hour as the message turns from unread to read and-

And nothing. No further reply. He frowns. He rereads his 'hey' and follows up with-

Gun: This is Gun Park.

Gun: How are you?

That instantly changes to read and your status moves to typing.

Y/N: Heeeey!

Y/N: This is a cute surprise

Y/N: Happy to hear from you and thanks again for saving me earlier

Y/N: what about you?

Gun: I'm fine thanks.

He watches to see any more messages come through. Again, it changes to read then nothing. He reads his three word response, which is perfectly adequate, but notes he has effectively closed the conversation.

With another frown settling on his face, he types out a further message.

Gun: Are you doing anything today?

Y/N: Nope super boring stuff. Running errands then nothing so lots of free time :) you?

Gun: No.

As Gun's repertoire of small talk dries up, he figures that this will do, it's a start. It's not perfect though he's left satisfied enough. Just as he's about to click his screen off-

Y/N: Fancy grabbing a coffee? On me :)

Gun's fingers move in a blur:

Gun: Ok. Tomorrow.

Y/N: Deal. It's a date!

If Gun was anyone else, he would be kicking his feet and giggling. But he's not.

He simply closes his eyes and exhales as a smile tugs at his lips.

What he does notice, is that this is the same feeling as a good, hard, vicious training session; like pushing his body past its limit to get stronger and better.

A wave of dopamine and euphoria crashes down.

#forever team soft awkward gun!!#i am also sooo not up to date with the manhwa #lookism #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #wannaeatramyeon

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hyunniesgirl · 2 years ago

Text

I wanna be yours

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader

Summary: it was all a game to him, until all he could think about was you. He wanted to have all of you. Ruin all of you. Love all of you.

Or, the one where Chan is a cocky asshole who's going out with you just for fun and ends up falling in love.

Slightly inspired in the movie 10 things I hate about you.

Genres: angst, smut, fluff

Words count: 10,991

Masterlist

This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!

Warnings: Corruption kink(kinda), dry humping, fingering, blowjob, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, pet names(princess, baby), Chan is cocky as fuck(and I'm here for it, stan cocky Bangchan), reader gets kinda insecure close to the end(let me know if I missed something)

A/N: should I be answering my requests or updating my series? Yes, did I spend too much time in a super long self indulgent oneshot? I did. It was supposed to be just smut with corruption kink 😭 turns out I can't write the porn without the plot.

It all started as a game for him. He just didn't guess how much you would mess with his head.

Bang Chan doesn't care much about college, with a promising career in music, he's just attending classes so his parents won't nag him too much.

That means he's bored all the time.

So when Jeongin, his youngest friend, begged him to win his girlfriend's sister over and date her for a bit, he almost accepted right away, yearning for some fun. But he didn't, not before knowing who you were.

That's how he ended up here, trying to find you in the middle of communication class. He didn't need to look too much, from Jeongin’s description, he could find you in the blink of an eye.

“A pretty girl, probably wearing black or some neutral color and she'll probably be in a corner. She's very shy, when you speak to her don't be too straightforward, you may scare her”

The way Jeongin described you didn't show any ill intent and he was always a good guy, that's why Chan considered accepting his offer in the first place. He must have his reasons for almost kneeling in front of his friend, asking for him to date you.

Chan sits behind you, observing every movement you make. You're indeed pretty and you really are shy. He notices how you want to raise your hand every time the professor asks a question, but you always hesitate and someone speaks over you. Every time you try to speak, some rude person cuts you and instead of getting mad, your face turns red and you shrink in your seat, trying to make yourself even more invisible.

There's something about you, Chan can't tell what it is, but it's something amusing about how you behave. Someone like you could have every guy in this university wrapped around your little finger and every girl wanting to be your friend.

As soon as the class ends, Chan sends a text to Jeongin, telling him he will do it. He doesn't waste time, waiting for everyone to get out of the classroom while you're still collecting your things.

“Hey”, he says out of nowhere, making you jump and look at him with huge doe eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you”.

He kinda did want that, though, curious to see how you would react, he thought maybe you would raise your voice and curse him, but you reacted as calmly as possible.

“It's okay”, you mumble.

You keep organizing your things, trying to ignore his presence.

“So, I wanted to ask if you can let me borrow your notes”, he asks, making puppy eyes.

You turn back to him and Chan can almost see the gears turning inside your head.

“Why does he want my notes if he just attended the same class?” It's written all over your face.

“I pulled an all nighter studying for another class and kind of dozed off earlier”, he lies, smiling sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him for a bit, pondering if you should say yes, actually, let's be real: can you even say no?

This is Bang Chan, handsome and popular, everyone knows him and the other two guys from 3racha. The last you heard, he didn't care much about classes since he's already progressing in his music career so you still don't understand why he wants to borrow your notes.

“Yeah, okay”, you nod, deciding to agree so this conversation can be over soon. You pull your notebook out of your bag and hand it to him. “Just make sure to give it back by next class”

“Sure, thanks”, he gives you a big bright smile that makes you gulp while staring at him, just a few minutes in his presence and you already know something very important: this man is dangerous.

You look around awkwardly, not knowing what Chan wants more. He's just standing there, staring at you.

“I'll get going then”, you sigh, feeling exhausted by this whole interaction.

You turn around, walking to the door, leaving Chan there, dumbstruck. Jeongin was right, you have no social skills, but you're much more entertaining than he made you out to be.

—

You're having lunch with Yuna, your sister, and Jeongin, her boyfriend, in the cafeteria. You like spending time with them, they are probably the only people you feel comfortable around in this university.

You met Jeongin three months ago. Your sister came home giggling like a child on Christmas, sat on your bed and told you she got a boyfriend.

You ran to your door, closing it after checking that your parents weren't around. There's only one rule in the house: your younger sister must not date before you do.

Your parents are not conservative or anything like that, they just had you two later than other parents, so they are very overprotective. You don't know exactly the reason why they set this rule, maybe it's because they are sure you're never going to date.

Yuna is your best friend, she was a sickly child so all those interactions and fights that normal sisters have, you didn't. You spent most of her childhood and a huge part of yours by her side in the hospital. Fortunately, she was able to go back to a normal life by the time she was becoming a teenager, she was always a social butterfly even in the hospital everyone loved her.

You always thought it was unfair that she had to wait to have a boyfriend simply because you are not interesting enough or can't even hold a conversation properly without stuttering, but there was nothing you could do about it. You even tried arguing with your parents about it but it always ended with them telling you to forget about it.

You see Jeongin waving to someone, something is off, they never invite anyone to eat with them. A tray is settled by your side and you look at the person who sits in the seat next to yours: Bang Chan.

“Hello again”, he smiles at you, a handsome smile with dimples showing and everything. He greets the others after.

You look at Yuna and Jeongin, she is frowning just like you and her boyfriend is eating like this is an ordinary situation in your daily lunch.

“Hi”, you sister answers, “I don't think we met before”

“Oh, yeah, I'm Bang Chan!” He stretches his hand so she can shake it. “Jeongin is an old friend and I have communication class with y/n”

“Ah”, she nods, looking at her boyfriend. You stay in silence, playing with your food, waiting for Jeongin to send Bang Chan away.

“Babe, I forgot I have a project due tonight”, Jeongin says, slapping the palm of his hand on his forehead. He stands up, “can you help me? Chan will keep y/n company.”

No. You don't want him to keep you company. Your eyes widen and you stare at your sister, trying to send her a mental signal so she won't let you alone with him.

What you don't see, it's that she has already caught up on the way Bang Chan is looking at you and she might think she understands what's happening.

“Okay, yeah. Take care of her”, your sister says, smiling apologetically to you while she gets up and follows Jeongin out of your sight.

You should just throw your food away and go to the library, maybe you can eat a sandwich.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You hear Bang Chan's voice before you can put your plan into practice, turning around to look at him with the most terrified face he ever saw on someone. “Ouch, does the idea scare you so much?” He jokes.

“Why would you want to go on a date with me? We just met yesterday”, you point out, holding yourself back so you won't just stand up and run away.

“I find you interesting, it's just a date so we can get to know each other better”, he shrugs. He's so nonchalant about it, while you're freaking out inside.

“I don't think that's a good idea, I'm not good at keeping conversations, you'll get bored”, you say frantically. You just didn't expect him to laugh.

“I can do all the talking, I love to talk"

Chan knows this move is risky and there's a high probability you won't accept, but he just felt like asking you at that moment.

“Are you sure you won't get bored?” You ask.

His eyes widen and he nods, are you really considering it?

You are, obviously. You bet no one could ever guess, but Bang Chan is your ideal type, actually he is probably everyone's ideal type.

He has the kindest smile you have ever seen and the way his eyes turn into crescents when he's smiling makes your legs weak. He met you yesterday, but you know him since 3racha performed in the university’s festival last year. Since the first time you two crossed paths, everything about him, appearance wise, seemed appealing: his dark eyes, his smile, his dark curls, his broad shoulders and his muscular body. That's why you freaked out so much when he spoke to you yesterday, you never thought he would give you the time of day. So you would be dumb to reject his offer.

“Okay”, you nod, handing your phone to him. “You can put your number there, I'll text you so you can save my contact”, you say and he stares at the device for a few moments before picking it up and typing his number.

This was easier than he thought.

—

“Do you have pepper spray with you?” Your mother asks for the 30th time in the last hour.

“Yes, mom. I'm going on a date with another student, he's not a criminal”, you tell her and your father tsks.

“There are alot of students that commit crimes”, he says.

“I know”, you sigh, “don't worry, I have pepper spray, emergency numbers and I'll turn on my localization”

Your sister is watching the scene unfolding in front of her, while she chuckles.

“You shouldn't laugh, if I start dating you will go through the same thing when it's your time”, you whisper at her and she sighs.

“You're not going to this date just so I can officially date Jeongin, right?”

You grin.

“You think too highly of me, I'm not that selfless”, you hear the sound of a horn in front of your house, “I'm going on this date because he's hot”

Chan thought you were pretty in your everyday clothes but after seeing you ready for your date he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You're wearing a little sundress with thin straps holding your much too generous and low cleavage. Your hair is down and your lips are red with lipstick.

He's waiting for you outside of the car so he can open the door for you, but when you stop in front of him, he just doesn't move.

You frown, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Are you okay?” You ask and he snaps out of his daze.

“Yeah, you're just too pretty”, he tells you honestly, “I just couldn't believe I'm so lucky”

You feel your skin hotter, you're sure your whole face must be red like a tomato.

The restaurant you are going to have dinner at is a bit further than you thought, it takes at least one hour by car to get there.

“Were all the places close to the city closed?” You try making a joke and he smiles.

“Considering your personality, I thought you would like this place better”, he tells you while you go in. A person greets you two, leading you inside. There's no open space, the building is full of rooms and you're guided to one of those. There's a glass wall in the back of the room with a view to a lake and a waterfall, there's colorful lights everywhere, making it even more beautiful.

“So, when I was searching for a nice place to go on a date, I came across this one.” Chan starts speaking and you notice there's a small stove on top of the table. “There's no attendants, so we will cook our own food and only call them if we want more servings”, he explains, pulling the chair so you can sit.

“Oh”, you feel a weird feeling on your stomach, are these the butterflies your sister told you about? You never knew something like this existed and the fact that he was attentive enough to take your shyness into consideration while choosing the place of your date makes you melt inside. “Thank you”, you tell him after sitting.

You don't shut up the whole night. This is the first time you feel so comfortable with someone other than your family.

“So, you want to work with entertainment?” He asks surprised.

“Yes, I really like the whole thing about managing an artist, it sound exciting”, you smile happily, “who knows, maybe one day I can manage 3racha”

“You have heard 3racha?” Chan asks, surprised.

“I really like your music”, you tell him, “besides, everyone knows about you guys”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you knew about us”, he smiles charmingly, leaning on the table while clasping his hands. “So does that win me some points? Maybe a kiss?”

You already are red because of the wine, now you feel your whole face hot. You're already feeling a bit out of it, not drunk enough to make a bad decision but definitely drunk enough to lose a bit of your shyness.

“I don't know how to kiss”, you say simply, no further explanation.

Chan almost chokes on the air he just breathed, he didn't think you would be so blunt about it. Curiously, he finds your innocent face while saying that too enticing.

“I can help you with that”, he says, tilting his head and winking.

“Would you really?” You ask and he nods. “Like now?”

Chan didn't expect that to happen so soon, especially with someone as shy as you. But he won't refuse your offer.

“Are you done?” He asks, eagerly, standing up and you nod. Chan stretches his hand to you, waiting for you to hold it.

He takes you to his car, helping you get in and fastening your seatbelt. He's not in his right mind, not at all, he didn't even drink so why is he so excited? He doesn't think he ever felt this way about a kiss. He drives for a while, looking for the drive in movie theater he had read about while looking for the restaurant.

After fifteen minutes he parks his car behind others, there are a lot of people there to watch the movie.

You have your hands on your lap, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. It's so endearing how innocent you are.

“Would you like to take a seat?” He asks and you frown, looking around and then looking at him. You are already seated.

He tilts his head, chuckling and patting his lap. You nod so fast, it's embarrassing. He smiles, seeing you climb on top of him, legs are over the cup holder, you're using him as a literal seat.

“You never kissed anyone?” He asks, while you adjust yourself on top of him, his breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps rise all over your body. You shake your head, feeling a bit insecure, what if you are no good?

Chan bites on his lower lip, shifting a bit so you won't feel his hardening cock under you, you're just too cute, too sexy.

“Okay, I'll go slowly, we can stop anytime you want”, he tells you, brushing his hand on your arm all the way to your neck, making you close your eyes to his touch. He pulls your face closer, touching your lips with his, it's warm and soft, it feels like heaven.

He brings his other hand to your cheek, caressing. He pulls back a bit, just enough so he can speak.

“Open your mouth for me, baby”, he tells you and you obey instantly, feeling his lips back on yours. His tongue brushes against yours and you whine, lifting your hands to grab on his shoulders to steady yourself, causing your ass to rub on his cock. Chan groans, making you flinch, did you do something wrong?

He notices your hesitancy, so he slides his hand to your waist, squeezing you in reassurance.

“Are you sure you have never done this?” He asks playfully and you smile, shyly.

“Can- Can we do it again?” You whisper, making him chuckle. Dear god, would he be able to stop this with just kisses?

“Did you like kissing me, princess?” He teases, seeing you blush. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. He lands a kiss on your exposed collarbone, tracing kisses up to your neck.

“You smell so good”, he tells you before leaving a kiss on your jaw, then on your chin and finally a peck on your lips.

“Must taste even better”, he thinks, smiling to himself.

Your phone starts ringing, taking you two out of that hazy atmosphere. You feel embarrassed now, not believing you actually acted that way. Going back to your seat, you pick up the call, it's Yuna.

“Mom and dad are freaking out because you stopped moving for too long”, she whispers. Shit, you forgot your localization was turned.

“Tell them you called Chan and I'm alright, my phone just died”, you instruct her.

“Yeah, got it, just hurry”

Chan probably heard the conversation, but you still feel upset that he started the car right away and drove fast back to your home.

When you arrive in front of your house, you're not sure if you should kiss him goodnight or just wave, both are awkward options for you, so you go with the one you want the most.

You grab his arm and pull him closer to you, kissing him on the lips. Chan is quite surprised with your bold action, but he won't complain, he can't get enough of your lips.

“I will text you when I get home”, he says after pulling away and you nod.

You get out of the car and walk to your door, stealing glances at Chan. He's giggling at your antics, watching until you are safe inside your house.

He should be thankful to Jeongin, he's finally having a good time.

—

Chan is taking his mission seriously, he's texting you everyday and even stopped seeing all his fuck buddies. This is the closest he ever got to a relationship, but you're not official yet.

Especially not when you're avoiding him like the plague when it comes to meeting face to face. You answer his texts normally but he has to literally hunt you down so he can find you in this damn university and if you see him before he sees you, it's game over, you'll hide immediately and he has to begin his search all over again.

This time, though, he caught you off guard. You are at the library, seated alone, trying to focus on the book you have in your hands.

He smiles to himself, knowing you can't escape anymore. Chan leans over, caging your body with his two hands around you, gripping the table.

“I missed you, baby”, he whispers and you shiver, feeling butterflies on your stomach.

“H-hi”, you say, closing your book and taking a deep breath.

You will not try and pretend you didn't hide from him for almost a week. But that's not your fault, it's your brain's.

After Chan left you home, you ran to your room, still feeling all tingly and hot from kissing him. Since Yuna didn't come to your room you guessed she was already asleep, so you took your makeup off, took a long bath and snuggled in your nice sheets.

The thing is: you had the most lewd, filthy, awfully good dream that night. You could never even say the things Chan did to you in that dream out loud.

You woke up sweaty, heavy breathing and panties soaked, this never happened to you before.

You just couldn't look at his face after that, you felt dirty and guilty with having those thoughts about such a nice guy.

“Am I wrong or were you avoiding me?” He asks, not moving from behind you.

“No- I wasn't”, you turn around to look at him, bumping into his face too close from yours. He glances at your lips, biting his lower one and chuckles. “I was just, hm, kinda embarrassed”, you tell him, aware that he's going to know right away if you try lying.

“Embarrassed about what?” He asks, tilting his head.

“I don't know”, you look away, trying not to give in and tell him about your dream.

“I think you should come to my place so we can talk about it”, he says and you choke on your own spit, struggling to function correctly. Did he just ask you to go to his house? Just you? And him? Just the two of you?

The apartment is not far from the campus, it's a maximum twenty minutes walk. The building is nice and modern, it absolutely matches what you had imagined Chan’s place would look like.

His apartment is huge, it's not possible that he lives there alone.

“I have three roommates, Jisung and Changbin you already know and Hyunjin, he's an arts major”

“Hwang Hyunjin? I know him, he's friends with my sister”, Chan nods, he forgot your sister dates Jeongin, she probably knows his entire group of friends.

“Do you want to drink something?” He asks, looking at you while you walk around the living room, looking at every corner but not at him.

“Water is fine”, you say, looking at some pictures he has with his friends. He always has that breathtaking smile that makes all your insides turn around.

“What about watching a movie?” He asks out of nowhere, sitting on the sofa. He looks at you, an arm resting on the back of the sofa.

“Sure”, you walk to him, sitting on the far corner. Chan has to bite back a laugh so you won't feel embarrassed, do you really think it's so easy for you to get away from him?

He turns on the movie, adjusting himself on his seat. You're really trying to pay attention to what's going on on the screen, but you just can't. Not when Chan's scent is all over the place, making you remember about your dirty dream.

He knows you're restless, he can see you fidgeting by his peripheral vision.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks, turning his head towards you, with a smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe you can sit here again, I'm sure you are going to like it better”, he pats on his lap.

You feel your face red.

“Stop teasing”, you mumble, pouting, “that's not nice”

He chuckles. If you're not coming to him, he has no problem going to you, so Chan slides his body closer, making you stare at him with a frown.

He raises his hand to your face, cupping it and caressing your cheek.

“Tell me you don't want this, princess, I'll stop”, he says. But you want this more than anything in the world, how could you not?

You lean a bit, trying to close the gap between your mouths. Oh, how much Chan missed your soft lips, he felt almost like going through a withdrawal staying so long without kissing you.

You learn fast, your mouth opens right away after your lips touch. In a bold move, your tongue is the one to look for his first, making him groan. He puts his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it harder than he predicted, but he didn't predict the bite you would give on his lip at that exact moment.

Chan grabs your hip, pulling you up to his lap, this time with a leg on each side of him. You're looking at him in that innocent way when all he has on his mind are the dirtiest thoughts. He caresses your thigh, sliding his hand to grab your ass and pulling you closer to him.

“Will you tell me now, why you were embarrassed? You looked pretty fine when I left you home after our date”, he asks and you blush instantly, oh, you forgot about the reason you are here. You can't tell him about your dream, you'll die of embarrassment if you do.

“It was- nothing”, you lie, avoiding his eyes. Chan noticed this already, you always look anywhere but him when you are lying to him.

Maybe he'll have to make you tell the truth.

“Really?” He says, skeptical. “Then you were just being mean? Playing with my feelings after just one date?” He's teasing, he knows you'll give in eventually, it's just a question of time.

“No, I wasn't”, you argue, with a frown on your face, your lips shut tight in a pout.

“Baby”, he calls, your legs would definitely give out if he called you like that while you were standing. “I don't like liars”

Chan slides his hands up to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling you closer. You can already feel something hard beneath you, making you shift and adjust on his lap, involuntarily seeking some friction. Your core is aching, just by staying so close to him.

“I'm not lying, that's mean”, you try changing the subject and he chuckles.

Chan comes closer, lips brushing against yours, his breathing hitting on your mouth, everything just making the wet spot on your panties grow bigger and bigger. He kisses you, a nice and soft kiss with his tongue caressing yours gently.

Chan notices that you're moving your hips slightly, trying to feel his cock. He smiles during the kiss, pulling away while putting his hands on your hips, guiding your movements to be harder.

“Hm”, you whine, feeling his hard on giving you the friction you're looking for. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer into a kiss again.

You never felt this way, like ever. You did masturbate but it's different to do it with another person. It's just so good to feel Chan's touch on your skin, his breathing, his muscular arms holding you. You feel your orgasm coming, you can't believe you're going to cum by just rubbing yourself on this man.

Chan knows you're almost there, that's when he grabs your hips steadying you, not letting you move further. He earns a whine from you, an angry look on your face.

“I will only let you keep going if you tell me why you were embarrassed and avoided me”, he says cockyly and you shake your head, trying to move again but his grip on your hips is too strong.

“I don't wanna”, you tell him.

“Then, I guess you won't be cumming today”, he shrugs. “At least, not with me”, he smirks to your face becoming even redder.

“You're such a meanie”, you whine, pouting, still trying to move again but he just won't let you.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” He tilts his head.

You ponder for a moment, what should you do? It's not going to end here, if you don't tell him right now, you're sure he won't let it go.

“I- I had a dream”, you start, trying to gather some courage.

“Uhm”, he nods, “what about it?” He asks curiously, feeling strangely aroused by the way you're looking around, lips pulled into a line and the way you're speaking leads him to believe you're talking about a wet dream.

“Li- like one of those dreams”, so he was right, did you have a wet dream about him? That's interesting.

“Hm, you'll have to be more specific, princess”, he pushes, “I don't think I know what you're talking about”

“I mean”, you groan, dropping your head to his shoulder so you won't feel his eyes on you. “A sex dream… with you”, you whisper.

The grin on Chan's face after you finish saying that, is priceless. He can feel his cock twitching, he's eager to know more.

“Tell me more about it”, he presses, “I really wanna know what happened in that dream that left you so embarrassed”

“Please, Chan. Don't make me say it”, you beg, but he's not having it. He likes seeing you blushing and struggling to talk dirty, it's endearing.

“No can do”, he grabs your shoulder to pull you away so he can look at your face. “I promise I'll give a nice reward if you tell me”

You nod. If he won't drop it, then you have to try and earn something over your embarrassing situation.

“I- like- you ate me out”, you start and he smiles, he would indeed love to do that. “And I s-sucked you off, it was nice”, you stumble over your words in each sentence. Chan can only feel even more turned on, your lips are so soft, he can't even picture what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him.

“Keep going, princess. You're doing great”, he reassures you. Chan loosens the grip on your hips, guiding your movements back and forth once again.

“And you said all these dirty things to me, I can't say it out loud, please”, he smirks, pulling you even closer and pressing your covered core against his cock.

“Did I tell you how good it felt to have your pretty little mouth sucking on my cock?” He asks playfully and you nod, feeling the warmth creeping in your face again while that tingly sensation grows bigger in your lower stomach.

“Did we fuck?” He asks, feeling himself getting closer to cum too.

“Yeah”, you nod frantically with your eyes closed shut. “You fucked me on all fours and in this same position too”, you tell him.

“Oh? Did you ride me? Did you like it?”

“I did”, you struggle to make your voice come out, feeling too light headed to even speak properly.

“There's something more, right, baby?” He feels his cock throbbing, he's almost at his limit.

“Yes, you- you choked me a bit, I liked that”, and that sentence was enough to make Chan reach his orgasm, being followed by you right after.

He can't believe he really did cum in his pants, like a fucking teenager. It's your fault actually, how can someone make him cum like this and still look angelic and innocent? Like you never told him he choked you and you liked it, even though it was a dream.

Chan kisses you eagerly this time, his chest is feeling hot and he feels a weird sensation on his stomach.

“You shouldn't feel embarrassed about this kind of thing”, he tells you and you nod, because it's true, “if it makes you feel better, I'm sure I had worse thoughts about you”, he smiles, seeing you blush.

“Like what?” You ask, curiously.

“Oh, I won't tell you”, he shakes his head, “you would never look at me again if you knew all the dirty things I wanna do to you”

—

Another week went by and now you were not avoiding Chan anymore. He follows you around pretty much all day at school, stealing kisses and pulling you to empty classrooms to have make out sessions.

It's time for him to meet your parents, it's not something he ever did, he never dated anyone after all. It's a Wednesday night, he brought flowers and a bottle of wine. So five minutes before the set time, he's knocking at your door.

Your sister opens up, greeting him but you're nowhere to be found until he hears your voice from upstairs.

“Is he already here?” You sound panicked and your sister giggles.

“Yes! Hurry up”, she says and Chan hears something falling and making a weird noise. It was not loud enough to be a person so he's not worried you fell, but he finds it funny to think about you nervously stumbling around.

When you show up at the top of the stairs, he has to blink a few times to actually believe you're real. You look so beautiful, showing your nice legs in a short skirt and your shoulders in a tank top.

“Hey”, you greet him, looking at the things he has in hands and he finally regains his composure.

“Hi”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “this is for you” he hands you a bouquet of red camellias.

You stop for a second, you never received flowers. Before you can answer him, your father's head is popping out of the living room.

“Why is it taking so long for you to bring this guy inside?”, he asks grumpy, he's not too happy about you dating but there's nothing he can do about it.

Chan straightens himself, walking to your father to greet him.

“Good night, sir. I'm Bang Chan”, he clears his throat when your father doesn't say a thing, just staring at him. “I brought this for you”, he shows the wine bottle and your father takes it.

“At least you have good taste”, he nods to the wine bottle Chan stole from his father's collection.

He turns around, shrugging to you and you smile, listening to your sister's chuckles. You take his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers.

In the living room there's a woman that looks too much like you and your sister to not be your mother, she smiles kindly at you two.

She's less intimidating than your father so Chan's greetings to her are less awkward this time. As time goes by, your parents warm up to him, making jokes and even telling him about your childhood.

“The night went great”, you say while walking Chan to his car. “Thank you for coming”

“Your parents are great”, he says, leaning on the door of his car. He takes your hands in his and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you for inviting me”

He looks so good tonight, his dark hair is carefully styled and he's wearing much more formal clothes than usual, making him look like a prince.

“Can I have a good night’s kiss?” He asks, slyly, seeing you eyeing him up. You nod, putting your hands on his chest and closing the gap between your mouths. Chan's hands slide from your waist to your ass, squeezing slightly, he can't get too into it since he won't be able to go further than a kiss tonight.

You pull away from him when you have to breathe, his lips are so inviting you could kiss him all night long.

“I will see you tomorrow”, he tells you.

There's something wrong with his heart, it's beating so fast he thinks he may be dying. After driving away from you, he calms himself a bit. It's not possible that you were the cause of that reaction, right? This is supposed to be fun, he only has to date you for a while and then break up, no strings attached. So why does he feel such hurt in his chest after thinking about leaving you?

After one more long and sleepless night Chan realized something: he is in love. This feeling snuck in so unexpectedly he didn't even notice he was falling in love. Chan never fell in love before, so he can only guess that this is how it feels to love someone.

He notices every little detail about you, he jokes around all the time waiting to hear you laugh about something he says. Chan likes the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you just look at him so focused while he is speaking. He is in love with your personality, your cleverness, your kindness, your beauty is just a bonus that makes him even more in love with you.

He wants to confess to you, ask you to be his girlfriend, to never leave him.

He even asked for your sister's help to make something for you, maybe a song, he can definitely make something beautiful and romantic for you. Maybe he can cook too, he wants to make you feel appreciated.

He's waiting for your class to finish, seated on the bench in front of the classroom while scrolling through his phone.

He feels someone sitting by his side and before he can look, a kiss lands onto his cheek. Chan puts his hand on his face, blushing and you laugh seeing his reaction. You two did much more than just a kiss on the cheek, why is he embarrassed about it?

“Did you miss me?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“Of course I did”, he grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. “Should we go to my place?” He asks and you nod, standing up, pulling him to get up too.

It's still a bit weird that you two are together, you never thought liking someone as much as you like Chan could actually happen to you, you could even say you're in love. The only thing that still makes you doubtful is the fact that he didn't ask you to be his girlfriend yet, you have been going out for a month and you do everything together, so why hasn't he made it official?

You still have many questions in your mind, sitting on Chan's bed while he makes popcorn and you choose the movie you're watching tonight.

He enters the room, closing the door and turning off the lights, two water bottles and a huge bowl in his hands.

“What movie did you choose?” He asks, but you can't hear it, your mind is too loud. “Y/N? Are you alright?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Are we exclusive?” You ask out of nowhere, ripping the air out of his lungs.

“Yes”, he says firmly, “do you want to be with other people?”

Chan asked that, but he's holding his breath until you answer him, hoping you're going to deny. For a moment, you don't say a thing and seeing you hesitate makes his heart ache.

“No, I-” you try speaking, trying not to sound ridiculous, “I want to be exclusive, I just don't know if you want that”

Chan takes a deep breath, putting the things he has in hands on the nightstand.

“Of course, I want to”, he takes your hand into his, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss the palm. He's feeling guilty, he's taking his time preparing a nice confession but you're feeling insecure. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't want things to get more serious”, he climbs on the bed, getting closer to you, “let me show you that you're the only one I want, hum? Can I?”

You suck on your teeth, knowing exactly what is about to happen but you just can't say no to him, let's be real, you don't want to say no to him. So you nod, making him smile.

Chan is eager to have you, he has been for weeks, just waiting for you to be ready to give yourself to him. He cups your face, pulling you closer and kissing you.

He helps you lay down on the bed, towering over you while landing kisses down your neck. You feel him biting on your shoulder and he brings his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. His hands travel around your body, making you hotter.

“You're so pretty, princess”, he says, kissing your chest. You whine, he's taking too much time to get to the place you want the most.

“Channie”, you whisper, “please, touch me”, you ask him.

His smile grows bigger as he mumbles “your wish is my command”. Chan unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing it someplace in the room.

He slides his hand down to your core, your underwear is soaked. He pulls your panties down your legs and brushes a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness before inserting a finger inside, you arch your back to the feeling. It's delicious, but it hurts a bit. It's different from how it feels doing it alone.

“Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. “You're such a good girl, baby, all wet and ready for me.” He whispers, getting closer to your face again. I'm going to put another one”, he tells you. The sensation it's too much already, his fingers are too much.

“Chan”, you moan, “I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that”

“Oh? But I didn't even get to the better part”, he answers pressing his thumb on your clit, making circles.

“Fuck”, you whine.

His smirk grows while he keeps the movement of back and forth inside of you. Before he can tease you more, your legs are shaking and your tight hole is clenching around his fingers. You put your hand on your mouth, covering it so you won't make a loud sound, but he doesn't like that. He wants to hear how well he's fucking you.

“Let's not do that, okay? I want you to be loud, want to hear you scream my name” He says, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them on his mouth. He comes closer, kissing your neck and face, helping you calm down after your orgasm.

Goosebumps rise all over your body, his kisses feel like fire on your skin, you thought you'd feel less horny after cumming, but you're still so turned on.

Chan kisses your chest, opening your bra. You feel embarrassed when he sees you completely naked.

“You're still dressed”, you point out, face red.

He gets out of the bed immediately, taking his shirt off and his pants too, crawling back to you in only his underwear. His cock is hard, outlined by the thin fabric of his boxers.

You feel the urge to touch him, maybe taste it. So you grab his length, making him groan.

“What are you doing, princess?” He asks, eyes closed from the pleasure of having your beautiful hands wrapped around him.

“I want to make you feel good”, you tell him, pushing his chest and making him fall on his back on the bed. You kiss his neck the same as he was doing to you, suddenly feeling possessive and sucking on the skin, leaving a few hickeys there.

You go down, kissing his chest and stomach, getting closer and closer to his throbbing cock. You pull his underwear down and his cock spring on your face.

“I just- you need to teach me”, you tell him. How can you look at him with such innocence in your eyes when you're about to suck him off?

“Hold the base”, he instructs, “now you can go up and down with your hand.”

He feels your movements, making him groan. You are bolder than he gives you credit for, since you lick the head of his cock without being told to. You wrap his dick with your mouth, waiting for the next command.

“You can go up and down, princess, yes, like that” he moans, feeling his cock being embraced by your warm mouth.

Chan feels like exploding any time now, weeks of pent-up sexual tension being released. He sees you rubbing yourself on his bed while sucking on him, that just makes him crazier, he wants to make you feel good now, he can let you do the same for him another time.

“Baby”, you hear him say and you stop your movements. “I won't be able to last long with your soft mouth doing that, I need to feel you around my cock”

You nod, letting go of his cock and climbing up, stopping on top of Chan.

“I wanna be on top”, you say confidently.

“Let's do it slowly okay? I don't want to hurt you”, Chan tells you and you agree.

He grabs the base of his cock, brushing the head on your folds, trying to wet it enough to make it easier for you.

It feels like heaven when his cock finally slides inside of you, you're so tight he feels like he can cum at any moment.

Chan sees the pain in your eyes, he doesn't move, “do you want to stop?” He asks worriedly, putting his hands on your hips to stop you from moving but you shake your head.

You keep pushing it in, trying to relax. Chan kisses you, massaging your breasts to help you relax a bit.

When the painful part is gone and you're feeling all the good sensations back, you don't think you can stop, it's too addictive. You start riding on him freely, hands taking support on his chest and head thrown back, the pleasure is just too much, you'll be coming soon.

“Fuck, you look so good riding me, princess”, he says, feeling his own high almost catching him.

“Oh, Channie, I'm gonna cum”, you whine, fastening the movements of your hips, “please, oh, your cock feels so good”

For someone who couldn't talk about a wet dream a few weeks ago you sure talk dirty in real life, Chan chuckles, feeling you clenching around him and when you squeeze his cock for the last time he cums too, filling you up.

You collapse on top of him, breathing heavily. Your eyes are heavy, you're not sure if you can stay awake. Chan caresses your back and plays with your hair, making you fall fast asleep.

You wake up feeling just a bit sore. You're on cloud nine, the night was amazing. When you open your eyes, there's no one in the bed with you. You wrap yourself in the blankets trying to find and collect all your clothes scattered around the room.

The delicious smell that embraces your nose the moment you step out of the room, is enough to make you drool.

Chan is in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but sweatpants and an apron. That's right, he's shirtless. You're feeling bold today, so you get closer to him wrapping your arms around his waist in a back hug.

He lets out a laugh, putting his hand over yours and turning off the stove. He turns around, hugging you.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, kissing your forehead and you nod, snuggling in his embrace.

“Why didn't you wake me earlier? I woke up missing you”

“Ow, my baby is so needy”, he teases, making you pout. “I was making you, breakfast”

“Hm”, you look at what he was cooking.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, a bit worried, it was your first time after all.

“I'm doing great”, you smile, “just a bit sore, but it's nothing”

He nods, putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you around.

“I'm happy to hear that”, he kisses the top of your head, guiding you to take a seat on the table. “Let's eat so we can go for another round then”, he smirks.

—

“Jeongin is coming here today?” You ask your sister and she nods frantically while fixing her hair.

“He's coming to ask dad's permission to date me”, she giggles excitedly.

“Alright”, you smile seeing your sister so happy.

You're the one opening the door for Jeongin while your sister is getting ready, he's clearly nervous but he's trying to keep his smile.

“Hey!” You give space for him to enter, “Yuna is almost done”

He nods, looking around. Your sister comes down minutes later, leading Jeongin to the living room.

Your father is less hostile to him than he was to Chan, maybe it's because Jeongin is adorable.

After an hour of conversation, you go upstairs, you have a date tonight and need to get ready.

The memories from your night with Chan flood your mind making you giggle and kick your feet, they have been your most cherished thoughts lately. It's a struggle but you finally end your bath after probably an hour.

You walk back to your room, you're already late. However, you stop in front of your sister's room when you hear voices being a little bit too loud.

“You did what, Jeongin?” your sister's voice is a pitch higher than usual.

“I didn't think things would get out of hand”, Jeongin answers, are they fighting?

“In what world did you think that was a good idea?”

“I was desperate, I'm not proud of that”, he answers back.

“There's no excuse for you to ask Bangchan to date my sister”, she tries speaking lower but you still can hear them. Your whole world crumbles with that one sentence, what does she mean by that?

“I didn't do it to be mean, I know how hard it is for your sister to get to meet new people, I thought it would benefit the both of us”, he tries explaining. Your heart is beating too fast, the throbbing in your ears grows stronger and your legs are giving out.

“How am I supposed to tell her now? She is so happy” Yuna cries out. “Don't come any closer, get out of here”, you panic instantly, they can't see you there. But you're too slow, when you finally manage to move Jeongin is swinging the door open. He stops on his tracks, turning white on the spot.

“Y/N-”, he tries to speak, but you run to your room before he can say anything else.

You can't believe this is actually happening to you, you thought that someone finally liked you but everything was a lie? That's not possible, right?

You are going to go to Chan, you two have a date, and he is going to tell you that Jeongin is lying, that he was just joking.

The uber to Chan's apartment doesn't seem to show up fast enough and the ride there couldn't be slower. You're restless, fidgeting with your fingers and shaking your legs.

You pay the man, practically running out of the car and running upstairs. The person who opens the door is not Chan but Changbin, you met him a few times when you were visiting the apartment.

“Hey, y/n”, Changbin greets you. “Chan is not home, but he will be here soon, I heard you have a date”, he says, letting you in.

“I'm going to wait for him in his room”, you tell him, too disturbed to worry about proper manners.

You walk back and forth in the room, anxiously waiting for Chan's arrival. You hear his voice after twenty minutes, he's talking to his friend in the living room when Changbin tells him you're there.

You can hear the fast footsteps leading to where you are, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Hey, baby”, Chan smiles at you, dropping his bag on the floor and walking towards you with open arms. “Did something happen?” He stops, noticing your face.

You stare at him for a minute, brows knit together and eyes trying to find the least bit of sincerity in the time you two spent together.

“Did you ask me out as a favor to Jeongin?” You ask and his standing falter, how did you find out?

“L-let me explain”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“So you did”, you feel the tears trying to escape from your eyes.

“Please, just… just hear what I have to say”, he asks, trying to hold your hand, but you pull away from him.

“I don't want to hear a thing from you”, you tell him, running your hands through your hair.

It really was all a lie. How could you be so dumb?

You walk past him, trying to get out of the room, go anywhere but there. But Chan grabs your arm, making you stop in your tracks.

“Please, don't leave”, he begs. You feel a pang in your chest, but it doesn't make a difference since you're already hurting too much.

“You have no right to ask me that”, you pull your arm out of his grasp and walk out of the apartment.

It would be too humiliating to enter the uber while bawling your eyes out, so you decide to walk. You walk for a long time before your feet start hurting and your eyes are burning from how much you cried. You can't believe you really let yourself fall pray to such a scheme, you thought you were smarter than that.

It's obvious you only fell for it because it's Chan, you were attracted to him since the first time you laid eyes on him. You try to believe that it wouldn't be that easy to trick you if it was anyone else.

After at least two hours, you finally reach your house and you're feeling utterly miserable. You greet your parents and walk upstairs, anxiously searching for your room so you can finally let yourself fall and cry as much as you can.

Your sister is seated on your bed, biting on her nails. She stands up as soon as she sees you.

“I'm really sorry”, she says, teary.

You sigh, feeling the weight on your chest even heavier.

“It's not your fault”, you tell her. You start to undress, looking for your pajamas so you can snuggle on your bed until all of this passes.

“I shouldn't have started dating before you”, she whines.

“I don't blame you, so stop doing that to yourself”, you say, even though you feel a bit of resentment because Jeongin likes her truly, he likes her because she's her. Of course no one's going to like you, you're… you.

“But”, she bites on her lower lip, not sure if she should say this, “I think Chan really likes you-”, she stops talking when you give her the meanest glare you ever threw in someone's way.

“I don't want to hear it”, you say.

“He even asked help so he could confess to you in a way you would like”, she continues.

“I'm not going to repeat myself”, you say and your sister knows that tone too well, it's better for her to stay silent for the time being. “If you're done, I would like to be alone”

Yuna nods, glancing at you all the way to the door.

You collapse on your bed, finally able to cry your eyes out without people looking at you in a weird way. This is the moment you realize how much you love Bang Chan, the pain you're feeling is greater than anything you ever felt in your whole life, you truly don't think you'll be able to survive this.

Chan is an idiot, he knows this and you are right to never look at his face again. But even though he knows you're right, he can't accept the thought of you leaving him.

He tried calling and texting you, you blocked him. He tried talking to your sister, she cursed him out and told him to leave you alone. She and Jeongin are on bad terms right now but they didn't break up yet.

He tried to find you in the university, but you didn't show up for the entire week, he just doesn't know what to do.

“You are an idiot”, Hyunjin says after listening to the whole story, “you should have told her about it while you still had time”

“I didn't know I was in love”, Chan runs his hands through his hair, “not until it was too late”

His friend sighs, he just can't see Chan like that anymore. He's just miserable, he looks like he's dying and Hyunjin doesn't doubt it could actually happen at this point.

So as a good friend, he takes this matter into his own hands and calls your sister, trying to convince her to listen to Chan and maybe forgive Jeongin too, Hyunjin is tired of him whining all day long.

“Did you really call me here for this?”, Yuna asks, ready to grab her things and go home.

“Hear me out, okay?” He says. “I know what they did was wrong but they regret it, Jeongin even told you about it”

She huffs, crossing her arms.

“He told me because I was talking about how Chan wanted to ask y/n to be his girlfriend”, she says. “He felt guilty, he would have never told me about it otherwise”

“Chan really likes y/n, he really wants to be with her”

Yuna sighs, she knows that. There was no way Chan could fake the way he looked at you.

“She's not going to believe that”, Yuna says, “y/n is heartbroken, she's not even going to her classes. She just stays in her room all day, crying’

“There's nothing better to fix her broken heart then”, Hyunjin points out, “let's help them meet, they can talk things out that way”

“She doesn't want to see him”, Yuna sighs, “but I do think this is the best solution”

“Okay, I'll text you the day and time, just bring y/n, Chan will take care of the rest”

Yuna nods, collecting her things but before she can stand up, Hyunjin's voice sounds again.

“About Jeongin-”, he starts, but she cuts him off right away.

“This whole mess started because of Jeongin”, she takes a deep breath, “after y/n and Chan resolve this matter I'll see what I'm going to do about him”

Yuna turns around, leaving Hyunjin there. At least he got Chan a chance, he can't save everyone.

Chan can't take it anymore, he has to see you. So he musters all the courage he has and goes to your house. It doesn't help that it's 2 a.m. so everyone is sleeping, except you it seems, since there's light coming from your room.

He begins throwing rocks at your window, trying to make you notice him and after a few tries he sees your face popping out.

Chan wishes he didn't come at all, your face is puffy so he knows you have been crying and the way you're looking at him, it's just awful, he feels despicable. More than he has felt all this time without you.

“What do you want?” You ask, at least you didn't ignore him.

“Can you come down for a bit?”

You sigh, you don't actually want to, but you're afraid he'll make too much noise trying to convince you to go down and wake up the neighbors or even worse, your parents.

You close the window, he knew it would be hard, that you wouldn't want to see him. Before he can turn around and walk away, Chan hears the sound of the front door opening.

You are in your pajamas, holding yourself trying to protect your body from the cold air.

You stop in your tracks, looking at him with an intense gaze, like you can read all his thoughts and know about all his mistakes.

“How have you been?” He asks and you scoff.

“Are you here to survey my mood? I have been feeling like shit, what about you?” He remembers the first time he talked to you, how he wished to see you mad, now he regrets that. He never wanted to see you mad at him.

“I'm not well either”, he says.

You sigh.

“Now that we know how each other is feeling, you can go”, you tell him.

“Can you let me explain?” He pleads.

“Did you start dating me as a favor for Jeongin?” You ask and he sighs, nodding. “That's all I need to know, I would appreciate it if you don't come looking for me anymore”, you say, turning around and going back inside. Tears start running down your face while you go back to your room, when will this pain subside?

—

You are finally back at school, after moping around all day at home for an entire week, you decided it was time to get back to your life. Staying at home just made you feel worse, you didn't have a thing to distract yourself so you ended up thinking about Chan the whole time. That only weakened your resolve to forget about him, you avoided coming to school because you knew you would give in if he tried to approach you.

Your day goes by fast enough and you just want to go home to lay on your bed. You feel your phone buzzing, it's a message from Jeongin. You were so angry with Chan that you forgot to block him.

He should be begging to meet Yuna, so why is he asking to meet you? Maybe he wants your help to fix things between them.

You don't know why you decided to meet him, maybe it's curiosity to know why he did such a thing to you or maybe you want to look at his face and curse at him.

He arrives at the cafe at the set time, looking around for you and walking towards you when his eyes lock with yours.

“Hey”, he says, sitting in front of you. You don't say anything back, not in the mood to be polite.

Jeongin sighs, he expected this much.

“I wanted to talk with you about this whole situation, believe me I didn't mean to hurt you even though it ended up happening in the end-”

“I considered you my friend”, you say making him stop talking.

“I- I'm”, he says, voice a pitch higher.

“Friends don't do what you did”, you say and he nods.

“I know it was an ill executed plan, but my intentions weren't bad, I swear”, he tells you.

“And do your intentions matter if I was the one hurt in the end?” You ask, angrier now.

“No”, he answers. “I'm truly sorry, I swear, I just caught you staring at Chan more than once. I thought this would be good for us both but I was clearly wrong”

You huff, exhausted. You start collecting your things to go home but you hear Jeongin's voice once more.

“Chan really likes you, he fell in love with you”, he says and your heart skips a beat, it shouldn't be behaving like this, not after the heartbreak you are going through.

“I don't care, he lost his chance”, you answer firmly, even though you know it's not true.

“Are you sure?” Jeongin asks, “are you sure you won't regret it? Not let him explain or not hearing him out?”

You glance at him once more, before standing up and walking out of the cafe.

Your mid terms are finally over, that means, you don't have anything to study so you're stuck with your thoughts. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's a message from Yuna, asking you to meet her in the arts department.

You reply, saying you'll be there in a moment. What is she even doing there? She's a business major.

The arts department is not far from yours, but it's emptier than you are used to. She asked you to meet in the first classroom of the second floor.

When you open the door, the first thing you see is Bang Chan. He looks awful, worse than you even.

You try going back, but he already saw you, so he stands up, coming closer.

“Don't leave, I'll do anything just… don't leave”

He's pale, and the eyebags he normally has are darker than usual.

“Are you sick?” You ask, worried. It's not like you can stop loving him in such a short period of time, of course you're worried.

“No”, he says, “I mean, I'm not feeling well, but I don't think I have an illness”

You nod, feeling awkward. It's been a while since you felt this way about him.

“Okay, then I'll get going”, you say trying to leave, but his voice stops you.

“I love you”, he is desperate, you can hear it in his voice. However, you're too petty.

“This was part of Jeongin’s plan too?”, you scoff, seeing his lips trembling.

He takes a deep breath, he deserves that, he knows he does.

“I really started going out with you because Jeongin asked”, he starts explaining, “but I fell in love with you, for real”

You feel your heart ache once more, he's about to cry, you can see it. But you're not sure if you can forgive him, even if what he's telling you is true.

“I don't believe you”, you say, shrugging, trying to hold your own tears.

“I will do anything to prove it to you, just say what I need to do for you to believe me”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“I'm not sure if I'll be able to forget this or even forgive you, Chan”, you sigh, letting your heart speak and not your anger.

“I know I messed up, I don't deserve you I know that too”, he grabs your hand, “but please, I'll prove to you that I deserve a second chance, I'll earn back your trust”, he pleads.

You sigh, even after all this, it seems you still can't say no to him.

“I'm going to need some time”, you say slowly, “but I will give you a second chance, you better not ruin it”, you say.

Chan can't believe you're really going to try and forgive him, he can't ask for anything more.

“I won't disappoint you this time, I promise”, he says, kissing the palm of your hand, the same way he did before.

“Let's see about that”, you sigh, feeling your heart beating fast once again.

You may be making a stupid choice, but you'll only learn by making mistakes. You just sure hope this is not one.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

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aninipanin1 · 4 months ago

Text

SPOILED

Notes: Since there has been no Sae moments as of all of my works, I decided to make one special for him lol

"Eh? What was it again, Sae-chan?" Girolan asked, very much confused and a little taken aback from the midfielder's question.

"What do girls usually like to receive as a gift?" The redhead repeated the question. At first, the manager thought he was just hearing things, that maybe the stress of his job finally caught unto his head and he started to somewhat hallucinate.

But no, what he heard was indeed right. THE Itoshi Sae is asking about girls? The man who is too focused on his career in football that he does not have many side hobbies other than the sport? The man who cursed the hell out of a model's management team when they asked him to fake date the said model just for fame and clicks?

That Itoshi Sae?

"Ah, well. It really depends on the girl, Sae-chan. Who are you talking about? Maybe I can help." He offered, but he knew deep down that it was not just for the sake of helping the player under his management, but also because he was a little curious as to who he was even planning to gift.

"Hm? I would say it's none of your business, but since I want to make sure she likes it, It's Y/n from Blue Lock." He said cooly, as he always does.

To be honest, he knew he was not supposed to be shocked at this revelation. Of course, it was her, the manager of the Blue Lock facility. Ever since the midfielder touched the soils of Japan and learned about the project, he became a bit interested at the manager.

It was out of respect than anything, respect and acknowledgement of her huge role in making sure the participants of the facility are on the right path to becoming the world's greatest striker.

Why would he not be impressed and interested? After all, he wants to see through how the facility will produce their version of the world's greatest striker and if that person is worthy of such an epithet and even his passes.

But, ever since the U20 match against the Blue Lock 11, he has been acting much more differently. This was an observation of Girolan more than Sae's own judgement of himself.

The manager heard that the midfielder got your number, and ever since then, you two would share calls and texts. Most of the time, talking about football and other things related to the sport. And ever since then, his screen time skyrocketed a bit, most of the time viewing his social media accounts or messaging app to see if you may have sent him another message in any of the said apps.

He also changed his diet that he strictly follows ever since he moved to Spain for a new and supposed better one. According to Sae, you recommended it to him and he has no way of not trusting your words.

Needless to say, Itoshi Sae absolutely puts his whole trust on you. And that was a miracle if the manager ever seen one.

"Hmm, does she post her hobbies on social media?"

"She does sometimes. She posts about her plushies and some lego stuff she makes."

"Then that's good! You can buy her some of those. I'm sure she'll appreciate it. Ms. Y/n seems to be a very kind and warm individual, so I'm sure she'll love anything you give her."

"I guess."

Deep inside, Girolan was absolutely ecstatic for Sae. He never expected to be giving advice over a girl with Sae. He has managed some other people before, but Sae was the one he felt a little sad about.

He was really young when he was thrust into the professional world in football, and it seems like this impacted him harshly both mentally and emotionally , and he can not even seem to love and trust people quite easily, even if they bend over backwards for him.

'They would look really cute together.'

"Wow, you really put so much thought on this, Sae-chan."

Girolan could not help but gawk at the large box that the midfielder was currently storing many things inside. From lego flower sets to adorable stationary items to different plushies, it felt like the man robbed the damn stores.

The redhead just shrugged at the comment, not even minding the tons of money he spent just for this. He does not even use his huge salary for himself, so why not just spend it on someone worth it?

"Hm, I should have bought more sticky notes. She really likes them."

'Wow...he's seriously this whipped?'

The brunette manager thought, never ever thinking that this version of Itoshi Sae even existed. He has always been a man who could not care less about money and material things, so to see him pour so much effort on a gift for a girl nonetheless, was quite the heart attack for those who knew him well.

The box was overflowing with trinkets and gifts, and Girolan could not help but wonder if Sae even remembered you lived in the Blue Lock facility and you probably have not much space for all these gifts But, he just let him be. After all, it was nice to see him care about someone like this for the first time in so long.

After sealing the box, he let the service driver take the box to ship to Japan, specifically to the Blue Lock Facility address where you would probably receive the package.

Meanwhile, days later in Japan inside the Blue Lock facility, you were more than shocked when Anri rolled in a large box inside of your office/room.

"What's this, Anri-san?"

Anri could not help the grin on her face. She read the address of where it came from and when she saw that it was from Madrid, Spain, there was only one person that went straight into her mind of who might this be from.

"A package for you, from Madrid!"

"Madrid...? Why would I have a pacakage from...oh."

Realization ran through your mind, remembering a rather confusing text Sae sent you about something coming your way from him. At first, you did not think much of it. But now that a huge box was in front of you, you could not help but feel overwhelmed and sheepish at the prospect of being sent so many things.

After Anri left you to your own devices, you decided to open the box. You felt overwhelmed by the size of the box? That earlier feeling would turn shy with the feeling you currently felt looking at what was inside the box.

There were enough plushies for you to make a small bed out of them, or enough lego sets for you to be occupied for a whole year and even enough stationary and art supplies to occupy your doodling and artistic habits. You did not know how the redhead midfielder knew about your love for these things, but to say that you were happy was an understatement.

But other than the feeling of gratefulness, you also felt embarrassed, especially seeing that most of the objects were branded, meaning they were far from cheap.

'I would probably have to sell my whole household just to buy all these...'

You cried out inwardly, but nonetheless, you are more than happy and grateful for all of Sae's gifts. Immediately, you set up the cute plushies around your office and even started to build the lego sets that turned out to be flowers.

You:

[Sent photo]

Thank you for all the gifts Sae-san :D

You didn't have to buy me so many things, and I was wondering what the occassion is?

Sae:

Nothing. Is there something wrong with giving gifts just because?

You:

Of course not. I was just really surprised T_T

Thank you so much for all of these Sae-san! I promise I'll gift you something very soon:DD

'Heh, cute...'

The midfielder could not help the slight smirk that appeared on his face, especially when he saw the cute emoticons you always added to your messages.

He wished he can visit you soon, but seeing as to how you were busy with Blue Lock and he, with training for the upcoming U-20 World Cup, it will probably be a struggle to find some sort of time to meet up with you back at Japan.

'Maybe we can meet up at the World Cup venue..? Hmm...'

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Rin eventually found out about the gift his elder brother gave you, needless to say, he was less than happy. So he went and texted said brother:

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

#aninipanin1 #blue lock #bllk #blue lock x manager!reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bluelockxreader #itoshi sae #sae x reader #itoshi rin #rin x reader

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theliving-radio · 3 months ago

Text

The Meaning of “Big Brother”

Part: 2

Warnings: none, more fluff, shenanigans happen again, Gender neutral, Big Brother Malleus calls you “Baby Sibling”

————————————————————————

Malleus continues to ask around the school on what it means to be a “Big Brother”. He would ask those who were the older sibling in their family for advice, and whatever they gave him, he wrote down in his notepad.

During his adventure, he ended up in Octavinelle to ask more students. Though, he suddenly paused when a thought crossed his mind.

Who was the oldest between the Leech twins?

“Oya~ you want to know who the eldest between me and Floyd?” Malleus was able to find Jade easily since he was working in the lounge.

“Correct. Lately I’ve been asking around the campus on the matter of the meaning behind ‘Big brother’. While being in Octavinelle, I thought about Floyd and you, curious on which one is the oldest.” Malleus was able to answer truthfully.

Jade wasn’t surprised by the fact that Malleus was in the Octavinelle dorm. He heard from a few students that the Fae was going around and asking certain people questions. When Azul caught word that Malleus Draconia was here, he ran out of his office and went to find him in hopes to create a contract with him.

Jade is more amused that a future king wished to come and ask him about family.

“I’ve heard from Floyd before in the past that he is neither the oldest of youngest between you two. So that makes me question if he’s telling the truth or is there more to it?” Jade hummed at Malleus questions, watching as the fae took out a notepad.

Well that’s interesting.

“Well, he is correct first of all.”

“Oh?”

Jade chuckles, “We are Mer-eels. Our mother laid about around 10,000 eggs. Of course most of the majority of those eggs were swept away by the ocean currents, or eaten by other predators. Floyd and I were the only to survive.”

“10,000? That is an incredible amount.”

“Indeed, as who is the eldest, well… we hatched at the same time.”

Jade… wasn’t fully telling the truth. Yes, Moray Eels can lay up to 10,000 eggs. But, he was speaking on behalf of his fish counterpart. Good Sevens! His poor mother birthing 10,000 eggs just sounds dreadful! Thankfully it was just him and Floyd. The part where they both hatched at the same time was not a lie however.

“If the birth was at the same time, along with the hatching… then there isn’t really a distinct eldest or youngest between the two.”

“Precisely.”

“Hm, that doesn’t really help me here… but I did find the fact interesting.”

Malleus closes his notepad and thanks Jade again for answering his question before walking out of Mostro Lounge. Jade waves as he watches the Fae walk away before turning back to his work behind the bar. A few minutes go by and Jade hears a huffing and puffing Azul, he looks up to see that the octopus looks like he’s about to kneel over.

“My my, have you been running around the dorm this whole time?”

“Jade! Haaaa… have you-,”

“Seen Draconia around? Why yes, I have. We talked for a bit and he asked me some interesting questions.”

Azul walks over to Jade behind the bar counter and grabs his shoulders. “And?! What did he need?! What did he want!?”

“He wanted to know who was the Older Brother between Floyd and I,” Jade answers without missing a beat and smiles down at his business partner.

Both stare at each other in dead silence. Azul lets go of Jade and slowly turns around to his head to his office. Once the Octo-mer made it back into his office, Jade started to mentally count up in his head before he heard loud cursing in the office.

“Ah, 13 seconds. A new record.”

“Malleus! If I had known you were visiting, I would have thrown a party!” Kalim happily greeted the tall Fae.

Malleus smiled at the idea of a party that he would be invited to, but he will save that for another time.

He’s on a mission right now.

Kalim happily walked with Malleus to the Scarabia lounge room, offering Malleus to sit down with him. He took a seat next to Kalim in the soft blankets and pillows laid across the lounge floor. “If you want, I can make us some tea and we can play a game of Mancala!”

Malleus chuckles at the over excited human. “Perhaps another time. I’m here to ask you some questions. Serious questions, actually.”

“Oh!” Kalim positions himself so his body was fully facing Malleus, he then slaps his cheeks with his hands and furrows his brows, trying to look more serious for the topic. “Serious… So what’s the questions?”

“I’ve heard you have a lot of younger siblings, and you are the eldest among all of them. I wanted to know how you make time to spend time with all of them.”

Kalim blinked for a second and broke out into a huge smile. “Oh, my siblings? Well, it’s been awhile since I’ve played with them since I’m here,” he lets out a chuckle and continues, “But when I do go home, I do my best to play with all of them! I make sure to try to play something that all of us can do together. Sometimes they don’t agree on what we should do, and small arguments do occur… but I do whatever I can to make sure they’re all happy in the end!”

Kalim continues to talk, recounting stories about his siblings, all while Malleus wrote down in his notepad.

“Hey Kalim, did you finish your homework? I didn’t see you in your room.” Jamil walks around the corner and chokes on his spit when his eyes land on Kalim and Malleus.

WHAT IS HE DOING HERE!?

“Ah, Viper! You made it just in time! Al-Asim was just telling me about his younger siblings. Please, join us.” Malleus tried his best to smile at the Vice Housewarden, unfortunately it only made Jamil more nervous.

“Yes, come join us Jamil! Oh that reminds me, how’s Najma?” Kalim asked all of a sudden, curious on how Jamil’s younger sister is doing.

That’s such an odd question to ask out of nowhere…

“Ah yes, I came to Al-Asim to ask about his younger siblings and how he cares for them as an Older Brother. And now that I’ve been reminded, you are Najma’s older brother… now tell me Viper, what is it that you do with your sister?”

What kind of question is that?! Is that why he’s here?!

Jamil had to sit down so he wouldn’t fall over due to feeling light headed.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I am an Older Brother now, and I wish to know how to be a good to my Baby Sibling.”

Ah so it ties back to the Prefect… Jamil was ok with that, it’s not like Malleus was demanding much, just some advice and information…

Was that a notepad?

“Najma is always checking up on Jamil! I’ve heard them talk over the phone before, asking about his mental health and if she needs to send over their mother’s special tea blend.” Kalim answered for Jamil, causing the boy to look at his Housewarden in betrayal. “Oh! One time Jamil made her really angry so Najma planted a small beetle on his desk.”

“That was not ‘small’!”

“During one summer, they went on Vacation to Sunset Savanna. From what Najma told me, Jamil was so hard to handle due to there being so many bugs in the area!”

Jamil jumped Kalim from across the lounge and both started to tussle. Kalim laughing thinking it was a game, while Jamil was trying to shut him up with the embarrassing stories.

Meanwhile Malleus was just writing down everything, a small smile on is face as he thought about his Baby Sibling. Maybe he can take you on vacation one day! Just family bonding time!

The Dragon Fae paused his writing as he taps his pen against the paper, already planning his next destination.

Rook Hunt was already waiting for Malleus just at the entrance of Pomefiore. He was holding a small notepad of his own, ready to present it to Roi de Dragon.

"Hunt... I assume you know why I am here?"

"Yes! I couldn't help but hear from around the school that you are looking for advice to better care for the Trickster! Comme c'est beau!" Rook couldn't help but praise Malleus. Just the display of him wishing to improve himself to be a better Older Brother! How beautiful, it's so touching!

"Unfortunately, I can not stay to tell you about the experience within my own family due to having to help Roi du Poison... so I have gone ahead and prepared my own notepad for you!"

Oh! That was kind of him!

"I thank you. I also assume that what you wrote down is how you spend time with your siblings, along with how you treat them?"

"Oui! I have two older siblings and three younger ones. I am considered an older brother to the three, after all, and I wish to share my knowledge with you, Roi De Dragon! After all, you are a Big Brother now, and as a Big Brother, it's our job to look after our Baby Siblings."

Malleus couldn't help but smile at the hunter's words. So even Rook Hunt understands the importance of being an Older Brother.

Excellent.

With that, Malleus said his goodbyes to Rook as he went off to ask more students for advice.

A red screen flashes right in front of Idia as he was in the middle of one of his games. At first it startled him, and then he began to panic. The red screen switches to a camera in the main hall of Ighihyde, showing Ortho guiding a tall figure through the dorm. But that wasn't just any tall figure...

That was Malleus Draconia!

Why is Ortho leading Malleus Draconia to his room?!

"Oh no no no no no no, I am not ready to die! I haven't even finished getting my daily pulls!" Idia full on panics as he types away on his monitor, trying to send a message to Ortho.

Idia waits for Ortho to respond to his message... and then sees he's been on read...

And Ortho still leads Malleus to his room!

"Big Brother! There's someone who wants to see you!"

Like sevens they do!

"I'm not here!"

Malleus and Ortho just stare at the door in silence, processing Idia's response.

"Shroud, I wish to only ask you some questions-"

"Nobody is here! Please leave a message after the beep...”

Malleus waits for a while, "... I did not hear a beep.”

Ortho sighs as he tries to unlock the door. "Brother is just nervous around company."

"I understand, but if he's not available, maybe I can ask you.” Malleus confessed as he watched the robotic boy turn to him.

Ortho points at himself, “Me?” Malleus chuckles at the young boy and nods.

“Yes, I have been asking around the school for advice from other students who are also older brothers. Though, seeing how Idia Shroud in unavailable, I should take a different approach.”

Ortho nods as he believes what Malleus is going to ask. The younger Shroud has heard talk around the school how Malleus Draconia has been asking about how to be an Older Brother. When he ran into Malleus in the Mirror chamber, he mentioned how he wanted to talk to Idia and Ortho thought it was a wonderful idea.

Idia is the best Big Brother after all!

“Do you wish to ask me on my own perspective on being the younger sibling? Is so, I will happily answer any questions!” Ortho responded enthusiastically, Malleus couldn’t help but chuckle from the young boy.

Malleus takes out his notepad and pen, ready to write down the new information he will receive. “You would be considered Idia Shroud’s Baby Brother, so I wish to know… how well are you being taken care of? Does Shroud take his role as a Big Brother seriously?”

Ortho hums and tilts his head to the side, going through his memories and wondering on which one to use as a good example. His eyes open back up and he lights up on the spot. “Big Brother does treat me well! In fact, he makes different models of me with different outfits!”

“Ah yes, I do recall you having your own version of ceremonial robes. He helped you make them?”

“Yes! Idia has made a lot of upgrades for me in the past, even right now he is doing research on a new model for me!” Ortho was getting more animated by the second as he spoke about his own older brother.

Malleus wrote down the younger Shroud’s answer, pleased with the result.

He can’t make you ‘upgrades’ like how Idia does for Ortho, but maybe he can make you something else?

Maybe a gargoyle for Ramshackle?

Malleus paused his writing as he just remembered something. He pulls out a pocket watch from inside his school uniform and sees how much time has passed.

“Ah, it’s already late… as much as I wish to ask more questions, my own Baby Sibling is waiting for me.” Malleus puts his watch, pen, and notepad away.

Ortho giggled, “I completely understand! Please say hi to them for me!”

Malleus nods as he begins to make his way out of the Ignihyde dorm. Ortho waved at Malleus as he watches him leave, still standing outside Idia’s room. After a few seconds go by the door to the room opens up, revealing Idia. Ortho was expecting him to be nervous, instead he was met with Idia’s face all scrunched up, like he ate a lemon.

“Did he just come over to ask about family? Malleus? Bruh, from anyone else, I can see that. Him? That’s like the Final Boss asking the hero advice on how to become a better villain, super cringe.”

“I think it was sweet for Malleus Draconia to come visit you! You’re the best Big Brother after all!” Idia couldn’t help but huff out a small chuckle, as he reaches his hand out and ruffles the top of Ortho’s head. The younger Shroud giggles at the action, enjoying the affection his Older Brother gives him.

You were currently waiting on the front steps of Ramshackle, waiting for a certain Dragon Fae to show up, and that certain Dragon Fae was going to get an earful from the rumors you were hearing all day.

Apparently Malleus was going around asking other students who had younger siblings about ‘What does it mean to be a Big Brother?’ You couldn’t help but groan in your hands.

That’s just super embarrassing!

Green lights begin to sparkle as you peak from your hands, seeing the green fireflies that appear every time Malleus came to visit. When removing your hands, you see him. Malleus standing before you looking proud as ever.

You were annoyed by the his actions, but seeing him now looking like he conquered the world made that annoyance evaporate.

“Took you long enough. I’ve heard you’ve had an eventful day today.”

“Ah…” Malleus looks away from you, scratching the side the side of his cheek. “So you’ve heard. I was hoping this to be a surprise.” You couldn’t help but snort.

“A surprise? Horton you’ve been asking every student around the school about the meaning behind ‘Big Brother’! Like seriously, you think I wouldn’t find out about it?” You give him a teasing smile as you watch him crouch down to sit beside you on the front porch steps.

Malleus began to pout, and you let out a laugh seeing the intimating fae pout. POUT! “I wasn’t aware that my questions would cause a stir around the school. I only wished to seek advice.”

“Did you get what you were looking for?”

Malleus turned to look at you, he examined you as you awaited his answer. He turns away and pulls out the notepad he’s had with him this whole time, turning back to you he smiles.

“Would you like to see what I’ve gathered?”

You couldn’t possibly say no.

The rest of the evening you read through his notes, pointing at certain facts and stories from other students. There were a few times where you had to put the notepad down due to having a laughing fit.

Just watching you be happy with his research made the dragon fae happy. As he saw the way you smiled and your laughter echoed around the evening sky, he made a promise;

He will do everything in his power to make sure his Baby Sibling always smile.

Maybe that’s what it means to be a Big Brother.

————————————————————————

I finally finished the second part! Oh good lord! Hope you all enjoy it!

@frootloopscos @d1g1t4ld1v1n3

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst malleus #twst x reader #x reader #platonic relationships #big brother malleus #kalim al asim #jamil viper #jade leech #floyd leech #azul ashengrotto #rook hunt #idia shroud #ortho shroud

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