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dolcecherub · 7 days ago

Text

off the record ‧͙⁺˚*･☾

♡ pairing: oscar piastri x media manager!reader

♡ tags: social media manager reader, lowkey tension, deadpan oscar, pining oscar, frustrated reader lol, happy ending, fluff

♡ yap: this was inspired by this fic here by the lovely @papayainsectorone, they wrote this dynamic so well and the smut is *chefs kiss* i was craving more build up so here's my take on it :) honestly wasn't expecting to have another fic out so soon but i'm in the writing mood, so expect maybe some smut soon lol

♡ word count: 4.6k

Being Oscar Piastri’s social media manager sounded a hell of a lot cooler on paper.

The reality? A full-time position in pure damage control and editing.

It wasn’t that Oscar was a bad guy, quite the opposite actually. He was annoyingly likable. But in an industry of personalities so polished you could see your reflections in them, Oscar was… well, Oscar. Dry-humoured, mostly straight-faced, foreign with emojis aside from the simple smiley face. Not even a golden retriever puppy in a McLaren hoodie could crack a big smile from the man.

You had tried everything and it was quite easy to say that the last few months had been hell.

You wrote him fun captions, you scheduled posts, and briefed him before interviews. And yet he would still deadpan his way through as many interactions as he possibly could, switching up your pre-written captions for three-word ones. If you were lucky, maybe he’d add a song to it.

Once, in a fatal attempt, you had practically begged Oscar to do a TikTok trend. His response?

“I’d rather crash into a barrier and get stuck in a gravel trap.”

Still, you kept at it. You filtered photos, crafted witty tweets and captions, and edited videos for TikTok, so he at least looked 20% more charming and 100% engaged. But Oscar remained the same, calm, collected, and chronically unbothered.

It drove you crazy, and some part of you was convinced Oscar found joy in riling you up, the tension spiralling between you two.

Until one day, you just…stopped.

It was after an interview in which Oscar said, “Yeah, the car was good,” followed by a few simple remarks about the overall race and the car, even though you had specifically coached him on how to highlight the team’s efforts and the new upgrades. You sat there, watching the video on your laptop, the PR director sending you questioning looks. Something in you just gave up.

If Oscar didn’t care, why should you?

This time, instead of doubling down and trying harder to fix it, you shifted gears.

You kept running the socials, kept building out the calendar, kept coordinating cross-posts with sponsors. You threw yourself into season promos for some rookies, drafted killer captions for Lando (who did, in fact, appreciate them, often adding his own flair as well). Hell, you even helped restructure the entire engagement strategy for McLaren’s YouTube account. Your inbox was still flooded, deadlines still to be met. You were still good at your job, just focusing your attention elsewhere rather than bending over backwards for Oscar.

You still gave him the essentials. Posted his podium shots with a simple caption fit for him, uploaded interview clips without the usual fun editing. You stopped chasing him for quotes and thoughts, and generally stopped fighting for moments he didn’t want to give.

And weirdly enough, it all kept going.

Oscar didn’t change, of course, the fans still adored him, his dry wit, his blank expressions, the accidental charisma of someone who didn’t try at all, or didn’t have to. People enjoyed his slightly sarcastic comments post-race, and so what if his metrics slightly dipped? It’s not like he necessarily noticed it.

You still saw him every day, still worked around him, still made space for him on the schedule, but not in your head. Not in that quiet, careful way you used to. Perhaps you had gotten too close, you reeled. No more last-minute efforts to make him sound polished, no more staying late to re-edit his posts, not when you had better things to do for people who truly cared.

And if he noticed the shift, the quiet space you left where your effort used to live, he didn’t say a word. Which, somehow, was more than enough.

✧༺♥༻∞

It was a Thursday morning, and everything had been off.

You were running late, which, truthfully, rarely happened. A sponsor call had run longer than it should’ve, your usual transportation route taking a detour you were unaware of, and your badge wouldn’t scan at the main paddock gate. By the time you finally walked through the McLaren hospitality, your hair had been haphazardly clipped up, your phone was at 3%, and your brain was somewhere between caffeine withdrawal and a full-on system crash.

You exhaled sharply, finally getting a moment to catch your breath. You pulled open the media schedule to hopefully catch up before the day truly began, your head slightly spinning as you barely noticed the figure leaning against the wall.

Oscar.

He was dressed in team gear, the orange always sitting well with his skin tone as he had a basic black ball cap on and some shorts, his bag slung over his shoulder with a hand in his pocket. He looked casual, calm.

As per usual.

His other hand held out something to you as he walked closer. A coffee cup.

You looked up at him curiously, head tilting slightly as you lowered your tablet. “What’s this?”

“Coffee,” he said simply. “Obviously.”

You eyed it, seeing your name written on the side as your jaw twitched at his tone.

“...What kind of coffee?” You asked, his eyes roaming your face.

“Extra hot. Two sugars. Oat milk and a shot of caramel.” He said like it was nothing, as if he hadn’t just recited your exact order back to you, heart stammering against your chest.

You brought your hand up, taking it from him, fingers brushing his slightly. Your jaw nearly dropped with shock. Why hadn’t he listened like this during pre-interview briefings?

It was still warm to hold, still fresh. The lid was secured the way you always preferred, double cups, the lid pressed down tight with no drips at the seam.

You searched his face for expressions, “You got this for me?” You asked, albeit a silly question.

Oscar shrugged, arms crossing against his chest, his biceps stretching the sleeves of his shirt, his eyes straying from yours. “You’re usually here earlier. Figured you didn’t have time to stop for one.” He said as if it meant nothing.

A beat passed, your heart skipping that exact beat.

You swallowed. “I didn’t.”

Another pause, your face flushing slightly.

“Thank you,” You said finally, voice far quieter than before.

He nodded, not smug, just acknowledging, as if that was the end of it. As if he hadn’t just undone a week’s worth of you convincing yourself that he didn’t notice you slipping away.

He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and added, “I wasn’t sure if it was oat or almond. Figured it was oat, you seem like it.”

You blinked, brows furrowing slightly in confusion. “Why?”

He gave you the faintest smirk, “Almond milk people always have something to prove.” He joked.

You huffed, surprised by the small, shaky breath of laughter it pulled out of you. Perhaps you did understand the population’s obsession with him.

Oscar turned to leave, no further acknowledgement, no comment on your attire or the lack of polish to your appearance this morning, no follow-up. Just the quietest moment between you two, the coffee in your hand warming your palm cozily, his smirk setting your pulse to quicken.

He didn’t look back.

Although it didn’t matter, because you were already watching him go, heart quietly pounding.

So he did notice.

Even when you thought he didn’t.

✧༺♥༻∞

A few weeks had passed, and you were getting yourself ready for the following race weekend. The past few weeks had been the same, doing more for others to keep yourself while keeping Oscar entertained with the bare minimum.

Now, it started with a headache.

Then came the chills, the sore throat, the kind of fatigue that sank into your bones like wet cement, weighing you down impossibly. You told yourself it was nothing, stress maybe, but by the time the race weekend rolled around, you couldn’t even sit up without your head spinning.

You did what you had to. You called in sick, feeling bad, although you had not done so before while working with the team.

Just one day, you told yourself. Just one race day. The team could surely handle it, you had pre-scheduled most of the posts anyway, as well as sending over any notes and ideas you had to the rest of the team to follow. And it wasn’t like Oscar would notice. He barely spoke to you when you were there anyway.

So you stayed in your hotel room, curtains drawn, laptop closed, and haphazardly thrown onto the armchair next to the bed. You had wrapped yourself in two blankets, your body settled with a chill that wouldn’t leave. You drifted in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of your phone buzzing a few times, your body far too sleepy to pay attention, let alone respond.

Around 6 p.m., there was a knock on the door.

You blinked, trying to figure out if it was in your room or a distant noise in the hall. You felt your stomach clench, mostly empty aside from a few pieces of toast from earlier in the afternoon and water.

Another knock sounded on the door. Firmer this time, followed by silence.

You dragged yourself up, wincing as the floor spun. You brushed your hair down slightly and wiped away any sleep from your eyes, your body shivering from the sudden chill after emerging from your blankets. You cracked the door open slowly, expecting the hotel staff, perhaps with a message from the team or even room service.

It was neither.

Oscar stood in front of you, simply dressed in a quarter zip and some jeans, his hair slightly tousled. He still looked calm, a medium sized brown paper bag in one hand and a plastic container in the other. You froze, so did he, though only for a second, just enough to make you think he hadn’t expected you to actually open the door.

“Hi,” you croaked, your throat aching and sore, raw from not speaking all day.

“You’ve sure seen better days, hm?,” he asked rhetorically, face deadpan.

You raised a brow, now feeling slightly embarrassed at the state he was seeing you in as you shamefully brushed your messy hair down as well as possible. “Thanks…”

“I meant it in a supportive way.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the doorway, suddenly feeling fairly light headed again, simply too tired to question what the hell was going on. “Why are you here?”

He shifted the bag in his hand, fixing his grip, eyes not meeting yours. “You didn’t show up today. You don’t not show up.”

You swallowed sorely, “I texted the team, told them I was sick.”

“Yeah,” he said, tone quiet, “but you didn’t text me.”

That shut you up.

Oscar cleared his throat, holding out the plastic container filled with soup. “It’s the one you always get when it’s cold, the one from the random organic store down the street. You know, the one with the weird green logo.”

Your chest tightened, his eyes trailing back up to yours.

“And I brought some ginger tea bags. And the gummy vitamins you always hoard in the media van.”

You stared at the bag in his hand, and then back up at him, his eyes dark, cheeks slightly pink, surely from being in the sun all day. “You walked across the paddock to get those?”

“They deliver. I’m not that heroic.” He joked. You knew as a matter of fact that they didn’t deliver, you had most definitely asked more than once before, but you supposed Oscar didn’t want to admit that he had done that for you.

You exhaled a half-laugh, quiet, slightly painful and unsteady.

Oscar looked at you, no smirk, no blank stare. Just something softer, eyes relaxed, something he could barely hold back.

“Can I come in?” he asked after a pause, “Just to make sure you don’t choke on soup or something.” He teased.

You stepped aside, far too tired to joke and too tired to pretend like you didn’t want to be taken care of.

He stepped in, toeing off his shoes, then settling the soup and the bag on the table tucked in the hotel corner. You crawled back into bed, body immediately collapsing into the fluffed sheets as you sniffled.

He walked around filling the room’s small kettle with some water before putting it to boil and opening up the soup container before bringing it and a spoon to the bedside table. You sleepily watched him quietly move around the room with a sense of ease, your heart aching at his actions. Hearing the kettle click, he grabbed a mug, opened up the tea bag case and popped one in before pouring in some water. Settling that beside you on the table, too, he finally glanced at you.

“Come on, sit up. At least eat some of the soup before you fall asleep,” Oscar spoke, voice soft and convincing as he settled down into the armchair next to the bed, making sure to move your laptop before sitting.

Pushing yourself up, you sat against the headboard, head spinning again. He passed you the soup, simply watching you eat as much as you could without feeling sick. Neither of you said anything, Oscar simply ensuring you were okay, passing you a napkin whenever you needed it.

Placing the empty container down on the bedside table, you wiped your sleeve across your mouth before sliding back down into bed. Oscar stood up, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders when you shifted with a wince as your eyes fluttered shut. His fingers brushed over your arm as he did, then simply brushing a few hairs off your forehead, your body shivering, not from the chill this time but rather from his touch.

“I’m fine,” you spoke, voice extremely rough but quiet.

He didn’t say anything. Just sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, hands now folded in his lap, his eyes flickering between you and the headboard as if he was doing anything to stop himself from looking at you for too long.

You were the one to break the silence, eyes still shut. “You didn’t have to come.”

“I know,” he said. You felt your breath catch for a second, mind drifting slowly to sleep.

“Thank you, Osc.” You mumbled quietly, words slurring from fatigue.

He hadn’t said anything after that. And so what if his gaze lingered a bit too long before he left that night? You would be none the wiser, head misty with sleep.

✧༺♥༻∞

Weeks later, at the start of a triple header, everything felt back to normal. Too normal. It grated your nerves more than ever.

Oscar was back to his usual self, low-effort captions, brushing off most interview questions with short answers, and ignoring half of your content ideas. After you had thought you’d made at least some progress, you found yourself rubbing your temple in frustration after he refused to film a “Pre-race ritual” TikTok a few sponsors had requested.

You found him in the garage, talking to a mechanic, most likely about race strats. If only he spoke to the media with such enthusiasm. You walked towards him angrily, your tablet hanging at your fingertips, face flushed with anger.

“Oscar, may I speak with you, please?” You asked, tone stern and straight to the point.

His brows knitted together with confusion, the mechanic patting his arm twice before walking away. He tilted his head, following behind you as you led him to a meeting room. You closed the door, setting the tablet down on the desk before turning back to face Oscar, arms crossing angrily against your chest. You leaned back against the desk, staring him down momentarily before speaking.

“Why do you make this so hard?” You huffed, voice cracking slightly. You hate that it cracked.

“Make what hard?” He asked, mirroring your body language.

“This!” You said waving your arms around for emphasis. “Your image, your career. I bust my ass trying to make you look even remotely engaged in sponsorships and media day, and yet you act like you’re allergic to enthusiasm.” You ramble exasperatedly, catching your breath before you continue. “And then- then you go and do these little things, like buying me coffee or taking care of me when I’m sick. I’m not stupid Oscar, I know you’re not oblivious. You notice things, you care. But you pretend like you don’t and it’s… infuriating.”

He was quiet, not blinking, eyes still holding your gaze. He walked closer, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face before returning to his crossed-arm position, just now closer to you. Your heart pounded at his proximity.

The silence between you was heavy, suffocating almost.

“I don’t let people see it because once they do, they expect more. They expect a reaction every time a little blip happens. And I’m not good at more.”

You stared up at him, lips parted slightly.

“I didn’t grow up under the impression of needing to be liked.” He spoke, eyes searching yours. “I wanted to drive. I wanted to win. But now, I’ve got people picking apart every expression, every quote, hell everything I don’t say. And you-you come into my life like this force to be reckoned with. You clean up my messes, making me look far better than I am. And it terrifies me.” He admitted truthfully.

He exhaled as though he hadn’t meant to say that last part, but it was too late now.

“You make me want to try. Even though I don’t know how. And I hate that I let you do everything alone, I’m sorry I don’t cooperate more. I hate that I don’t say thank you when I should. I hate that I barely show what I feel because I’m scared that once I do, it’ll matter too much. That people will always want that, and I won’t be able to deliver.” Oscar spoke frantically.

Your breath caught, heart aching for being mean to him originally. “Oscar…”

He continued, “I noticed when you stopped trying so hard,” He admitted, voice softer as he took a step closer. “And it scared the shit out of me because I thought that meant you were done. That I had pushed you too far. And if I lost you…I don’t know what I’d do.”

And for the first time, you felt as though Oscar hadn’t just meant in terms of work.

You stood still, heart hammering against your ribs.

He stepped forward once more, practically caging you against the desk and himself.

“I brought you coffee because I know you can barely function without it in the morning. I remember your order because you complained about the barista using a shot of vanilla instead of caramel once. I remember you like it extra hot because it keeps your hands warm while you’re out. I brought you soup because I know you hate being alone when you’re sick. I pay attention, even if I don’t always know what to say, but I do care, okay? Far more than I’ve let on.” He expressed, eyes fluttering across your face. “Maybe more than I should.” He confessed quietly, cheeks lightly flushing.

You stared at him, awestruck. The boy who never flinched on track, now looking completely exposed.

You reached a hand towards him, pulling them away from his chest and placing them next to you on the desk, his body leaning slightly forward.

And in a quiet, breaking voice, you said, “Then say it, tell me.” You plead.

His eyes didn’t leave yours.

“I care about you,” his voice hoarse with emotion. “Not just because you make my life easier, even if I don’t make yours any easier,” he joked with a sarcastic huff before continuing. “Not just because you’re brilliant at your job. Because I care about you. And I think I’ve been falling for you since the day you yelled at me for skipping media day.”

The silence returned, your body flushing at the confession and your breath hitched slightly.

“You make me want to be better. Not just for the press. For you. Because when you’re around, I don’t feel like some machine for the media to chew up and spit out. I feel like maybe I’m someone worth showing up for.” He confessed, arms encaging you against the desk as his head leaned down slightly.

Then quieter, “I know I’ve been difficult. I don’t say enough, but I’m saying it now. I care, I care about you. I want you here. Not because you fix things, but because I love having you around.” He reiterated, you felt as though you hadn’t spoken in ages, none of the right words coming to mind.

Your throat tightened.

And suddenly, the frustration, the exhaustion, the weeks worth of wondering if he even noticed you slipping away, all cracked away and spilled into something else.

A knock on the door interrupted your moment as you broke away. He took a step back, head whipping towards the door as your breath caught up to you.

Work awaited you.

✧༺♥༻∞

Days had passed, the paddock was winding down for the night.

You had migrated from your desk to one of the couches in the corner of the hospitality unit, half-heartedly editing clips from Oscar’s earlier media rounds to hopefully post the following morning. Your headphones sat around your neck, untouched. The screen glowed, but your eyes glazed over somewhere between the third and fourth timestamp.

You hadn’t talked about the confession since it happened, but your mind kept drifting back to him. The look on his face and the way his voice sounded.

You’d both gone back to work like professionals. He gave more thoughtful answers during interviews. You polished his media presence like always, job slightly easier nowadays. But under every interaction with him sat this new charged silence, one that said something happened and neither of you had figured out what it meant yet.

Then came a quiet knock from the doorframe.

Oscar.

He wasn’t in race gear anymore, not even team gear, just a hoodie, slightly damp at the sleeves, his hair tousled from his post-session shower. He looked…normal, cozy if you would. Not a headline, or a race statistic, or a social media puzzle for people to pick apart.

Just him.

“You busy?” He asked, walking closer anyway.

“A little,” you blinked, watching him intently.

He stepped closer, sitting on the couch across from you, silent for a moment, before wordlessly placing a bag on the table between you, sliding it towards you.

Your brows furrowed curiously, “What is this?”

“Some takeout, I figured you hadn’t eaten in a while since most places on the track are closed by now. It’s the fried rice you like and some of those weird seaweed chips you eat when you’re stressed.” He explained, cheeks flushing slightly pink.

You paused, still in awe of the fact that he noticed. “You remembered.” you spoke, leaning forward to untie the bag and pulling out the bag of chips, a soft smile crossing your face.

He didn’t look at you, eyes wandering the room. “It wasn’t hard.”

Your chest tightened.

You pushed your laptop aside, slowly looking at him. There was something in the way his shoulders tensed, the slight crease in his brow. As though he was trying to say something without saying it too fast, or too wrong.

“Oscar-”

“I keep thinking about what you said. About how you care and how I didn’t give you anything back.” He swallowed thickly. Your breath caught but you stayed quiet.

He looked up at you then, and for once he didn’t look guarded or sarcastic. He looked nervous.

“I kept thinking if I acted like I didn’t need anyone, I couldn’t lose anything. But I think maybe I lost a little bit of you already, and fuck, I don’t want to keep doing that.”

You felt your eyes sting unexpectedly as you blinked quickly.

“I don’t expect you to fix me up or stay just because I suddenly decided to show up. But I meant it all. I care. About all of it, about you. I was worried if I said the wrong thing, I’d ruin the only good thing I actually gave a shit about.”

“I’ve been trying to show it,” he went on, voice tighter now. “In the ways I can, but I don’t know if it’s enough. And it’s driving me fucking insane wondering if I’ve missed my chance”

Your heart beat a little too loudly in your chest.

He ran a stressed hand through his hair, “I keep thinking about how close I could’ve been to losing you. It’s not just about work, it never has been.” His eyes met yours, raw and serious. “It’s you. I don’t want to go through another race weekend without knowing if you’re mine. If this thing between us is real or if I’ve just been imagining it.”

The room went still.

You stood slowly, every nerve in your body on fire, the air between you wound so tight it could snap.

“You didn’t miss your chance,” you said, your voice barely a breath. You walked towards him, now standing next to him sat on the couch, within arm’s reach.

A pause, his jaw clenching as though something had finally broken.

He reached for you, pulling you closer with a hand on your waist as he stood up. Oscar towered over you now, arms snaking around you comfortably as your hands came up to rest on his chest.

He leaned down, breath fanning your face as his nose nudged yours. Then, he kissed you. Lips landing on yours like they had waited months.

Tension bled out of both of you like a flood. His mouth was warm and searching, far too much restraint pent up as his teeth gnashed teasingly against your bottom lip. You stood slightly on your tiptoes to reach him better, a hand sliding up from his chest into his hair, tugging lightly as he groaned.

It was far from perfect, you stumbled slightly unbalanced as his hands shook against your hip, but it was real. Honest and a little desperate. You slid your tongue against Oscar’s lip, his own poking out to meet yours. He licked into your mouth, hand tightening against your hip as you whined.

You pulled back slightly, nose still pressed against his breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ve wanted to do that since my second week on the job,” You admitted, lips curling into a smile.

He huffed a soft laugh. “Took me that long to stop pretending I didn’t”

You smiled, brushing your fingers along the curve of his neck, lightly scratching the hair at the nape of his neck as he shivered. “So what now?”

“Now I stop pretending, full stop.” He spoke, no hesitation. “And I get to flirt with my media manager.” He joked, a small smirk settling on his face.

You giggled softly, feeling the weight of that promise, simple and sincere, You leaned into him, body warming at his words.

“Let me take you home,” He spoke softly, mouth near your ear as he whispered as if trying to keep it a secret between you two.

You shuddered at his words, biting your lip before facing him again. You nodded slowly at him, eyes lighting with excitement. He smiled at you sweetly, placing another small kiss on your lips before letting you go to pack up.

Everything seemed to be exactly where it was meant to be, and you felt your heart settle happily at how the night turned out.

✧༺♥༻∞

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ce1estiall · 1 month ago

Text

already over

summary paige x teammate!reader you got drafted to the dallas wings in the 2026 wnba draft. you and paige got off the wrong foot the year before. now it was time to face her. masterlist.

warnings mentions of suicide, mental health, cheating, fighting, angst, slight fluff at the end (happy ending ;))

celestial notes based off of this request. the long awaited fic, i stayed up late for this. enjoy!

"i know in the end it wont be us, it can never be the same as before.

already over, i erased you, then that day." already - gidle

you felt like you were in a dream, waiting for someone to pinch you. the moment you have been dreaming for, since you were a kid. that orange carpet that made its way to new york for the 2026 wnba draft.

you had one word for what you wanted to wear: cunt. your stylist, claire, blinged you out in a semi-oversized rhinestoned grey blazer with bronze buttons and a matching grey jumper with very thin white stripes, also a handmade belt of the same material. she paired you with silver channel logo earrings and knee high black boots. you hair was curled, but eventually became wavy due to them falling out. you had very natural makeup, barely blush. you had a hint of sparkle eyeshadow on your eyes, that would shine in photos. eyeliner so sharp it could've cut someone, and a peachy pink lipgloss.

photographers were in awe when they saw you walk down the orange carper, all calling out your name to take pictures of you in every single angle imaginable. you walked down with two feelings. confidence on how you looked and anxiety for when your name would be called.

as you entered the arena, you sat down next to your parents. gold-and white basketball engraved with your name. "CONNECTICUT" under it.

not only were you at the draft, but so was your teammate azzi. your teammates came out to support both of you and cheer you on.

you've seen azzi go through so much, but the media was putting you as rivals as who was going to be the #1 pick. mock drafts were changing, switching between you and azzi. but no matter the outcome, you would both be proud of each other.

you've seen azzi go through so much. knee injuries, physical therapy, azzi was the one who really deserved it all. she was also a wonderful teammate and friend to you, always offering to pay for your things or go clubbing together on days you had off.

the draft was about to start any moment now. you were hearing the espn commentators talk about how dallas was on the clock for their pick and you and azzi’s journey to get here. you felt a mix of emotions all forming in your gut. excitement, nervousness, fear, freedom. your future was in the hands of any wnba team. you didn’t care where you got drafted to, you would just be happy to hear your name called.

cathy engelbert entered the stage, signaling dallas had made their decision.

“with the first pick in the 2026 wnba draft, the dallas wings select (y/n), university of connecticut.”

you smile grew as big as the arena. you could almost cry. you got up and hugged your mom, then your dad, then coach auriemma. “i’m so proud of you kid. you deserve this.” he whispered to your ear. you wiped a tear from your face, hoping to not ruin your makeup so early.

you walked up the steps to the stage. the same steps you watch wnba legends walk on. you shook cathy’s hand, as she handed you the wings jersey with #1 on the back. you smiled for the camera. a true, natural smile.

you walked back down to the steps as holly rowe greeted you, wanting to interview you.

“congratulations for going as the #1 pick tonight. i'm sure the fans have seen you work so hard. what are you feeling in this moment?” she asked.

“i’m feeling a lot of everything.” you started to choke up. “i’m trying to not ruin my makeup.” you said with laughter as you wiped a tear away. “but in all seriousness i’m so thankful for the opportunity i got at uconn. it was a once in a lifetime experience for me and i wouldn’t trade it for the world.” you turned around to your table, facing your family. “i just really want to thank my parents for all the sacrifices they’ve made for me to be here in this moment. my coaches, my teammates, the best teammates i could ever ask for.” the audience clapped as they heard your response.

holly continued. “we know that you’ve been going through a lot mentally during your basketball career. how does it feel like that you’ve overcame any challenges you’ve had?”

you smiled, knowing that this would be asked. “uhh it feels pretty rewarding. there was a point in my life where i wanted to quit, not just the sport i loved, but my life as well. i was in a really dark place and i thought i would never get out of it. i questioned my capabilities and my ability in life. i trusted god however and he’s helped me a lot. but credits to my support system who helped me push through and thank god that i’m standing here right now. all glory to him.”

“thank you so much. congratulations again.”

“thank you for your time.” you walked and sat down to your parents again. your worry of not getting called was at ease. you felt accomplished. all you blood, sweat, and tears had paid off. now, it was azzi’s time to shine.

cathy came out again. “with the second pick in the 2026 wnba draft, the los angeles sparks select azzi fudd, university of connecticut.”

you jumped up immediately, cheering her. your uconn teammates all screamed and recorded their moment as if it was a concert. azzi was in a white dress with her hair down, curled. she looked absolutely stunning. jaw-dropping even. thank god she chose basketball, because the modeling industry was not ready for her. azzi then spoke to holly about her feelings. you were smiling, maybe even crying a bit. the camera then panned to a familiar blonde, holding a phone with a smile lit across her face.

your face dropped. “fuck me.” you whispered under your breath, as you turned around to find her. it was her. it was paige. it was so obvious she came to support azzi. she could give two shits about you.

you and paige dated for two and a half years during college, when you were a freshman, sophomore, and junior since she was a grade older than you.

it was just a normal day in december. waking up to paige’s stupid singing in the bathroom as she brushed her teeth, eating breakfast before your 10am class, practice later that day, the normal.

you walked to your class, as the cold wind brushed your face, leaving your nose cold. you wore clothes that would keep you warm throughout the day such as a white scarf with a matching beanie and a warm winter coat.

after class, you got ready for practice. getting taped, laced up, and arriving early for some shooting.

practice was the same like always. running till you felt like oxygen wasn’t in your body anymore, defensive slides and drills, offensive plays, and scrimmaging, and slight flirting back and forth with paige. she loved to annoy you during water breaks. however, you were thankful enough to have an amazing bond with your teammates, which is what makes you look forward to in practice.

after practice you returned to your dorm and showered. you didn’t like to feel the sweat after practice. you took an everything shower—shaving, exfoliating, double cleansing. it made you feel refreshed.

you left you hair down to air dry, when you heard knocking on your door so late. puzzled, but you opened the door.

when the door opened, paige stomped in, furious. you can tell she was mad. and when she’s mad, it’s not very pretty.

“you okay?” you asked her looking confused. both of you standing in the kitchen as you put dishes away. emotions were thick, both of you feeling them in the air.

paige started speaking. "are you fucking kidding me?" she said as she shoved you. she was furious, practically seeing the smoke exit her ears, slowly turning red.

"what the fuck are you talking about?" you slowly walked back to the place before. she stood up to you, getting in your face. you could feel her breath as she was breathing angerly.

"sleeping with some fucking guy from the men's basketball team? what the fuck? after all the shit i did for you and you're fucking cheating on me? you're fucking pathetic!"

"paige, wha-" is all you could say before she interrupted you.

"i don't wanna hear your bullshit and pathetic excuses. you and me? it's over. you didn't think twice about us when you got in bed with that fucker. don't fucking call me, text me, look at me, or even breathe near me." you saw her face. it was a heartbroken girl who cared so much just to be stabbed in the back.

she walked out in a blink of an eye before you could say anything to her. she slammed the door, walls slowly shaking from the aftershock.

where did this rumor come from? the girl you've loved since 20 years old, dropped you from a rumor that wasn't true. you couldn't even explained your side of the story--which you didn't have one because this was all a bullshit lie. tears of anger flowed down your cheeks, a drop towards your lips which allowed you to get a taste of salt, which was how you were feeling.

someone wanted to sabotage you and paige's relationship. you didn't care who, but why. you went to the couch, and immediately cried. you were expressing so much emotion that you though you were gonna become from how much cried. the last thing you remembered was sobbing, then laying down on the couch.

you woke up the next day, heading to practice since it was the weekend. when you entered the locker room, you saw paige in the corner of your eye. she saw you. she left immediately and rolled her eyes. you ignored her and you did your routine--lacing up, getting tapped, and arrived early.

practice was about to start in 10 minutes, then you saw azzi walking in, looking confused. "hey girl! how are you?" she asked, excited to see you. you took a deep sigh. "i could be better."

she sat down on the bench of her locker. "is it about paige?" you nodded, as she immediately knew what was going on.

the evening she confronted you, she told the team about what was going on between you two. she knew it wasn't any of their business, but she wanted them to become your enemy. when azzi heard paige's part of the story, she knew you too well. she knew you wouldn't do something like that, especially with a guy, and even me with the girl you loved and always talked to people about.

azzi continued, watching your face and body emotion change. "she told us what happened last night, but i know you wouldn't do shit like that. so i wanna hear your side of what happened."

you took a breath. "last night, paige went to my room, screaming and yelling at me. she was accusing me of cheating on her with a guy from the basketball team. i would not do that. i'm so in love with paige, i wouldn't be with anyone else in my life but her. i have no evidence of talking to this guy on the phone or in real life. you can go through my phone too. shit, i don't even know him!" the water works were starting to form, slowly causing your eyes to become red. "i didn't even get a chance to speak to her. she just said her shit, saying to not call or text or look at her, slammed the door, and left."

azzi patted your back as comfort. "do you want me to sit down the team your side of the story. everyone except paige?" you nodded, cleaning the tears off your face with your hands. you knew paige wouldn't budge, so you and azzi decided to give her time to cool off.

----

post-draft, you had photoshoots the rest of the evening for magazines, social media, and partnerships promoting you in your dallas jersey and how you were also a #1 pick. your grey outfit shimmered from the flashes of the cameras. you were used to the attention being on you in the media, so it didn't bother you when you had 40 flashes going on at one time just for a single photo. coach chris called you, saying how they were so excited to see you in dallas and see how your hard work has paid off. dallas was excited to see your talent, as home-opener tickets sold out within an hour after seeing you being drafted. before you and azzi left for dallas and la, you took a group photo with your team, as they all received dallas wings and la sparks hats to support you and azzi. you hugged them all goodbye "i love you all and will miss you. get a natty for me. ill visit in the offseason." as you broke down. you held azzi a little longer. "good luck in la, az. can't wait to beat your ass." you both cracked up in laughter as streams of tears were all over your face. paige went to hug azzi, and you knew that was your queue to leave.

you headed back to your hotel room, feeling happy and exhausted from this evening. you had to pack all your items and buy flight and hotel tickets to dallas, as you had to be a training camp right away. the shower and bedroom never looked so nice before. you took a shower to remove the leftover makeup from your face and sweat from excitement that evening, tucked yourself into bed while falling asleep to love island playing in the background.

you woke up bright and early at 2 am, as your flight was at 6am. you woke up, and washed your face, feeling the ice cold water on your skin. you packed any other items you may have missed the previous evening, such as toiletries and your outfit from the previous night before. and now, you were off your way to start history, to finally achieve your dream.

you arrived at the chilly airport. since it was still very early, there wasn't as much security and bag checking as you thought, and thankfully you weren't chosen for a tsa check, so you had 2 hours to kill.

you decided to head over to peet's coffee - your favorite cafe. you got an iced vanilla latte with a cheese danish, which was one of your comfort foods. you deserved it, especially after last night. which you were sitting down, eating your "meal", all you could think about was paige. it was like she was haunting you. you thought about how you would have to face her again, now that you were both professional athletes on the same team. you had hope that she would put the pettiness aside and act professional with you. unfortunately that was not the case.

the flight to dallas was amazing. you loved planes and flights. it always gave you a boost of serotonin. you watched the sunset as all the colors blended together. reds, oranges, yellows, pinks and purple, all eventually met each other to become a beautiful view. that is that hope you had with your future teammates. you were now a little fish in a big pond. you took a long awaited nap the rest of your flight, as jetlag was slowly starting to catch up.

you landed and headed straight to the hotel to unpack everything, get ready for training camp, then head to training camp. all in less than an hour. the pressure and anxiety was clearly on you, you were trying to not have a panic attack from now until arriving the practice facility. at one point, you said "fuck it." and left you clothes in a mess all over the bed. you were starting to run late, and that was not a good first impression on you're part. you brought a practice shirt, shorts, and basketball shoes from storrs. you ubered your way to the facility, in awe on how huge and fancy it was in person.

the moment you approached the doors, you took a deep breath. everything is going to be okay you told yourself. you opened the doors, as a new chapter in your life was about to be written. you headed to the gym, eyeing coach chris. he gave you a big, warm and welcoming hug. you felt the excitement transport between you and him. "we are so excited to have you as a part of our program. the rest of the team is in the locker room. we're about to start training camp in about 30 minutes, so you can go introduce yourself and get to know everyone. let me know if you need anything." you gave a soft smile. "got it. thanks once again coach." he sent you off with a wave.

you walked shyly into the locker room as if it were you first day of kindergarden. dijonai smiled and jumped when she saw you walk in. she ran up to you, giving you a hug. "hi rookie!! we are so excited to have you with us! we know you're gonna fit right in here in dallas." you then saw arike, finding her socks. "oh hey! happy to see you. you're gonna enjoy dallas, i already know it." you smiled from all the attention being on you. "thanks guys for the warm welcome! this definitely put me at ease." you saw the rest of the team, sending you waves and smiles. "well for those of you that don't know me, even though i'm pretty sure you do. my name is y/n and i played at uconn. i'm really excited to start my wnba journey here in dallas not just the coaches, but you guys and the fans."

jj started cheering for you, you gave a bright smile in return to show thanks. then you saw paige, giving you a death glare as she sat under her locker. you rolled her off your back. you were not gonna let her ruin your day - or even this new beginning for you. you just let her roll of your back. you headed out of the locker room and went to the gym after you changed into your dallas wings practice gear. the green and blue wasn't necessarily your favorite, but it was starting to grow on you.

then it was now one of the bumps in the road, training camp. even though there was a high possibility of you making the roster, you still wanted to work your ass off to show that you deserve it. it started off with running drills. you ran like there was no tomorrow, you had so much fuel in your tank. there were suicides, 17s, up and backs, the normal when it comes to basketball. you noticed paige as she was trying to take this as a race. you could see her ego boosting on her face if she made it first before you. nalyssa slowly started noticing, but didn't really take much note. you ignored paige, you had more important things to worry about in your life. it moved on to defensive drills. that was where you really started setting the tone for yourself. you loved defense - because that was your specialty as a player. press, blocks and steals always gave you dopamine, because it was exciting. you felt like an absolute beast. the team was very impressed by your defense, as you read the offender, not falling most of the time for the tricks they were attempting to try on you.

shooting drills were next on the list. were you good at them? sorta. can you put points on the boards however? absolutely. midrange was your cup of tea. occasionally hitting a 3 once in a while. however, this is now the w. they want to make you uncomfortable, set you outside your comfort zone. your stats for this set wasn't the best. 3 makes out of 10 attempts. you could do better. paige was making shots like crazy. 9 makes out of 10 attempts. you didn't want to get in your head at such an early stage in camp, so once again you calmed yourself down and ignore it. the second set had improvement for you. 6 makes out of 10, but something inside of you still was not satisfied. you wanted to make all 10. paige, showing off, made all 10. she shoulder checked you, and thats when it started, the determination to make all 10. but when you were good, paige wanted to be great. when you were great, paige wanted to be better. she always wanted to be one step ahead of you. third and final set, you pushed through. making sure your shots were clean, and not rushed. making sure your form was correct and your jumping was as high as you could be. when you heard all 10 swishes, you were finally satisfied. paige noticed you as she waited in line, rolling her eyes and pretending not to care. coach called a water break.

you went to the lobby to grab a sip of water. maddy was behind you, waiting for you to finish. she looked curious. "hey! you doing all right today?" she caught you off guard, almost choking on your water. "hey maddy! yes i'm good, thanks for asking." she looked outside the lobby, like she was anticipating someone. "i noticed paige is just, i don't know, off. it's like she has something against you, don't you think?"

you shrugged your arms. "it's a long story for another day, maddy. i'm just gonna let her have her moment and let it roll off my back, because i really do not need this this week." she started to head back to the gym, "we'll if you need anything i'm here." she left with a smile.

a scrimmage than happened, then the first day of camp had ended, giving you some relief. your tank was finally empty from today, and you couldn't wait to rest and recharge at home for tomorrow.

---

training camp was what seemed like an endless cycle. it felt like the same drills everyday, with minimal switch ups. paige was still in this competition with you, which started to get on your nerves. she would whisper things under her breath. occasionally, you heard what she was saying, like "unworthly" or "overrated". you were not falling for her childish games. the team started to notice more, whispering to each other about what was being observed between you and paige. dijonai was the one who was paying attention to you both the most out of everyone on the team.

training camp day 4 had wrapped up after your team formed a circle to call it the end of the day. you sat down and slid on a wall while chugging from your gaterade water bottle as if it was your last drops on earth. you were minding your business, closing your eyes trying to catch your breath, when you feel a figure suddenly in front of you. you quickly opened your eyes, when you saw paige.

"you can never seem to leave me alone, huh?" you spoke, getting up from the wall. she shrugged. "funny. looks like you need some practice. 1v1?" the light switched. your confidence was now through the roof, because of wanting the satisfactory to watch her lose. "first to 5. i'll shoot for it."

she chuckled. "not like you're gonna ma-" swish. you smiled. "what were you saying?" she ignored you, checking up the ball. you started, feeling the leather all over your hands as you dribbled the ball. you used one of your favorite tricks. crossover, between the legs, behind the back, step back, and shoot. paige tried to block. swish.

2-0. she grabbed the rebound. "so you wanna be like that?"

"i'm not being anything, bueckers. just trying to beat you at your own game." she handed you a bullet pass, purposely aiming for your chest, but you caught it right as it was about to hit you. "since i'm so kind, its losers ball." just as you were about to hand her the ball, you through it over you, not far, but just behind you. that really pissed paige off. "you just an asshole every day or just today?"

she had the ball, jabbed right then dribble left, hitting a pull up floater. you grabbed the rebound, shoulder checking her as you walked to the top of the key, waiting for her to check up. 2-2. "are you just a bitch when i get drafted here or for anyone?" she looked you up and down in anger as she checked up. you shot the 3, but missed. she whispered under her breath, but you managed to hear her. "shot's broken. as expected." she smirked as she ran to get the ball. she went up to the 3 to clear it. "wasn't broken when i did that step back though, huh?" she shot the 3, but you blocked it.

she really started the trash talk after that block. "all bark, but no fucking bite in you. pussy." you gave her a nod as she was underestimating you. you were about to shoot the 3 when she moved out the way. "decided to give you a free lane. accept it while you can. can't fucking making a 3 to save your life." challenge on, bueckers. you looked at her, shooting a no-look 3, smiling from ear to ear when you heard the shot go in. "keep talkin' paige." you stepped up close to her face. "reflecting your insecurities on me because you're fucking pissed i'm here. get fucking used to it, baby. or it ain't gonna look pretty."

dijonai saw from the corner entrance of the locker room. "both of you. locker room, now." her voice was stern, which meant she was not playing around.

you followed paige to the locker room, as you saw the whole team standing in front of you both as you sat down on the bench to your lockers.

arike began. "alright, imma say this shit once and that's it. whatever bullshit y'all have going on between each other needs to be fixed asap because this some bullshit."

dijonai continued. "this is really immature, figure out the battles between both of you. we're gonna head out and leave you two alone and speak your peace. i want this rivalry gone tomorrow morning." both of you nodded as the team headed out.

it was dead silent. none of you wanted to speak first. emotions and tension were thick in the air, you could taste it. you decided to be the bigger person and talk first. "why do you always have to have some sort of competition with me, paige?"

she placed her elbows on her thighs. "because i want to be better than you. i always want to be and always will be."

anger rose throughout your body. "look if you just don't fucking want me here don't be such a pussy and try to sabotage me to leave. be upfront and honest with me."

she got up from her bench. "alright fine, i don't want you here. i was happier without you. i don't like seeing your face here. i want you gone. it will be one less problem for me."

"i'll do you one better paige. give me a good enough fucking reason and i'll be out by tomorrow morning."

silence. paige couldn't think of one. she was still stuck on college, how you hurt and broke her trust. when in reality you did nothing at all. she was brainwashed and fed with lies by someone else to make her hate you. and it worked.

"you look like you wanna kill me half the fuckin' time. like you seeing me happy makes you physically ill." you said, about to surrender and leave with the tone in your voice. "you're not the person i used to know."

she said very unconcerned. "hate to break it to you sweetheart but people change. get used to it."

"see this is why i don't like fucking talking to you! all you do is make shit about yourself paige! have sympathy for once in your goddamn life. or is it just that hard of a concept to grasp for you?" you got up from your bench, slowly approaching her. paige look visibly stunned and offended from what you said. she wasn't upset or sad, she was furious.

"i saw you on draft night paige. i knew you weren't there for me. you could give two fucks about what happens to me. i can fucking die tomorrow god forbid, and you'd show no remorse. no emotion, not one tear shed from your goddamn face. what the actual fuck have i ever done to you to make you act like such a fucking bitch towards me. i've questioned myself day and night for this past week because of how you've been acting towards me. i know you fucking hate me, but that's the only thing i want to know." you were sobbing, crying from the anger that was spilling out of your mouth. paige was angry and numb at the same time. like she wanted to speak, but something was stopping her. finally, she bit the bullet.

"the day i confronted you that you cheated on me. i never saw you the same again. from that day on, you were my enemy. i hated you with every bone in my body that you could do such a thing to me. after everything i've done for you. i was there for you, through it all. i helped you during your injuries, or during the days where you wanted to kill yourself. and that's what you did to me? you stabbed me in the fucking back saying 'i don't want you'. you hurt me deeply, and i wanted you to feel the pain but worse." paige's body now reacted. she stood up and encountered you face to face, while her and eyes turned red from the anger that she was feeling.

"i'm stopping you right there. that day you confronted me, i was gonna say my shit. but you left paige. didn't even give me one fucking chance to explain." you yelled, as your voice increasingly became louder.

paige yelled back. "there was nothing for you to explain."

"can you let me fucking finish?" you gripped your practice jersey, attempting to cool off. "i never, ever, cheated on you paige. someone started that rumor to break us up and it worked. the next day after you confronted me, azzi asked me my side of the story. i didn't even know the fucking guy. paige you could've went through my phone. there was no proof of me ever talking to this guy. plus i'm a lesbian. guys disgust me. why would i cheat on you with a guy?" you took a deep breath. "azzi told me that you told the team what had happened. azzi told the team my side of the story about what happened."

paige intervened. "why didn't azzi tell me? why did she tell everyone except me?"

"because you needed time to cool off and i knew you wouldn't have believed me." you placed your hands on your hips.

paige licked her lips. "i could've understood if you told me what happened." you wanted this conversation to end.

"well i now feel like a dumbass for not telling you earlier paige." you sat back down, legs shaking from anxiety about the venting you just did.

paige sat back down also and turned to look at you. "so if you apparently 'cheated on me' but you in reality didn't, who started that rumor."

you spoke more calmly now. "i don't know. but it was an attempt to break us up. and it worked." you started picking at your nails from anxiety. paige got up and sat next to you. she was the next one about to cry.

"now that you told me this, i'm so sorry for how i treated you. and i know from how i acted earlier that a simple apology is not changing my behavior. when we broke up, i won't lie, i still loved you. i was going insane from not seeing you so often. i've been such a dick towards you, and if i could go back in time to prevent those things to hurt you, i would. i still love you and i care about you so much. i always think about you. on draft night, i mostly went for you. i wanted to see your face again. your smile, your fashion, your dream come true that you told me about." she grabbed your hand and interlocked fingers. "restart our journey with me. a new team, and new beginnings. only if you want to. i understand if you don't." she looked at you, tears escaping her eyelids as she poured her heart out to you. she gripped your hand tighter, making you feel her squeeze. "i've missed you so much paige. more than words can ever imagine."

you both got up from the bench and gave each other a long, warm and meaningful hug that you could've melt into. she placed a kiss on your cheek. "i've missed your touch, your warmth, your scent. i've missed this. all of you."

#dallas wings #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn womens basketball #wnba #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x you #paige x reader #paige bueckers angst

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rafayelxsylusho · 2 months ago

Text

Drafts I left as short fics

Horny thoughts 🔥🔥

I'm thinking of making these a series since I have so many in my drafts.

Each fic will have a different LI

You had known for a while of the hidden camera in your living room, you were a skilled hunter after all, but you simply ignored it, pretending not to notice his constant surveillance.

But not today, today you turned around and glared directly at the camera, eyes narrowing with fury "You're watching, aren't you?" you hissed through gritted teeth "Even now, even after everything, you just can't help yourself."

You stepped closer to the camera, face filling the frame. "I hope having me followed at work was worth it," you spat bitterly, voice dripping with venom. "Because I thought I made myself clear a few weeks ago. But you just won't listen. You always think you know best."

You turned away from the camera and walked into your bedroom, the weight of your thoughts and emotions dragging at your shoulders. You wanted to scream, to rage at Caleb for his controlling ways.

But this was something he wouldn't be able to control, a step too far even for his obsessive, protective nature. Your cheeks flushed hotly at the thought, but before you could lose your nerve, you walked to the drawer beside your bed and pulled out a small vibrator.

You knew, with bone deep certainty, that this moment would change everything between you and Caleb. You had been dancing around this for years, your feelings for each other a tango of longing glances, accidental touches, and unspoken words. Neither of you had been brave enough to take that final, irrevocable step, until now.

Holding it tightly, you walked back out to the living room, standing in front of the camera with your heart pounding in your chest. You knew Caleb would be watching, his eyes glued to the screen, trying to make sense of your sudden boldness.

You took a deep breath and slowly slid your pants down your legs, letting them pool on the floor. Your heart raced as you sat down on the couch, the leather cool against your bare skin. With a trembling hand, you reached under the waistband of your panties, feeling the heat of your own arousal as your fingers brushed against the sensitive flesh.

Suddenly your phone buzzed with an incoming message. You glanced down at the screen, seeing Caleb's name flashing urgently. You opened the message, eyes widening as you read the words:

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!!" it blazed on the screen, the capital letters glaring accusingly.

With a smirk playing on your lips and a casual flick of your wrist, you tossed the phone carelessly to the side, the soft thud barely registering over the pounding of your heartbeat.

Your fingers continued their explorations, grazing teasingly over your clit as you imagined Caleb watching, his eyes glued to the screen, his jaw clenched in frustration. You could almost feel his gaze burning into you, his breath coming in sharp, angry gasps.

Slowly, you reached for the small vibrator, switching it on with a soft hum. The buzzing sound filled the room, you opened your legs a bit more and tugged your panties to the side, careful to obscure his view of your most intimate place while still giving him a tantalizing peek.

With your finger working your clit and your vibrator inside you the heat started building rapidly, your body responding to the forbidden thrill of being watched. You knew you were pushing Caleb to his limits, and yet you couldn't stop.

The phone rang insistently, Caleb's name flashing on the screen as he tried desperately to reach you, but you ignored it, too lost in the building pleasure. Just as you teetered on the brink, your body trembling with impending release you slowed your movements and with a breathless gasp tugged your shirt over your head. Your breasts bounced free, nipples straining against the thin fabric of your bra. The cool air kissed your heated skin, making them pebble and tighten further.

Just as the first wave of ecstasy began to crash over you, you grabbed your shirt and in one swift motion tossed it over the hidden camera. The fabric draped down, obscuring you from Caleb's eyes, a final act of defiance.

Your body shuddered and clenched, a scream tore from your throat. "Caleb!" Your moans echoed through the room, and you knew he would hear you, that he would know the effect his obsession had on you, even if he couldn't see the proof of your pleasure.

You gasped and panted, riding out the aftershocks as they coursed through you. You had never felt so deliciously, wonderfully alive. And you knew, somehow, that this was only the beginning of the war between you.

Your message had been delivered, your challenge thrown down. Now, you could only wait and wonder how Caleb would respond and little did you know, his reaction would be far more intense than you could ever imagine...

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #lads smut #lads x reader #lnds x reader #lads x you #lnds x you #love and deepspace reader #lads caleb #caleb x you #caleb smut #caleb x reader #love and deepspace caleb #lnds caleb #caleb #caleb lnds #caleb lads #caleb love and deepspace

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takes1 · 2 months ago

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Hello! Popping my request in here. ‘ v ‘

Your Kuroo and Kenma fic was to die for, but what I really need is a NSFW Bokuto and Kuroo with reader. Maybe a polyamorous situation?

Because how could you have one without the other? they’re a package deal. 🫱🏻‍🫲🏼

kuroo x reader + bokuto nsfw

this has been in the drafts for a while, just needed to stitch it up. sorry i been gone ya'll, i'm getting ready for big girl life. i can't write and be on top of everything else at the same time rahhh

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / mmf threesome / f!rec oral / praise kink!bokuto / scheming kuroo / soft dom!kuroo, switch!bokuto / overstim / begging / established relationship / himbo!bokuto / everybody is possessive / shallow 3sum vs legit poly theme / 2.3k words

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu.

Your feet were dragging across the floor as you shouldered the bedroom door open.

The exhaustion you had accumulated from that cursed double-shift left your face heavy, your limbs aching. The dull, fuzzy noise of the TV didn't even set you off as unusual.

Kuroo was sprawled across the mattress on his phone, already dressed for bed in the t-shirt you wanted to wear.

You groaned at him, grumbling some half-baked, silly threat to take his clothes off.

He laughed at you, lively, despite the late hour, and spoiled you with a flurry of kisses across all your favorite spots.

"Oohh... Bad shift?" He chuckled.

You started clumsily unbuttoning your stupid, stinky blouse for a few difficult seconds before letting his bigger, steadier hands take the role over instead. But he started doing it back up-- you let out a confused cry. He shushed you.

"What--?"

His lip was tucked between his too-perfect teeth, usually something he reserved for real exciting moments.

He whispered, "We have company, baby."

You jumped in his grip, eyes flying open to scan your bedroom, and realized somebody was sitting in his big gaming chair. It made you feel about a thousand times more tired.

There was an arm visible, troubleshooting his console, and the sound of some games getting shuffled through. The hand was huge, and you couldn't easily recognize who it belonged to. It -for sure- wasn't Kenma.

Before you could scold him for not warning you, he pressed a raunchy kiss to your jawline and pulled you in for a firm hug. You shudder, unprepared, and cautiously eyeing the back of that chair to make sure you had not just critically embarrassed yourself in front of some famous athlete.

Kuroo often had members of serious leagues over, sometimes for PR, sometimes only because he was a cool-people magnet.

"Shhh- it's just Bokuto," He grinned into your shoulder with a giggle, and for the life of you, you couldn't figure out what was so damn funny, "We're playin' some games."

That wasn't as relieving as his tone would indicate.

Bokuto was a topic between you for a few reasons you were too tired to mull over, right now.

With another shiver, perishing the thought of your 'third' talks, you pushed him softly away.

After lending you the shirt you wanted -because he always gave you what you wanted- you chose some PJ pants to wear for as long as Bokuto decided to stay over, and left once again to go wash the day off.

The idea that he might leave while you were in the shower was not reality. It wasn't much of a bother, because something about his vague form in the dark kept you feeling lighter, out of curiosity.

You slipped under the covers next to Kuroo's leg.

Clean, and cool, and tired. You didn't even reach for your phone. The lamps were on. No alarm set. Kuroo was chatting quietly to Bokuto. Their controllers were clicking. Your body kept perfectly still as you began to fall asleep. 19 hours. Of work.

You only stirred at the feeling of closeness, new and slow, on your other side.

It was a passive, warm, sort of presence. Their conversation then kept you from falling immediately back asleep.

"It's fine, dude!" Bokuto winces, realizing his own volume in the process of it coming out of his mouth. That was from your left. You shift to your right side, closer to your partner.

He's quieter, as he clarifies, "I still like hangin' out."

They were still playing, just further away from the screen.

"Maybe- uh, some other time?"

There's no response to him; only the soft sound of their fighting game. It starts to follow a rhythm of noise that lulls you back down, but you feel a hand massaging your hip.

It was impossible to mask anything with all the sleep still hanging over you. Your thighs squeezed, twitchy, and you took a short breath in.

Your gasp was not loud, but the way it stilled them made it feel that way.

"You awake, babygirl?"

That pet name was reserved for sex only-- it jumpstarts your heart. What was he playing at?

Your eyes open, barely, in a firm inspection of his face.

There was a tiny squint at the corner of his eyes. He was trying not to smile. When Bokuto looked up at him, basically asking for guidance, you put it all together.

He was scheming. This was no accident; Kuroo wasn't the type of guy to attract coincidence. Most everything he did was on purpose because he crafted it so.

"You weren't awake for all of that, were you?"

His thumb prods, firm, into your hip joint.

When you try to roll over on your back, flustered at his tone, his touch, you bump into Bokuto's knee. He must've shifted closer. You didn't know what to say-- their exchange was still vague.

His chuckle at your slight panic makes you tense.

"That'd be pretty embarrassing-," Bokuto seethes at the idea, his strong chest filling up even more. His little strangled groan, barely covered by a false cough, doesn't go unnoticed, "Not gonna lie."

You're sandwiched between them.

You need to keep your arms squeezed in because they had completely commandeered the mattress space. Your guest felt a little guilty, looking down at you, so he attempted to make things better.

Bokuto slid further down, under your covers-- you scooted closer to your boyfriend, your cheek squished into his hip.

He remained still, like he doesn't intend to... participate.

"Why don't you tell me about work, hm?"

He's taking the roll of a sentient brick wall, instigating, here and there. Your brow furrows, and you have to glance from Kuroo's genuine interest to the wild animal he invited into your apartment. Right into your bed.

No doubt Kuroo told his friend that you don't take well to the spotlight, and they're doing all the theatrics on purpose to get a reaction out of you.

"You- you don't want to hear about my shift--," You shudder.

You suppress a squeal at Bokuto's rough palm. It found part of your exposed belly, where your shirt had lifted, as a result of your squirming.

It reminds you of the rant you had gone on, the last time you talked about how bad you wanted to take both Kuroo and Bokuto. Maybe, in the safety of your relationship, and still whisked away post-orgasm, you had been overzealous with lustful desires.

Kuroo acts like you're being ridiculous. He sighs, too candid, "Of course I wanna hear- you always tell me."

His hand started rubbing your scalp, reassuring, and he tilted his head down at you.

"I look forward to it."

So soft, and sweet, and considerate. You sink, a little, and think about apologizing-

That big hand slid up and firmed right under your bare chest, "Ohh, I wanna hear about it, too!"

You wince away from Bokuto's intense eye contact-- you can't even look this man in the face, or keep your composure with his hand on your tummy. Forget about- What all did you say? Let him destroy you?

The weight of his dense body made the bed shift deeper in his favor, not Kuroo's. He was more than capable of destruction.

"Really?" You sigh, breathless.

Kuroo shimmied down to your side, at last, but it came with him stripping all of you of the blankets.

"Well, he can ask the questions," Bokuto leaned further over you, a new smell, a new kind of intensity.

His brow finally lowered to something more relaxed, his quick eyes bouncing around your somewhat covered body. A thumb, you're not sure whose, brushed your nipple and you flinched up towards him. The two worked in tandem to get you cozied up that way.

Finally, a hand that you know is Kuroo's, grabbed your chin to bring you in for a kiss. Bokuto watched, impatient, fully palming your chest.

Kuroo's mellow, deep voice brushes your lips, not quite done with kissing you, "D'ya mind if he gets a little taste while you take me through it?"

He was dumb, and hot, and enthusiastic-- the kind you might not want to date, but would make for a fun time. You trust that they talked about it. You trust that Kuroo knows you enough at this point, and will stop things if they get too out of hand. You're into it by now.

"I don't mind," You barely get out before he takes your mouth hostage again.

Bokuto, though clumsy, and heavy-handed and overexcited at the best of times, still made for a welcome change.

"Ohh- fuck, f-uck-!"

His tongue lapped enthusiastically at your soaked, sensitive cunt. Kuroo kept one of your legs to himself, holding it casually, with a lazy smile across his face.

"Mmm, does'he feel good, babygirl?" His words were a warm, confident purr against your hairline.

Kuroo typically was slower, kind of went at his own pace, when he went down on you. He liked talking while he did this sort of thing.

Bokuto sucked a soft, wet kiss to your clit before pressing the flat of his tongue all the way down, then right back up. He carried no intention of keeping anything 'toned down,' for the sake of romance. He just wanted you to cum, as fast as possible.

You gasped, nails scratching hard against his forearms.

"Yes-y-es, ah-h-!"

He hummed, approval- if you had to put a connotation to it, fingers firming around your throat, "Good, good. Now tell me about your day."

Your noncompliant whine, though realistically earned and downright adorable to him, was not what he asked for. He rested the side of his face onto his fist and sighed, pouty, at you.

"Hmmmm," Bokuto's interjection buzzed against you-

"M-mnh!"

"You two are, like, so cute," His head popped up for a second, his fingers grazing over your entrance, instead while he addressed his friend, "Good for you guys."

Kuroo grinned. "Thanks, buddy."

Their relaxed, apathetic conversation lit fire-y chills down your arms. Kuroo slid a heavy palm down to your wrist, smooth and controlled.

Sure, he was experimental most of the time, but this was a big first for both of you. You assumed he might tread on the more cautious side. Did he have everything so planned out that he didn't feel protective, or conservative with the information he gave, at least?

"Where's my recap, babygirl?" He, again, sighs at you. It's chock-full of wistful attitude.

"I-, I, I-- hh-oh-! Oh, my gosh--," Tears pricked your the corners of eyes.

Maybe Bokuto was really good at giving head, and Kuroo knew it? That's why he was forcing you to split your mind?

His tongue was just faster- the right pressure you needed, the right mix of messy and careful, quick and slow. His nose bumped your clit as he really got his face in it.

"Awww," Kuroo cooed at you.

The smile on his jaw faded every time he saw you looking at him. What an actor. He wasn't cut out to be so cold but he sure loved to pretend, especially for an audience.

"You better not cum, princess. I promised Koutarou he could try that pretty pussy out tonight."

His threat was so toneless, you took a few seconds of empty, clueless staring to understand him.

'Don't cum' didn't match up with his soft lips, sucking on your clit again. You felt him smile.

"Mm-!" You went to push him off of you, because you were way too close, "Bokuto- pl-ease--,"

"Shhh, baby. Call him Koutarou," He snickered at you.

Your fingers had barely reached his stiff, frosted tips before Kuroo intercepted them. His longer digits possessively laced through the webs of yours.

But he didn't take them back, like you expected him to. He set your hand on the back of Bokuto's head, pulling him in, encouraging him to stay right there--

"Mmmh," He moaned, obedient, relaxing against you.

His strong arms pulled at your hips. It shoved you right to the edge and there was nothing left to stop the momentum.

You squeaked out a panicked sound, and now that Kuroo wasn't holding your leg open, you squeezed his head between your thighs, panting, begging for a break. It didn't help to move him.

"A-aah-!"

Kuroo couldn't help but grin at your conflicted bliss and despair. It was, after all, evidence that you wanted to be good for him.

You were a trembling mess as you came down, muttering-, "N-no-, nono- I wasn't-- ah-hm, Koutarou!!"

Though Kuroo let your hand slip out from under his, his own was still affectionate and in place, tangled in the roots of his hair to keep him there.

It sounded wet, what he was doing to you.

You flinched, moaning and squirming at the overkill, but didn't dare grovel. Kuroo liked it too much. You'd be digging a deeper hole if you gave him the chance to tease.

Though overstim was his favorite torture on you, he couldn't be bothered to punish you for long after that. You tried so hard not to cum, and you were just too cute, so you got an automatic pass.

His palm slid away after he got his fill. Bokuto came up, practically drowning, but happy about it.

"You've gotta teach me that, sometime," Kuroo rolled onto his back and put hands behind his head. He was so hard, and it was laughably obvious through his shorts, but he made no moves to palm himself. Maybe he was trying something out?

His thigh prodded at yours, back and forth real slow, as a grounding sensation for you.

Bokuto licked his lips, wiped his face, and peered down at you like a meal, "How's tomorrow morning work?"

You were shaking like a leaf.

"Or--," He smirked, a little toothy and crooked at the solid number he had already done on you, "Fuck. What about right now?"

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco @megapteraurelia

my masterlist. more haikyuu

♡ notes: i can't PROMISE part 2 bc i've realized i be letting ppl down too much not delivering those. you're welcome to ask tho

♡ (i love getting inbox notifs) lmk what you thought: inbox

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homunculus-argument · 9 months ago

Text

Huh. I figured out a way to solve a language issue that I had in The Book I'm Not Writing, that clears out some tangles that I hadn't really even thought of solving. Language barriers and different writing systems.

The first draft of the book featured two languages: The language spoken by the imperialist 'elite classes', and the common tongue spoken by the common people. It was a plot point that the protagonist - who was shipped to the Empire when he was 10 years old - learns to speak both of them fluently, but speaks Imperial like a finely educated nobleman and common like the lowest ranks of street thugs, and distinctly in the dialect of the slums of one specific city. But having a story with two clearly defined languages with no overlap between them started a lot of problems that distratcted from the plot, so I decided to discard that, and decided to just go with them being different dialects.

And just now it occurred to me that almost all the "lost in translation" sort of plot points that I did need the bilingual setting for were about writing, and that I could just resolve this by having two different writing systems for the (different dialects of) the same language. Like perhaps Imperial script is much like written chinese, featuring elegant, sophisticated, elaborate characters that can depict a number of different things, and the Common script is more like finnish, written phonetically with consistent sound for each letter - inelegant but practical, so one always knows how to spell a word they've only heard in speech, or how to pronounce a word they've only seen in writing.

The protagonist - being a baron - can read and write Imperial fluently, but having learnt the common dialect only from the stray boys he would sneak out to play with as a kid, cannot read Common script at all. So while he can fluently code-switch between speaking, standing and conducting himself like a baron, and moving and talking exactly like a Brethage slum stray, there is literally no way that he could fake being perfectly fluent in Imperial.

So to people who are on the upper end of the "lower caste" he does seem to be exactly as he seems - a stray lunatic who talks mad shit, occasionally claims to be a baron, but demonstrably could not read or write to save his life. But for someone who is familiar with the ways and etiquette of the nobility, seeing the Famously Batshit Foxtrap-Todd just casually code-switch and suddenly know exactly how to wear a rains banquet coat, properly pour tea, and be able to fluently read and recite poetry written in classic formal Imperial, would be as wtf-worthy as hearing a horse suddenly spontaneously start to speak.

#writing

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ateezscupid · 5 months ago

Note

Idol Yeosang x reader smut Takes place after a fan meet where she has a tear in her clothing

─── 𝗡𝗗𝗔.

warnings ✩ FLUFF&SMUT, EVENTUAL SMUT!! fem!reader, soft dom!yeosang, sub!reader, idol au, there is a SHIT TON of sexual tension before anything actually happens, virgin!reader, fingering (f receiving), oral (f), unprotected sex, praise, light choking, relationship not established, idol x fan basically, YOU'LL GET A WARNING BEFORE THE SMUT HAPPENS.

word count ✩ 6,52k (i know i'm so sorry)

tags ✩ @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @desirehorizon @tangerineastronaut

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST

NOTE !! Much longer than I had planned for it to be, but don't worry, there is smut. This has been in my drafts for well over a year. had to get it out the way, LOL.

After what felt like forever, you finally got the chance to meet Ateez at a fan-meet. You've seen so many videos of Atiny's reactions to seeing them in person, but nothing prepared you for the real thing. The moment you saw them, your heart skipped a beat, and your palms grew sticky with excitement. You had rehearsed what you'd say a hundred times in the mirror, but now, face-to-face with your favorite member, Yeosang, your mind had gone utterly blank.

You wanted to look pretty. You had picked out the perfect outfit weeks ago—a long-sleeve, off-white crop top, a short black pleated skirt, black sheer tights, black heels, and a small red shoulder bag as an accessory. You didn't think it was too much. It was a simple outfit! But as soon as you saw Yeosang standing there, his eyes scanning the room, you felt like you were dressed for a wedding, not a meet and greet.

As they went back to their seats and lines started forming, you held your little photocard book in your hands, eyes switching between the members. Your gaze was mostly spent on Yeosang. You felt like you were in a trance. Your heart was racing, but you had to snap out of it.

You took your time with each member, making friendly conversation and sharing brief but meaningful moments, yet Yeosang remained a blurry figure in the corner of your mind. The anticipation grew as the line inched closer to where he sat. His gentle smile and soft laughter from the interactions before yours echoed in your ears, fueling your nerves.

And finally, you were here. You sat across from him and smiled, sitting the book on the table. Yeosang looked up, and his eyes met yours, and for a split second, it felt like the entire room had stopped spinning. He was even more breathtaking in person. His smile grew wider as he took your book into his hands. The gentle way his fingers grazed the pages made your cheeks burn.

"H-Hi," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. Yeosang looked up from the book, his eyes meeting yours again, and you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body. He had the most mesmerizing smile, his eyes lighting up with genuine warmth.

"Your outfit looks great," he said, his voice as smooth as honey. It took you a second to realize he was referring to your outfit, and the compliment left you feeling flustered.

"Thank you! Um, I-I wanted--um,"

"Are those your photocards?" Yeosang asked, nodding at the book. You nodded, feeling your cheeks grow hotter. "You have quite a collection," he said with admiration, flipping through the pages. Your eyes followed his every move, watching as his thumb traced over the images of the members, pausing briefly at his own.

Some photocards had signatures from the other members. All but Yeosang's. Without being asked, he grabs the pen beside him and signs the empty card. You watched as the ink danced across the card, his signature neat and confident.

"Thank you." you smiled, trying to compose yourself. Yeosang's eyes looked up from the book, meeting yours again. There was something in his gaze that made you feel seen, like he was really looking at you, not just at a fan in line.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I noticed you've been eyeing me all night. Is there something you want to say?"

"I-I have-? I'm so sorry, this is like -- my first time going to one of these things so I just…I-I'm nervous. I didn't mean to stare," you stuttered, feeling your cheeks blaze with embarrassment. Yeosang chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"It's okay," he assured you, his voice still soft. "I don't mind. In fact, I'm flattered. But, tell me, which member is your favorite?"

"You," you blurted out without thinking, your eyes widening in horror. The words hung in the air for a beat too long before you could scramble to recover. "I mean, I like all of Ateez, but if I had to pick, I guess I've always had a soft spot for… you." Yeosang's smile grew into a full-blown grin, his eyes gleaming with delight.

He leaned in closer, and for a second, you thought he was going to tease you about it, but instead, he said, "You know, you're the first one to answer that question so honestly." His words sent a warm wave through you, and you couldn't help but blush even more.

You made a weird, stuttering noise, your face feeling hotter than a sunburn. "Re-really?"

Yeosang nodded, still smiling. "Really. Most fans are shy about it, but I like your honesty." He leaned back in his chair, giving you a moment to collect your thoughts. The silence grew heavier, and you felt your palms start to sweat.

You shudder, pushing your hair behind your ear. "T-That's--thank you. Or--you're welcome-? I-I don't know w-what to say."

Yeosang's grin softens, his eyes looking into yours. "No need to be nervous," he says gently. "I'm just as human as you are."

You nod. "Can I say something that's--I don't know, it may be corny.." you sniffle. "I always thought that if I went to these, the idol would get this big crush on me and they'd want me to meet them after to sign an NDA or something." You chuckle a bit after saying it and then pause.

Why. Why would you say that-?! Now he's going to think you're one of those crazy, obsessive fans! Panic starts to set in, but before you can apologize, Yeosang laughs. It's a light, airy sound that makes you feel less like you're about to hyperventilate.

"Where'd you get that from?" he asks, amusement dancing in his eyes. You shrug, trying to play it off.

"Just, you know, fan fantasies, fansites," you reply with a forced chuckle. "I-Is it not true-?"

He narrows his eyes, still grinning. "I can't say. It's an NDA after all." The mischief in his tone made you laugh, the tension in the air dissipating slightly. You felt a bit more at ease, the nervousness giving way to a genuine connection.

"Why do you ask? You had to have brought it up for a reason." he chuckled. "Did you want one? An NDA?"

You truly couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "N-No!" You blurt out, your heart racing. "It was just a random thought. I-I don't expect anything like that, I just--"

"Did you?" He teases, raising an eyebrow playfully. His eyes sparkle with humor, and for a moment, you forget where you are.

"I-I mean-" you glance around. Other people were getting up. Your time was ending quickly. "It was just a joke. A bad one."

Yeosang narrowed his eyes once more before tilting his head. "You're gonna be around here for a while, right? Maybe we can talk more after the fan-meet ends?" His question hung in the air, hopeful and casual, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Your eyes widened. "R-Really?" You stuttered, trying to keep your voice from squeaking. He nodded, his smile never wavering. "H-How do I find you, I-"

"My number is on the back of the photocard." Yeosang said, handing the book back to you. You took it, your hands trembling slightly. He had actually given you his number? This had to be a dream.

But it wasn't. The fan-meet was real, and so was the warmth in his eyes as he spoke to you. You nodded, trying to keep your cool, even though your insides were doing somersaults. "Thank you," you managed to say, your voice a bit steadier.

It had been a few hours after the fan meet. You had been staring at his contact for the entire time. Should you text him? Was it really his number? You bit your lip, contemplating your options. You had his autograph and a promise of a conversation, but was it too much to hope for more? You decided to wait. The excitement of the fan meet was still buzzing through your veins, and you didn't want to ruin it with a potentially embarrassing text.

Then, your phone buzzed. You opened your messages and saw a text. From…Yeosang's number. "Hey. This is the girl from the fan-meet right?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly typed back, "Yes, it's me!" You couldn't believe it. He had actually reached out.

"I hope you're not too tired," Yeosang's message read. "But if you're still up for it, would you like to grab some ice cream?"

Your heart raced as you read the message. Yeosang was asking you out?! You reread the text, making sure it wasn't a typo or a prank. But as you looked at the screen, you saw the message was still there.

"Yes, I'd love to," you replied, trying to keep your excitement in check. You didn't want to come off too eager, but the thrill of his invitation was almost too much to handle.

"Great! There's a café not far from here that has amazing ice cream. Do you know where it is?" Yeosang's text was prompt as if he had been waiting for your response.

"No, but I can totally find it," you replied, feeling the butterflies in your stomach take flight. You quickly Googled the café's name and location, your fingers trembling with excitement. "I'll be there in 10 minutes!"

And in ten minutes, you had arrived. The cafe was empty besides for Yeosang and the barista. The walls were plastered with polaroids of past customers and a chalkboard menu that listed exotic flavors like matcha mint and honey lavender. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, but your heart was too busy doing somersaults to notice.

Yeosang sat at a corner booth, sipping from a cup, his eyes scanning over the room. When they met yours, he stood up with a smile, waving you over. "Hi," he said, his voice softer than you remembered. You couldn't believe that the same person who had been performing on stage earlier was now standing in front of you, in a simple white t-shirt and black jeans.

You took a deep breath, trying to play it cool, and slid into the booth across from him. "Hi," you replied, your voice barely a whisper. He laughed, a sound that made your heart flutter.

"You don't have to be so nervous," he said, setting down his coffee cup. "I'm just a person who likes ice cream."

You nodded, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. "I know, I just…" You paused, searching for the right words. "This is all so surreal."

Yeosang leaned in slightly, his eyes holding yours. "I get it. But we're just two people sharing a sweet treat, okay?"

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. The tension in your shoulders eased a bit. You ordered your ice cream, going for the Homerun Ball—his favorite, you remembered from a past interview. Yeosang's eyes lit up when he saw your choice.

"Good call," he said, his smile widening. "It's my go-to when I'm stressed."

The barista brought over two dishes of ice cream. Yeosang's was the same as yours. You had chosen a more modest amount of chocolate filling, but the sight of his treat made you reconsider your choice. He noticed your gaze and chuckled.

"You can always ask for more later," he said, twirling a spoonful of ice cream in your direction. "You know, for research."

You laugh, feeling the nervousness dissipate. As you both dig into your Homerun Balls, the conversation starts to flow more naturally. Yeosang tells you about his favorite childhood memories with ice cream, and you share stories of your first Ateez concert, the thrill of the lights and the music, and how you felt when you saw them live for the first time. His eyes light up as he listens, and you feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

The café's soft jazz music plays in the background, and the occasional clinking of spoons against bowls fills the air. You take a moment to appreciate the quiet, intimate setting. The world outside seems to melt away, leaving only the two of you in this cozy little bubble.

"So, tell me more about your favorite member," Yeosang says, his spoon hovering over his ice cream. You feel a blush creep up your neck as you realize he's referring to himself.

"Well, he's really sweet. And kind. And talented," you start, your voice growing more confident as you speak. Yeosang nods, his eyes never leaving yours, making you feel as if you were the only person in the room. "But it's more than that. It's how he looks at the crowd when he performs, like he sees every single person, really sees them. It's like he's singing just for me."

You pause. That sounded a bit…sasaengy. "B-But, y'know, thousands of people. He's not only singing for me! Just, like, a metaphor or something." You laugh nervously, hoping he didn't think you were too crazy.

Yeosang nods, his eyes still on yours. "I know what you mean. That's why we do what we do. To make everyone in the crowd feel seen." He smiles warmly. "But, it's nice to hear that you feel connected."

"Yeah." you chuckle a bit. "He's also cute. No, I mean, you're all cute. It's just--it's your voice, Yeosang. It's soothing, and when you dance, it's like watching poetry in motion." You blush deeper, realizing you've probably said too much. But Yeosang just smiles, looking genuinely touched by your words.

"Thank you," he says, his voice sincere. "That means a lot to me."

You nod, taking a bite of your ice cream to hide your blushing cheeks. The sweetness of the chocolate is a welcome distraction from the heat in your face. As you savor the taste, Yeosang watches you, his gaze curious.

"Did you wanna ask more questions?" you giggle. "You're staring at me as if you wanted to ask me something else."

Yeosang's cheeks tinge pink. "Well, I was wondering if you had any questions about, you know, the industry or anything."

"Not really…" you say, trying to play it cool despite the excitement bubbling inside you. "But if it's okay, I've always wondered…what's the most challenging part of being an idol?"

Yeosang pauses for a moment, considering your question. He takes a bite of his ice cream, and you can see his mind working behind those beautiful eyes. "Hmm," he says, "I guess it's the constant pressure to be perfect. To perform, to look good, to make everyone happy. It's a lot to handle sometimes."

You nod, feeling a pang of empathy. You had never thought of it that way before. You had always seen idols as these untouchable beings who lived glamorous lives, but here he was, opening up about the challenges that came with it.

"Yeah, I can imagine that must be really tough," you say, your voice gentle. Yeosang nods, his eyes searching yours as if looking for understanding. "But you guys are all so amazing at what you do. It's easy to forget that you're human too."

He looks down at his ice cream for a moment before looking up and smiling. "Thanks for that," he says, his eyes warm. "It's nice to be reminded every once in a while."

"Of course." You reply, your eyes never leaving his. "I mean, it's just… I've been a fan for so long, and I've seen how hard you all work."

He just…smiles, his eyes examining your features, looking you up and down. "I don't mean to throw us off-topic, but you're very beautiful."

Your heart stops, and your spoon clatters against your bowl. Did he just…? "Yeosang," you whisper, trying to keep your cool. "I-I'm just a fan. I'm not--"

He holds up a hand to stop you. "You're not just a fan to me right now," he says, his voice earnest. "You're a person I've been enjoying getting to know."

If you weren't so paranoid of him being weirded out by you, you would've jumped across the table and pounced on him. But you managed to keep your cool, mostly. You felt your cheeks burning up like a furnace as you looked away, trying to compose yourself. "Really?" you murmured, feeling the heat of his gaze.

"Yes, really," he said, his voice a gentle caress. "You have this…glow about you. It's hard to ignore."

"A-And--you think--I'm beautiful-?" You had to repeat it to believe it. You felt like you were going to pass out.

"I do," Yeosang said, his voice firm but still gentle. "You're really attractive."

"Oh my god," you exhaled softly. The noise sounded too much like a moan, but you were so blanked out to even notice. You felt your cheeks burning up and your heart racing faster than ever. Was this really happening? Yeosang thinks you're beautiful?

"Thanks," you murmur, your eyes flickering up to meet his before darting away again. The room felt so much warmer, the air thick with unspoken tension. You took a bite of your ice cream to distract yourself, the coldness soothing your burning cheeks. The chocolate filled your mouth, but the sweetness was lost in the rush of your thoughts.

He was still looking at you and you fought with everything in you not to jump across the table and pounce on him. "I don't know what to say," you admitted, your voice shaking.

"It's fine." He turned around, grabbing a bag that you didn't notice before. He was reaching for something but you couldn't tell what it was. "I know it's a lot to take in. But I just wanted to tell you. You seem like someone special." He finally pulled out a piece of paper. He slid it toward you. It was face down.

No way this was what you thought it was.

Yeosang slid the paper closer to you, and you took it with trembling fingers. You couldn't believe what was happening. You looked up at him, and his expression was earnest, his eyes searching yours. "What's this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't say anything. He only smiled. You flipped it around and read it. It was an NDA.

An NDA.

A literal Non-Disclosure Agreement.

You stared at it blankly, your jaw hung. Was he serious? Your eyes shot up to meet his, and his expression didn't waver. The corners of his mouth twitched with a hint of mischief.

"If you don't want to, you don't have t-"

"OF COURSE I ACCEPT!?" You squealed before you could stop yourself. Yeosang's grin grew wider, the mischief in his eyes glittering like stars. He leaned back in his seat, looking more relaxed than you had ever seen him. "But why me?" you managed to ask, trying to keep the excitement from your voice.

"Like I said: you're really fucking pretty. You sat here and treated me like a human and not like some sort of object. And at the fan meet I thought you were really pretty. Plus, your sense of humor is…surprising." Yeosang said, his cheeks flushing slightly. "But let's keep this between us, okay?" He nodded towards the NDA.

"Uh huh, yeah," you nod, already digging through your bag trying to find a pen. You found one and signed the NDA as fast as you possibly could, your heart racing. Yeosang watched you with amusement, his smile never leaving his face.

"W-What now? I-I've never signed one of these before-"

"You go home with me." Yeosang said, his voice still low. You stared at him, the words echoing in your ears. He couldn't be serious, could he?

"Yeosang. I can't express how excited I am right now." You whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation. He nodded, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He stands and grabs his bag, leaving money on the table and holding his hand out for you to grab.

You took his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch, and allowed him to lead you out of the café into the cool evening air. The street outside was quieter than you had expected, with only a few people strolling by. You looked up at him, his height making you feel safe and protected. "Is this…are we really doing this?"

He nods and you wasted zero time hugging his arm, walking out with him as he guides you down the street. The cool night breeze brushing against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat coming from his side. "Yeah," he says, his voice low and calm. "This is happening."

You walk for a few minutes before Yeosang stops in front of a black sedan. The driver opens the door for you and you slip inside, Yeosang following closely. The car is plush and smells faintly of his cologne. You're pretty sure your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

As the car pulls away from the curb, Yeosang turns to you with a gentle smile. "I know this might seem weird," he says, "but I wanted to make sure you felt comfortable."

You nod, your heart racing a mile a minute. "I-I trust you," you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel. The NDA still felt like a weight in your pocket, a reminder of the surreal situation you've found yourself in.

Yeosang's smile grows a little wider, and he nods. "Good," he says, his eyes holding yours for a moment before looking away. You both sit in silence as the car drove back to his apartment. The anticipation is palpable, and your heart feels like it's going to explode. You've always dreamed of this moment, but you never thought it would be so…real.

When you both made it back to his apartment, he took his time with you. He allowed you to eat whatever you set your eyes on. You felt like a kid in a candy store, but with less sugar and more nervousness. Yeosang was a perfect host, making sure you felt comfortable and at ease. The apartment was sleek and modern, with a touch of personal taste that was unmistakably his. You noticed the little things—a book of poetry on the coffee table, a guitar in the corner of the living room, and a few stray polaroids that had escaped their frame and scattered across the floor.

While you were ransacking his kitchen, you heard him get up and walk in behind you, standing behind you and placing a hand on the counter. "Did you find what you wanted?" he asked, his voice warm and -- you were definitely staying the night.

You turned around, biting your lip, trying to hide your excitement. "I did, thanks." You said, trying to keep your voice steady. Yeosang's hand reached out to grab a water bottle from the fridge, his sleeve riding up slightly, revealing his toned forearm. You swallowed hard. "Do you want anything?"

He squints, opening the water bottle. You could tell he was fighting with himself. Whatever he wanted to say definitely wasn't family friendly. "You want me to be honest?" his eyes twinkling with mischief and you nod.

"You." Yeosang says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I want you."

SMUT BELOW THIS.

Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn even hotter. You couldn't believe what you just heard. Your heart was pounding so loudly you could hear it in your ears. "Y-You do?" you stuttered, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Why do you think I gave you the NDA?" Yeosang stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. The tension in the room grew thicker, the air crackling with a new kind of electricity. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts.

"Y-Yes," you finally managed to say, your voice barely a whisper. "But I thought we were just having ice cream." Which was a goddamn lie. In all honesty, you had been fantasizing about his hand son your bare skin since the second you walked into the cafe.

Yeosang leaned in closer, his breath tickling your neck. "We can still have ice cream," he murmured, his hand reaching for the fridge again, pulling out another pint. "But I thought maybe we could have it in a more…comfortable setting." He nodded towards his bedroom.

"Yeosang," you breathe out his name, your voice trembling with a mix of excitement and nerves. You hadn't anticipated this happening so soon, but here you are, standing in his kitchen with the promise of a night beyond your wildest dreams. He smiles, his eyes never leaving yours as he opens the freezer door. The cold air from inside sends a shiver down your spine, or was it just his proximity?

"Yeah?"

You couldn't stop yourself. You inhaled sharply and pulled him into a kiss before he could react, his body stiffening for a moment before melting into it. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as he kissed you back with a passion that sent your senses reeling. It was everything you had ever dreamed of and more, his lips soft yet firm, his scent intoxicating. You felt like you could stay there forever, lost in his embrace.

He grabs the underside of your legs and lifted you up, sitting you on the countertop. Your heart races as he kisses you deeper, his hands moving up to cradle your face. The coolness of the marble countertop is a stark contrast to the heat that's building between the two of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling his heart thumping against your chest.

Your fingers grasped at his shirt, pulling him closer as you deepened the kiss. His hands roamed up your back, sending shivers down your spine. This was it—you were kissing Yeosang, your ultimate bias. The reality was so overwhelming, you could feel your knees go weak. He must've felt it too, because he tightened his grip, holding you firmly against the counter.

He grabbed the hem of your skirt and slid it up, his hands brushing against your skin and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You gasped into his mouth, your eyes fluttering open for a moment before closing again, lost in the feeling of his touch. He broke the kiss, panting slightly, and looked into your eyes.

He wrapped your legs around his waist and picked you up, walking toward his bedroom. He kicked the door open and threw you on the bed. You squealed, surprised by his sudden action, but also thrilled. The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp in the corner, casting shadows across the bed. You looked up at him, your heart racing, as he took off his t-shirt.

He slid your skirt down your legs, revealing your black lace underwear. You had picked it out with the hope that he would see it tonight, but now that the moment was here, you felt a rush of nerves. Yeosang leaned over you, his eyes dark with desire as he kissed along your jawline and down to your neck. His touch was gentle but firm, leaving you trembling and craving more.

He grabbed your tights and ripped them apart. You were going to say something, but his lips found yours again, and your protest turned into a moan of pleasure. His kiss was hungry, as if he had been starving for this moment. His hands slid up your thighs, his thumbs tracing the edge of your panties. You felt yourself growing wetter by the second, your body begging for more.

You pulled away, panting heavily. "W-Wait," you said, trying to get your bearings. Yeosang stopped, his eyes searching yours for any signs of hesitation. You took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm good," you assured him, your voice shaky. "I just…I need to tell you something."

"What is it, baby?" Oh, that pet name had you wet. You had to force your brain to remember what you had to say.

"I'm…I'm a virgin," you whispered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. You had never talked about this with anyone before, let alone your idol.

"You are?" Yeosang's eyes searched yours, a hint of surprise in them. But instead of pulling away, his expression softened into something gentle, something reassuring. He took a step back, giving you space. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves. "We can take this slow."

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and excitement. The idea of being with him, of sharing this experience with your bias, was both thrilling and terrifying. "Thank you," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Yeosang leaned down, kissing you softly. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he began to explore your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, slipping beneath your panties to tease your sensitive skin. You gasped as his thumb circled your clit, his movements slow and deliberate. The pleasure was almost unbearable, building within you like a crescendo of desire.

"O-Oh my god," you moan, immediately grabbing his wrist and pushing it closer, your eyes rolling back into your head. He chuckled against your mouth, his other hand sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple. The sensation was so intense, you felt your legs tremble and tighten around his waist.

"You're so sensitive," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "It's so sexy." He kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just behind your ear.

He started moving his thumb faster, and the sensation was too much. You could feel an orgasm building deep within you, your body tightening around him. "Yeosang," you gasped out his name, your nails digging into his skin. He seemed to understand what you needed, his touch growing more insistent.

He kissed down your body, leaving a trail of fire along your collarbone and between your breasts. You arched your back, your breath coming in ragged gasps as his mouth found your nipple. His tongue flicked and teased the sensitive bud, sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. Your legs tightened around his waist, urging him closer as you felt yourself getting wetter.

He then kissed down your stomach, moving even further until his mouth replaced his thumb. You gasped as he licked and sucked at your clit, the sensation so intense that you thought you might shatter. Your body was responding to him like a finely tuned instrument, each stroke of his tongue bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

He held your legs apart, his eyes meeting yours, watching for any sign of discomfort. You bit your lip, the pleasure building until it was all you could focus on. And then it crashed over you, your body shuddering as you climaxed. Yeosang didn't stop, though, continuing to flick and suck on your clit until you were writhing beneath him, begging for mercy. He made sure your legs were open, pushing his face deeper.

"Y-Yeo-Yeosang!" You grabbed a handful of his hair, feeling a finger prodding at your entrance. The sensation was too much, and your body clenched around it. "O-Oh my god," you whimpered, your voice tight with pleasure. His eyes flicked up to yours, his mouth curling into a smug smile before he added a second finger, stretching you gently. You felt yourself getting wetter, the slickness of your arousal making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.

"F-Fuck-" Not a single thought was running through your head. You had lost all coherence as Yeosang's tongue swirled around your clit and his fingers worked their magic inside you. It was as if your brain had melted away, leaving only pure, unadulterated pleasure in its wake. His eyes remained on yours, watching as you reached new heights, savoring every twitch and gasp that passed your lips.

You felt something bubbling in your stomach and you sat up, trying to form words. "Yeosang," you breathed. "I-I'm--"

You squealed and fell back, a large amount of liquid spilled out of you, your thighs instinctively closing around his head. He didn't stop. Instead, he let you squirt, fingering you even harder, his tongue pressing firmly against your clit as he lapped up the juices that were flowing like a river.

"O-Oh my fucking-" You couldn't even finish your sentence as Yeosang's mouth worked its magic, your body pulsing around his fingers.

He looked up at you, his eyes hooded with lust as you came again, even harder than before. He slowly pulled back, licking his lips as if savoring the taste of you. "You taste amazing," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

He pulls away, spreading your legs again and undoing his belt with shaky hands. You can see the outline of his erection through his pants, and you realize that you're not the only one affected by this. Yeosang's breathing is heavy, and his eyes are filled with a hunger that sends a thrill through your body.

"I'll be as gentle as can be, princess," he whispers, pulling his jeans off and kicking them aside. He pushed his boxers down, his cock springing free. You felt a brief moment of terror—it was bigger than you had ever seen. But his gentle smile and the tenderness in his eyes reassured you. He climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over yours.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. You nod, feeling more ready than you ever have been for this moment. He kissed you again, his hand moving to position himself at your entrance. You feel the tip of him push against you, and you tense up, ready for the pain.

"Relax, baby." he pushed the tip inside and you grabbed his wrist once again, your nails digging into his skin. You felt a sharp pain, but he was right, it was only a pinch. He pushed in slowly, letting your body adjust to his size. You could feel him stretching you, filling you up. His eyes never left yours, his expression one of pure concentration and concern.

"Yeosang," you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to distract yourself from the pressure building inside of you. His eyes searched yours for any signs of discomfort, his own desire barely restrained. He pushed in further, and you gasped as you felt yourself stretching around him. The pain was intense but mixed with the overwhelming need for more.

"You're doing so good for me," he whispers, his voice thick with need as he continues to push inside you. You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan as your body adjusts to the new sensation. Finally, with one final push, he's all the way in, filling you completely.

He began thrusting, slow and steady, watching you intently as he did. You felt your body stretching to accommodate him, and the pain slowly began to recede, replaced by a deep, all-consuming pleasure. Each movement sent waves crashing through you, and you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, your body eager to take all of him in.

You moaned his name, the sound echoing in the quiet room, and he responded by kissing you harder, his hips moving faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper with each thrust. You felt your muscles tightening around him, the tension building to an unbearable level.

You held onto him as tightly as you possibly could, your nails digging into his back as he pushed into you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Yeosang's rhythm grew faster, his breathing more ragged, and you could feel his muscles tense with effort. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, calling you "baby" and "princess" in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

"You're so pretty, so tight," Yeosang murmured, his voice strained as he picked up the pace, his hips slapping against yours. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge again, your walls clenching around him. The pressure built and built until you couldn't take it anymore.

"I-I'm gonna cum again-" you cry out, refusing to let go of him. His face was shoved into your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he moaned, his thrusts growing more erratic. He kissed up your neck, finding your mouth again, his tongue slipping inside in a delicate dance with yours.

The closer you both got, the more passionate it felt, more loving than anything. Yeosang's thrusts grew stronger, and your body responded with a symphony of pleasure. You could feel his muscles tensing and his breaths getting shorter as he neared his climax. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, words of reassurance and passion that only added fuel to the fire burning between you.

"O-Oh my god, I love you," It slipped out. You didn't even notice that you said it. But his eyes widened, and he stopped for a moment, his cock still deep inside you. He stared at you for a second before kissing you again, his tongue pushing past your lips and exploring your mouth like it was a treasure.

"I love you too, baby." He whispered back, and your heart stopped. Did he just say that?

You felt tears prickling in your eyes as he started thrusting again, pushing you closer and closer. Yeosang's eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze only increasing as he felt your love. His movements grew more urgent, his breathing ragged as he neared his peak.

And finally, you came, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over you. Yeosang groaned into your mouth, his own climax following closely behind, filling you up in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He held you tightly, his body shaking with the force of his release, his cock pulsing within you.

Neither of you let go. You both breathed heavily into each other's mouths, your hearts beating so loudly they could have drowned out the world outside. The room was a cocoon of heat and love, a space where only the two of you existed.

"You love me…?" you whispered, voice cracking. The words felt alien on your tongue, yet filled you with a warmth that was as surprising as it was overwhelming.

"I mean," he pants. "You said it first and I… yeah." He kisses you again, softer this time. "I've never felt this way about a fan before." His admission sends your heart soaring, and you realize you've been holding your breath.

"…So…what--what are…what is this-?" You stuttered, trying to make sense of his words. Your heart felt like it was going to explode from your chest.

Yeosang pulled out of you gently, his eyes still locked on yours. "This is us, baby," he murmured, stroking your cheek. "We're more than just a fan and an idol now."

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jetblack4realz · 5 months ago

Text

beach days - jake "hangman" seresin

again, just clearing drafts. i'm not in love with this, but it's cute so have fun ig

summary: beach days with the gang lead to you and jake realizing how your relationship has changed. everything is different, but you certainly don't mind.

warnings: none

word count: 2.7k

______________________________________________________________

when maverick told you to show up at the beach in front of the hard deck wearing athletic wear, you didn't know what to expect. you could be conditioning, but that didn't seem like his style. you could be messing around, but you didn't have time for that. all you did know was that his location was strategic - penny was right there to watch as your instructor stripped himself of his shirt and approach the group.

standing next to phoenix in nearly matching sports bras and shorts, you waited for what he'd tell you.

"today, we're playing dogfight football."

half of you cheered and the other half looked confused. you grinned, high-fiving phoenix.

"offense and defense at the same time. boundaries are marked in the sand, hondo will be reffing. for those of you who don't know how to play, just watch the others and try not to drop the ball. rooster, hangman, pick your teams."

the two men grinned, standing next to each other as they surveyed the squad. hangman gestured for rooster to choose first.

"phoenix."

jake grinned. "bronco."

you smirked at phoenix, sending a wink hangman's way as you joined his side. the rest of the teams were chosen and you were quickly thrown into the game.

"bronco, center!" hangman instructed.

"aye, aye captain!" you cheered, propping yourself in front of payback with a grin, your team's foam football resting on your fingertips in the sand. "you ready?"

"ready to kick your ass," he answered. you laughed.

"you wish," you said.

"ready!" hondo yelled. you glanced behind you to see jake as your quarterback with a nice view of your ass. you rolled your eyes as he winked at you. "set!" your vision went underneath you, eying where the ball needed to be for it to make it to him. "hike!"

with a near-perfect throw, the ball was in jake's hands and you were rushing the other team. phoenix had the ball, looking at where to throw it. you ducked out of the way of fanboy's arms, running at rooster who was calling for the ball. coyote was ahead of you though, knocking the man to the side as phoenix eventually decided to just run it for herself.

"y/n you gotta get her!" maverick said, laughing as he was not about to tackle the woman. you booked it across the sand, phoenix moving to dodge you but you jumped forward, effectively knocking her to the ground. you looked up just in time to see jake score.

you jumped up with a cheer, pumping your fists. jake looked at you, running back to your team's side and double high-fiving you excitedly. he whooped, holding your hands in the air for a second before hondo tossed you the ball again.

"those of you who don't know the game, you starting to get it?" maverick called in question. "offense and defense. bronco defended phoenix from scoring and hangman's offense gave them a touchdown. understand?"

there was a vague grumble of agreement.

"you got phoenix?" jake asked with raised brows. you quirked a brow, bouncing the ball between your hands.

"of course i got phoenix," you answered.

he grinned. "do it again darlin'."

"aye aye captain," you said with a mock salute, laughing as you got back into position.

with a yell from hondo again, you tossed jake the ball and dove to the side, keeping fanboy from hitting you. you scrambled to your feet, eyes on phoenix - except it wasn't phoenix as quarterback anymore. it was bradley.

"uh oh."

you quickly switched tactics, running to the end zone, your eyes scanning for jake.

"coyote, all you!" you yelled, pointing at rooster. he began to charge and you continued running. jake was bouncing on his toes, letting your defense cover him for a second. but, he didn't see payback charging from the side.

"hangman! throw it!" you called and his eyes locked on you. he managed to get it thrown just before he got tackled and you braced to catch it.

and of course, you did, immediately turning to score. bob tried to run after you, but it didn't work in time.

"wooh!" you cheered, throwing the ball in the air behind you. jake was at your side in seconds, high-fiving you again.

"nice catch sweetheart," he grinned.

"nice throw," you answered, matching his grin.

the next round continued the same way, but with you as quarterback this time. you thought it'd be easy to get a few throws out to coyote and mav, but it was not. not with phoenix being as persistent as she is. you yelled out as she booked it towards you, just starting to run towards the other side of the makeshift field.

"jake!" you screamed. "freaking cover me, man!"

"just pass me the ball," he offered, a grin on his lips.

"no thanks babe, this one's all me!" you said.

you shrieked as rooster lunged at you, dipping to the side to avoid him. jake was running next to you at this point, just grinning at you. payback appeared out of nowhere and you stopped, ducking behind hangman and letting him take the brunt of the tackle. you laughed as you reached the endzone.

"got it again!"

"no, you didn't," payback said as he stood up, brushing sand off his arms. he pointed across the way and you saw bob on your side with the football in his hands. hondo blew his whistle, pointing to him.

"bob got it!"

"what?" you laughed. rooster whooped, running towards him and lifting the man onto his shoulders. his team cheered as he carried bob around. "lame."

jake circled his arms around your neck from behind, his chin resting on your head. "it's alright darlin', we'll get 'em next time." he surprised you big time with a small kiss to your cheek before he pulled away, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the start line. "come on."

you pulled your hand from his, laughing and pushing his shoulder. "what are you doing?"

"giving you encouragement! if we win you could get more than that," he promised, wiggling his brows.

"oh shut up, seresin. i don't want any of that," you told him with a roll of your eyes, hoping your words covered the light blush that spread across your cheeks.

"mhm, keep telling yourself that bronco," he said, still smirking.

"mav, i wanna switch teams!" you yelled, hand in the air as you smirked yourself. maverick laughed.

"fanboy, switch her."

it got competitive quick.

anytime jake had the ball, you were in front of him, smacking it to the sand. you tried to keep away from your ball, knowing you'd be thrown into the sand if you did. but, sometimes things couldn't be avoided and you ended up covered in sand with hangman in front of you, offering you a hand.

at some point, maverick had wandered off and y'all continued to mess around.

every time jake scored he cheered loudly, pointing at you. "wanna switch again?"

"never!" you yelled, turning to rooster and phoenix to come up with a game plan.

phoenix scored twice, you high-fiving your best friend before sticking your tongue out at the texan across the sand. he rolled his eyes, just getting back into position.

he then won another point, slamming the ball into the sand, the men behind him falling dramatically. you resisted the urge to laugh at the sight. he pointed to you again, but you just flipped him the bird.

"oh come on darlin', don't be like that!"

you flipped him both fingers as you turned to walk away.

"y/n, incoming!" phoenix yelled with a laugh just before you got lifted right out of the air.

"hangman, put me down!" you demanded, pulling at his arms.

"hey rooster!" he called instead. "wanna play chicken?"

bradley laughed, glancing once at phoenix. "sure!"

"wait, no-!" both you and phoenix yelled as you were tossed into the ocean. you gasped for air as you surfaced, repeatedly punching jake in the arm. "what are you doing?"

"come on sweetheart, let's kick their asses," he said with a smirk, holding his hand out to you. you glanced behind you at phoenix, both of you nodding and looking back to your respective boys.

"alright then," you nodded. he gestured for you to circle around and jump on his shoulders, but you took a different route. with one hand on his head and the other on his shoulder, you pulled him down as you jumped, effectively dunking him with your body weight. when he went under, you swung around and sat on his shoulders, making it that much harder to get up.

it seemed like you didn't do much to toughen things for him as he stood up, coughing, his hands on your thighs to keep you stable. you ruffled his dripping hair, pulling it out of his face and then letting it slap back down on his forehead with a laugh.

"you good bagman?" you asked. he patted your thighs as he coughed once more.

"fine, baby, thanks," he said. you laughed, letting him take your hands instead of your thighs to keep you balanced as he waded through the water towards where bradley was trying to breathe again, natasha on his shoulders laughing hard.

"good there bradshaw?" you asked with a chuckle. he reached up, slapping her arm and making her laugh harder. you looked down, squeezing jake's hands twice to get his attention before letting them go. "alright jake, lock in."

"oh don't worry bronco, i have no intentions of losing to rooster," he told you with a grin, peeking up at you best he can without knocking you backwards.

"good," you said.

"ready bronco?" natasha asked, a wicked grin on her lips as she held her hands up.

"go!" you exclaimed, the men beneath you two girls charging.

you and phoenix grappled at each other, trying to upset the other's balance while the boys tried their hardest to knock the other over. you grabbed one of her shoulders with both hands, pushing her sideways.

"kick his leg jake!" you exclaimed, continuing to shove phoenix to the side. you felt jake do just that and bradley stumbled. at that moment, both you and jake pushed them backwards and they went tumbling into the water, earning cheers from you and your fellow aviator.

hangman whooped loudly and you could hear bob and coyote laughing behind you guys. phoenix and rooster reemerged from the water, lighthearted glares in their eyes before they erupted in chuckles themselves.

"again?" you taunted, holding your hands in the air as a taunt.

"nah, i think bob and coyote want in," rooster laughed.

"i don't wanna go against bob!" you exclaimed.

"fine, go against me!" coyote called back, the two men entering the water with wide smiles.

you leaned down to whisper to jake, "you better be sturdy."

he patted your legs. "don't worry darlin', we aren't losing this thing."

you and jake ended the day as the reigning champs of chicken, even managing to convince penny and maverick to contend against y'all, but to no avail. you guys were just that good.

"good game, cowboy," you told him, patting his head as he held his hands up to help you down. you gracefully hopped off from behind him, the man turning to face you once your feet landed in the sand.

"good game, bronco," he replied, grinning. "now since i carried you the whole time, i think i deserve a ride, don't i?"

in a flash, you were underwater, hangman jokingly sitting on your shoulders as you tried to stand up. when you finally reached the surface, the man was tipping backwards, hanging onto you to try to remain upright.

"hangman, get off!" you laughed, pushing his thighs off your shoulders.

"no, you can do this!" he exclaimed, but at this point he was clinging to you more like a piggyback. you laughed again, grabbing his legs so he was more secure and trudging your way out of the ocean. "yes!"

"hangman, why are you making bronco give you a piggyback ride?" maverick asked, a hand on his hip as he watched them with an amused smile.

"because she is a strong, independent woman who can easily give a man a piggyback ride if she wants to," he answered, nodding at the captain. "or if her best friend tells her too."

"yeah, well her best friend is a fatass," you said with a laugh, dropping him on the sand as you moved to collect your keys and phone from phoenix. he stood up, wiping the sand off him as he followed you.

"need a ride?" he asked.

"nah, phoenix is taking me back," you told him as you grabbed your things from said girl.

"well, bradley wants to get chick-fil-a, so if you wanna come you're welcome, but i understand if you just want to go home with hangman," she told you, a look in her eye explaining that you in fact were not welcome to come.

"no thanks," you laughed. you looked back at jake. "hangman, i'd appreciate that ride now please."

"come on sweetheart," he laughed, swinging an arm around your shoulders and walking you to his sweet red 1996 ford f-150. you hopped in the passenger seat as he started up the engine.

"today was fun," you said as he pulled out of the parking lot and started towards your temporary apartments, only a block or so apart. you smiled at him. "thanks for making it fun."

he smiled at you, resting his hand on your thigh again. "i do my best."

there was something different about the way he had been speaking to you recently, the little touches, nicknames, heck he'd even kissed you on the cheek a few times in the last few weeks. he'd always been a flirt, but something in you said that this was different. maybe it's because whatever it was you had with him, it actually felt real.

to test this theory, you grabbed the hand that was still on your knee and held it in yours. he glanced at you and you waited for a response, only seeing the corner of his mouth pull up in a smile and you feel him squeeze your hand twice.

cool. this was okay.

he pulled up to your apartment, parking next to your red bronco. before you could say anything, he had gotten out of the truck and crossed to your side, opening your door for you. he held his hand out and helped you down, giving you a charming smile as he took your hand again. you both walked to your door, you quickly unlocking it but not making any moves to open it yet.

"today was really fun," he said. "i always have a good time with you, y/n."

you loved when he called you by your real name instead of just your callsign.

"i always have a good time with you too, jake," you said, smiling softly.

everything felt different, but a good different. for some reason, it felt like you were finally on the same page. and you were.

he grabbed your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss as he felt you reciprocate. you parted for a moment, readjusting your hands to be around his neck, his on your waist pulling you closer to him as you went in for round two. when you pulled apart next, he rested his forehead on yours.

"wanna come inside?" you asked with a smile. "just to watch a movie or something. make dinner."

"that sounds perfect," he answered, kissing your forehead.

things were different, hangman could feel it. but it was a good thing. it was going to be a lasting thing. and he couldn't wait to start it, kissing your temple from behind as you pushed the door open.

wow, you loved beach days.

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thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you

masterlist!!

#top gun maverick #glen powell #glen powell x reader #glen powell x y/n #hangman x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun imagine #jake hangman seresin

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tahbhie · 5 months ago

Text

How Plot Progression Works—Myths and Facts.

Let me start with a myth.

Last week, a writer approached me with their half-finished draft, unsure how to continue. Apparently, they got writer's block in the middle of the work. For about thirty minutes, we discussed the book freely as if it were a finished and published work.

Then I realized the issue.

☞ The problem?

From the conversation, I noticed that the writer's thoughts and ideas, which they voiced for the book, totally contradicted what they had written.

Their book followed a sequence of events. It was well-calculated, and the plot progression was on point but only to a certain level. I noticed robotic recurrences.

Something like this:

Scene 1— a sudden revelation

Scene 2— an unexpected fight

Scene 3— introduction of a new character

Scene 4— a conflict

Scene 5— another sudden revelation

Scene 6— an unexpected fight

Scene 7— introduction of a new character

Scene 8— a conflict

Meanwhile, all these elements didn't tie to each other in the story. They just performed different roles in each scene and were rendered useless in the next and every other scene that followed.

☞ Why did this happen?

Among other reasons, being extremely rigid with writing advice is a main factor.

Writing advice is great, but don't bend your style to suit the rules; bend the rules to suit your style.

Here's a clearer example of what I'm talking about.

Writing advice often says to keep readers on the edge of their seats within the first five pages, but this doesn't mean introducing unrealistic problems that don't fit your story. For example, introducing a sudden and improbable conflict just to add excitement can disrupt the flow and believability of your plot

During our session, I already understood how to assist, and we were setting our comfortable hours when the writer suddenly said, "I was told to include conflict in the middle of the book, then I ran out of ideas when I got there. I could have added one just a few pages in because I believe it would do well there, but again, I was unsure if that would make sense."

Now, who said conflict can't start a book? When you start your book with a conflict, you just have to ensure that you build towards 'the reason' behind the conflict so your readers can understand.

☞ Should I follow every writing advice with a closed mind?

No, you shouldn't. Remember that you are writing that book because you want to, and your idea was great enough to convince you to actually write. You need to enjoy the process and create what you truly want to create. Follow instructions flexibly.

Now that the myth is out of the way, let's talk about things that make a plot.

➜ Basic plot elements.

Initially, your plot should have the following:

✧ Protagonist ✧

Who are readers following in the story? Make that clear in the first few chapters. If you're writing from a first-person point of view and plan on switching between characters, aim for a maximum of two characters. It becomes clear that those two characters are an important part of the story; hence, they get the privilege to narrate the story from their respective views.

✧ Goals and objectives ✧

What is your protagonist after? Here's one thing you should know: your character doesn't have to know what they want at the beginning of the story. They may be as confused about their life as anyone reading, but as the story unfolds, they find a goal worth reaching and discover the needed strength to reach the goal.

✧ Antagonist ✧

What/Who is standing as a threat? A threat is hell-bent on ruining your protagonist and stopping them from achieving their goals. An antagonist could be an object or a human. It all depends on the concept you aim for. Funny enough, the antagonist could be a lie that starts out seemingly small but ends up being harmful. The rom-com movie "Upgraded" is an example of this concept. The lie the art enthusiast told was the greatest trouble she faced.

✧ Conflict ✧

What are the problems the protagonist faces? Problems can start from anywhere over anything, and you can choose to make them mild and solvable at first while building up to something larger.

✧ Resulting consequences ✧

What happens after the protagonist faces the trouble and tries to solve it? Did they lose anything? Hurt someone? Earn support from people they least expect?

✧ Character arc ✧

How has the journey shaped your protagonist? After going through something they probably never saw coming, how has it changed them? For a timid main character at the beginning of the story, do they finally become brave and display a different side of themselves?

All these are important for a well-rounded story as a whole.

Join the Writers' Universe and connect with like-minded writers.

➜ Secondary plot elements

These elements help you shape the above category.

● Setbacks

Let's use movies to illustrate this. There are certain points where we lose hope for the main character, almost convinced they've lost. We see them at their weakest points, hurt that the antagonist got them good. These moments are the setbacks. The protagonist is made vulnerable.

● Loss

What did the setback cost them? The reason I intentionally labeled this as loss is because to move a plot forward, some things need repairing. Since most loose ends were already from the beginning of the story, adding a fresh loss piques the reader's interest. It doesn't have to be the death of someone. It could be the brutal end of an alliance formed on an emotional scale.

● Break of a new dawn

I just wanted to get creative with the title. This point marks the pivotal change of events, and once again, there's hope for the protagonist as they find solutions to their problems. In this stage, they discover hidden abilities within themselves (this isn't limited to fantasy).

And there you have the important sections of plot progression. But keep these few things in mind. To ensure you're not leaving a huge gap in your plot, try to:

┗→ Introduce elements that work for your story:

It's common to believe something works well simply because it did in your favorite book. You might want to reconsider that with a different mindset.

┗→ Tie elements together:

Of course, this doesn't apply to all, but try to create a link between events in your story. If a fight occurred in a scene, link it to a cause in a few scenes ahead. This can lead to another conflict, this time on a larger scale, without having to introduce something entirely different.

And back to the question that birthed this post:

ᴥ Should conflict come early or not?

It depends on your work, but it can come early. That's not taboo.

There was a movie I watched featuring a female lawyer as the protagonist. The movie started with the kidnap of her only child, and the rest of the scenes drove us to the 'cause,’ then more conflicts, setbacks, and finally resolution. We were also able to explore the character’s personality based on the decisions she took in different emotional scenes.

She tried to keep her calm in some scenes while she just flat-out threw a tantrum in others, but overall, she was a strong woman who was broken by the incidents occurring and then rebuilt. I read a book with the same premise: the main character was a tween who misplaced something precious and decided to go on an adventure to search for it, and that was what the story was built upon.

I always tell writers one thing—own your book. The first draft seems to be the toughest one of its pair, but if you don't allow yourself to freely express your thoughts, there will be no first draft or story at all.

✧✧✧✧

Struggling with any stages of writing? Send me a message, and let's sort it out for a suitable fee.

✧✧✧✧

Do you want to create characters readers are compelled to start a fandom for?

Check out "My Characters and I" extensive coaching session. Understand the secret behind every attractive character. The slots are limited, and this opportunity closes once capacity is reached. Don't miss it; you never know when you’ll stumble upon these golden gates again.

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dollfacefantasy · 8 months ago

Text

LOCK ME DOWN TONIGHT ♡

pairing: ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

summary: seeing how you handle babysitting his nephew gives your boyfriend some ideas about what he wants in the future with you.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, breeding kink, tummy bulge, biting, au obviously lol

a/n: i hope you guys like this one. it's my first time writing for sukuna so i'm still learning. he's kinda ooc here but i scrapped my other draft last minute and i thought this was a cute idea so whatever. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated <3

kinktober slot: day 18 - breeding kink

You make sure to be as quiet as you possibly can while shutting the door to Yuji's bedroom. After an hour of going back and forth and the small boy pleading to stay up with you and your boyfriend downstairs, you'd finally managed to get him to fall asleep.

Padding down the carpeted hallway, you turn the corner and hit the light switch off before descending the stairs. Your socks slide against the hardwood floors of the landing as you hop down the last few steps and then cross the entryway into the living room where your boyfriend waits for you on the couch.

He's leaned back into the corner of the puffy cushions, relaxed as ever in a pair of sweats and a tank top on his upper half. Both of his exposed arms drape over the backing. Upon seeing you, he flashes a lazy grin and runs his fingers through the unkempt hair atop his head.

"You finally get the little brat to go down?" he asks.

You nod and make your way over to him. "No thanks to you," you say as you sit down beside him.

He smirks and lowers one of his muscular arms to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his side.

"You're just such a natural with him. I didn't think you'd need my help," he says, a hint of teasing lacing every word.

Shooting him a playful glare, you scoff and scoot into his lap. "You still could've tried. He's your nephew."

"He calls you his aunt though," he teases. He leans in to nip at your cheek and nose your temple.

The words bring a slight rush of warmth to your cheeks. They're true. The little boy you just put to bed acknowledges you as part of the family just as much as he does his actual uncle. In fact, you were the one to push Sukuna into accepting the offer to babysit tonight. He hadn't wanted to, preferring to spend the evening alone with you all to himself. But integrating yourself into his life mattered to you, so he only protested a little before agreeing.

He notes your reaction to his prior statement, and his smug look reaches his eyes. "Oh come on, don't tell me that has you all flustered," he taunts, "You're too easy."

"Shut up. You said it like that on purpose," you say and pinch his arm.

Grinning at the gesture, he maneuvers the two of you around so that you're on your back and he's above. The tv casts a faint glow over the both of you, the flashing pictures painting the scenery with pale blues and washed-out pinks.

"How'd I say it, babe?" he asks.

"Like you do when you're trying to get me all worked up and stuff," you answer, tracing the tip of your index finger over the tattoos spanning from his shoulder to his arm. Your eyes flit between his piercing eyes and soft lips.

"Is that what you think I'm trying to do?" he says. But before you even get your answer out, he ducks down to pepper kisses along the column of your throat.

Your eyes flutter, a natural response to the feathery touches upon your skin. He always started out like this, tender and gentle, before devolving into his true nature. One of your arms wraps around him, your fingers trailing up the ribbed fabric of his top. The other pushes on his shoulder in a light rebuff.

"Yeah, but we can't," you protest.

"And why not?" he breathes. The puff of air fans over your flesh, chilling the parts wet with his saliva.

"Because 'kuna..." you start, trailing off a bit as he lays more kisses along your carotid artery, "We're supposed to be babysitting. He could come downstairs..."

"He won't," he interjects, "You saw how tired he was. He's out for the night. Plus he's clumsy, I'd hear him coming even if he did get up."

You sigh and bring your hand up to lace through his messy pink locks. He's pretty good at convincing you.

"Why are you so riled up anyways?" you ask in an attempt to give yourself a distraction.

He chuckles against your skin, nipping a mark onto your neck before speaking. "Is it really a mystery?" he asks.

"Yeah. What were you doing while I was upstairs?" you ask playfully.

"It's not that," he says, smirking at your cluelessness. He rolls his hips against one of your thighs and lets you feel the semi hard bulge beneath the cotton of his pants. "It's been all night. Seeing you taking care of Yuji like that, it has me thinking about what it would be like to see you carrying a baby of our own."

Your eyes snap open and look at the ceiling with sudden, wide clarity. You hadn't been expecting that at all. Your mind had been more in the realm of short-term, simpler things. Like scrolling past some porn on his phone or catching sight of a sex scene on the tv. Not the prospect of getting you knocked up.

It's not even that you're opposed to the idea. You just didn't think he would feel this way about it.

He senses your startled reaction and grinds his stiffening length against you again. "You're just so good with him. Can't help it," he mumbles.

"I- um... thanks?" you say timidly, voice still soft and shaky from the affection he's lavishing on your neck.

"Don't be so shy about it. Don't act like you haven't thought about it too," he murmurs.

The plush inner skin of your thighs presses into his sides. That was also true. You had thought of it before. After years of being together, the occasional image of him cradling a sleeping baby or boosting a small child onto his shoulders crossed your mind. You'd just kept them to yourself knowing your boyfriend wasn't exactly the lovey-dovey, wistful daydreams type.

"Yeah... I've thought about it before," you confirm.

"Mhm. That's right," he says. His hips have settled into a continuous rhythm. He rocks them between your legs. You feel the dull bloom of pleasure beginning at your center. "You'd look fuckin' gorgeous full of my baby," he whispers.

Your legs squeeze him tighter as if to draw his body in closer. Your breaths that had already been shallow come out more shuddery. It was silly almost, how hot the simple fantasies of domestic bliss could get you. The image of his large hands splayed across your swollen belly. The thought of his lips kissing over your bump, teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh as they do to every other part of your body. The praises he'd rain upon your figure that expanded to accommodate his spawn.

"Yeah, I know you like that," he murmurs, "So c'mon. Let me try to put a baby in you."

"Tonight?" you squeak.

His hands slide up your sides as he nods. One of his large palms rises to paw at your breast. He gropes the mound, further stirring the arousal brewing within you.

"Yeah tonight," he says, "You feel how hard I am for you, how bad I want it. I don't think we'd have much trouble."

Involuntarily, you whimper. As much as you planned to resist, giving into temptation seemed like the only option now. It's impossible to resist him when he surrounds you like this, when he engulfs your perception so completely. You pull him closer on top of you in silent agreement. He knows your signs though, so it's all he needs.

His kisses grow rough on your neck, more set on leaving marks behind. The hand on your breast continues to toy with it while occasionally the fingers glide up to play with your nipple. It had pebbled up under your t-shirt, eager for his touch.

"You're gonna love it. Being so dependent, needing me all the time," he rasps, "And with a body like this, you were made for it."

His hands roam over your curves. They fondle and squish, intent on feeling every soft inch of you. Your clit pulses for him in anticipation of what's coming.

"And I'll be just as crazy for it, watching your body bend to my will, shaping up to carry our child," he whispers.

Another round of chills erupts across your skin. Both of you breathe heavier. You whine as his mouth migrates onto your collar bone, skimming the neckline of your top. Your chest heaves for him. Every part of you craves his attention.

Between your legs, your folds slicken with arousal, preparing for the inevitable. The throbbing from your delicate bundle of nerves only grows more intense, and you wish his fingers were down there providing you with some relief instead of lingering on your chest. Trying to get some friction on your own, you lift your hips to reciprocate him rubbing up against you, but he thwarts the efforts by pushing you back down and keeping you in place. He wants you where he wants you, you don't get to move and decide otherwise.

"Patience, doll," he tells you, "No need to rush."

Despite his words of delay however, his next move is to adjust your clothes into positions that leave you accessible to each other. He shoves his sweats down to mid thigh, allowing his heavy cock to spring free. The ache for you is practically visible to your eyes. It stands stiff with little beads of precum oozing from the tip. His fingers hook over the waistband of your bottoms and do the same to them, lowering them enough that he can get to the sweet spot between your legs.

He also tugs your shirt down, letting your tits spill over the neckline into his view. Ducking down, he latches onto a nipple while stroking himself. You hear the throaty groans echoing within him. Thoughts of your chest swelling up in the future dance through his head as you reach around to gently run your nails over the nape of his neck.

The schlick schlick schlick of his hand fisting his cock is audible from between the two of you. He bucks into his hand a few times before lining up and teasing your entrance with the tip.

"'kuna..." you whimper, lips forming into a pout.

Part of it was impatience, part of it was nerves. Either way, he glances at you, lips curled into that sinister smile.

"Don't whine, brat. You know it never gets you what you want," he chides.

The words don't ring true though because seconds after saying them, he pushes the rest of his girthy shaft into your tight little hole. Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle the sounds pouring out of you. Your eyes roll back as a harsh breath leaves his lungs.

"That's it. No more complaining," he mutters.

He sinks all the way in, taking a moment to feel the tight warmth of you around him before pulling back and starting to pump in and out. Your hand stays clamped over your face as he grins down at you. No matter how many times the two of you fuck, he'll never grow tired of seeing your face when he first slips it in.

You gush around his cock as he thrusts. His movements are measured and small, but they still strike hard and raw. The heated skin of your ass bounces against his thighs every time he slams forward. Each motion pushes you harder against the couch.

Soft mewls leak out against your palm. It all feels so good. His body caging yours down. The swollen head of his cock nudging all the sweet spongy spots inside of you. Even the sight of him above you stokes the flames of lust burning in you. His muscles flex as he holds himself up and slides into you over and over.

"Squeezing me so much, doll. You want this bad, huh? Wanna make me a daddy?" he taunts.

You bite your lip under your hand and nod eagerly. Another needy moan seeps from you as his hand comes down and presses on your belly. The sensation makes your hips squirm. You tighten up more around him.

"So good for me, takin' it like this," he grunts, "Doing what you're meant to."

Your eyes flutter as you respond with another weak nod. Looking down, you catch the faint bulge that appears with every jolt of his pelvis. The sight is enough to spur you closer to the edge. You reach up for his shoulders, pulling a bit to get him closer.

He obliges your gesture and lowers himself on top of you, your bodies flush against each other now as he grinds himself deep inside of you.

"You're gonna look so fucking good, all rounded out for me. I'm gonna want you knocked up until you can't give me any more," he murmurs.

You feel his lashes flutter against your neck before his teeth sink into your neck. The bite isn't hard enough to draw blood or really hurt, just gives you a nice little sting. A small shock of pain to mix in with the pleasure.

"Fill me up, 'kuna. Wanna feel it take," you whisper, your voice breathy and broken up by whimpers.

"Oh it's gonna take," he grumbles.

He keeps rutting into you on the couch until he feels himself reaching that high. Like he usually does with you, he keeps his face against your neck when he cums. His groan vibrates against your sweaty skin while cum spurts into you from his tip. He moves in erratic beats, losing his sense of rhythm.

Your legs lock around his waist, and you keep him pressed close as can be as you reach your own peak. Rocking your hips upward, you meet his handful of final thrusts. You manage to stay quiet through it before finally sliding your hand off of your face. A full breath fills your lungs.

As you come down, you melt into the couch cushions below. He stays on top of you, catching his breath. His body rests there, boneless and limp. He doesn't pull out, just stays there for a few moments.

When he finally does detach himself, he lazily lifts himself up and slides back. He fixes his clothes and yours, looking down at you a bit softer than before. A softness he would never verbalize, of course.

Instead of talking, he flops over and squeezes in beside you on the couch, slotting himself between your side and the backing. He wraps an arm around your waist. His eyes casually land on the tv.

"Try not to move too much. We want it to take," he mumbles and nestles his face against your neck again.

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #ch: ryomen sukuna 💌

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