#never go to it evidently... oops ....

[xxplastic-cubexx]

will you please draw Charles in a swimsuit as well, since you already did mags? 👉🏻👈🏻

are these anything. pt 2

[cryptidjeepers]

Im not going to say specifics but theres so much 'through the grape vine' discourse on the internet that is so frustrating for a lot of reasons. But the most frustrating kind is the "baseless or otherwise unnuanced/overdramatic accusation of someone or something" that is either debunked, old and outdated or proven to be a much more complicated topic. But all most people will see is that first callout post and will internalize it as fact for years. Theyll continue to parrot it on other platforms whenever its mentioned and then outsiders will see that out of context and internalize that as well. Until its so far from the context and the damage is irreversible.

Or will take what might have been a understandable criticism but will turn it into a "this thing is irredeemablely bad and youre a bad person for liking it." If you so much as mention the thing you will have people saying "isnt this thing evil and bad?" Because of a tumblr post they read 5 years ago.

[lhseungs]

* ˚ ✰    — ‘ KISS IT BETTER ’  p.sunghoon

. . . WARNING / TAGS: smut 18+, minors dni, masturbating, fingering, sunghoon just watching you masturbate, virginity losing (implied), praise

. . . SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend sunghoon walks in on you moaning his name while fucking yourself. wc - 775

. . . A/N: another literal copy and paste from my og blog oops. new works coming soon though so stay tuned!

two years. you and park sunghoon have been together for two years and still haven’t fucked, but you blame it on yourself. you’re always so hesitant when it comes to this, never going further than a makeout session with your boyfriend. you love him, you do, but your nerves took over every time you sat on his lap, tongue in his mouth and the boner so evident in his pants. you always felt bad cutting it short, sensing the disappointment in hoons eyes even though he’d tell you, “whenever you’re ready!”

the burr of the pink vibrator on your clit and your quiet moans were the only sound in your bedroom. a wet patch formed on your panties as you pressed the vibrator harder against you, growing bigger the longer time passed. you needed to release some pent-up stress that piled up throughout the day and what better way to do it than masturbating? all your plans were canceled for this moment, this moment of peace.

sunghoon crossed your mind. your sweet and wonderful boyfriend with his long and thick fingers, his long, messy black hair that you just wanna pull, his sweet and soft lips. unconsciously your fingers slid into your panties, vibrator getting momentarily cast aside. you inserted two fingers into your cunt and started thrusting, imagining it was his. sunghoon’s name fell from your lips, your back arching as you quickened your pace.

so enveloped in your pleasure, you didn’t hear keys rattling outside your front door. you didn’t hear your boyfriend call your name as he slammed the front door shut, and you definitely didn’t hear him drop bags in your kitchen as he headed to your bedroom door. no, all you heard was your moans echoing the room as you came, sunghoon’s name slipping through as well.

before being able to recover, your bedroom door opened revealing your tall boyfriend, white t-shirt too big on him revealing his collarbones, and black jeans growing too tight as a result of his hardening cock. “is my precious girl putting on a private show?” he asked, lips curling. “just for me?”

you didn’t even have a response for him, too embarrassed to even form words. you realized the vibrator was still on when all you were able to do was whimper in front of him. “turn that shit off,” sunghoon scoffed, walking closer to your bed to yank it off of your clit himself. “why use toys when i’m right here.”

“hoon-“ you muttered, not moving an inch as you watched your boyfriend take the vibrator and throw it to the side. he grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed.

his large hands rubbed up and down your thighs as he took in your beauty. “do you need a little help, sweetheart?” your eyes widened, but you nodded nonetheless. he instantly brought his hand to your soaking panties and moved the fabric away from your dripping cunt. “‘m gonna make you feel so, so good.”

sunghoon started with one finger, slowly inserting it into your pussy and thrusting it at a brutally slow pace. you were too stunned to even tell him to go faster. the fantasies that you were having just minutes earlier were coming to life, and god his fingers were better than you imagined. sunghoon inserted another finger and increased his pace.

your hands gripped the bedsheets, back arching as his fingers hit just the right spot. his long fingers reached places your own could barely skim, sending you to heaven. he moved up and faced you. “such a beauty for me,” he said, “and you’re all mine.” he crashed his lips into yours, sucking on your tongue as he continued to finger you. mouth still on yours, he thrust his fingers faster and harder and you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning against his lips. you grabbed his hair, pulling it as sunghoon’s fingers curled in your pussy, making the knot in your abdomen tighten. you yanked him away

from your lips, moans fully echoing the room.

“fuck, fuck. sunghoon, FUCK!” you screamed his name, vision turning white. without being able to even tell him, you came, legs shaking as you creamed around your boyfriend’s thick fingers.

he pulled away from you completely and licked his fingers one by one, sucking your juices off his digits with a smirk on his lips. sunghoon locked eyes with you, still catching your breath from your orgasm.

“now, tell me,” he asked, pulling his pants down in the process. his cock sprang free from it’s restraints and your mouth watered at the sight. “wanna have a little more fun?”

. . . TAGLIST: @sailoryuns @gukkiebug @skibidihan @tobiosbbyghorl @wontechno

[incognit0slut]

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Behind Closed Doors

Your admiration of his vest leads you to an empty office with his face buried between your thighs—and an urgent Emily demanding your whereabouts.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) soft!dom spence (are we even surprised), fingering, oral sex (f), semi-public, slight overstimulation, and Emily kind of overhears because she calls Reader in the middle of the deed (oops). 5k words

A/n: I don’t have any excuse for this one, I just wanted to rewrite this scene of him because looking at it is not enough

You heard him before you saw him. It wasn't his voice per se, but the distinct sound of rapid shots cutting through the air. The noise seemed to intensify as you stepped into the control room, almost overbearing, but you'd long since grown used to its piercing sound.

"Is that Reid?" You asked, your polished boots echoing into the confined space. The officer monitoring him through the surveillance camera glanced over at you, and even though her expression didn't betray outright displeasure, you could hear a subtle edge in her voice.

"Agent Y/L/N," she greeted, her eyes darting between the rows of monitors, then to you, and finally settling on the clipboard in her hand. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Actually, I am. It’s Tuesday, my usual training day.”

"Not for another hour."

"I know," you countered, holding up your wrist to check your watch. "But I have some spare time, thought I’d come by early."

“I’m afraid it’s occupied right now. Agent Reid is still in the middle of his test."

This caught your attention. "What test?"

She glanced at you, her expression conflicted. "It's just a routine evaluation."

"He's currently not an active agent," you pointed out. It hadn’t been too long since his release from prison. It didn’t make any sense for him to go through an evaluation, not when he was behind bars for the past few weeks. Then recognition dawned on your face. "He's being evaluated to rejoin the team, isn't he?"

"I... I'm not at liberty to discuss that," she replied. Her gaze faltered momentarily before she nodded slowly, confirming your suspicions. "But yes, it's standard procedure for agents returning from extended leave."

"Oh wow—okay," you responded, absorbing the information. Your eyes flickered towards the monitor. "How's he doing?"

Her lips formed a thoughtful line before she answered, "Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp."

You let out a laugh, finding the comparison amusing. You'd known Spencer for what, three, four years? While he wasn't bad with firearms, comparing him to a historical figure like Wyatt Earp seemed a bit exaggerated. However, as you watched him through the monitors, despite your initial skepticism, you couldn't deny the truth in her words.

You had witnessed him handle a gun countless times, but always in situations where there was a real threat, where you both had to be on high alert. Yet as you observed him now from a different perspective, it was hard to tear your eyes away. It was as if he was in his element, and Spencer Reid in his element never looked so... attractive?

Now that wasn't an exaggeration. Although you had never admitted this to anyone—god forbid what your teammates would say—there was an undeniable charm to the confidence he exuded. While Spencer had always been attractive, there was something different about the way he handled the gun.

You were sure it had something to do with his time in prison. After all, who wouldn't be affected by such a daunting place, especially when you weren’t supposed to be there in the first place? Yet, surprisingly, Spencer seemed to be coping better than you expected. Despite the toll it must have taken on him, it was evident that his experiences had shaped him, perhaps more than he let on.

Although he was still the same sweet, adorable guy you considered one of your closest friends. But you weren't sure your current observation of him fitted the typical definition of friendship… because there was nothing remotely friendly about the thoughts running in your head right now.

Not only was it not friendly, but it wasn't exactly innocent. Because look at him. Look at the way he was gripping the gun, his arms defined beneath his rolled-up sleeves. Look at the way his protective glasses covered his face, the black-rimmed frames accentuating his handsome features. And even though you had seen him wear the uniform vest countless times, somehow it was undeniably distracting the way it hugged his chest. 

Yep—there was nothing remotely friendly about how you wanted to climb up the man.

A sudden buzz echoed in the room, snapping you to reality. You glanced up and noticed the officer you were talking to entering the monitor screen and it dawned on you that you had been so distracted by your thoughts that you hadn't realized she had left the control room.

"I'll send the results to the review board this evening," the officer's voice resonated from the screen.

"Did I do okay?" His voice came through.

"Like the second coming of Wyatt Earp," she replied, echoing her earlier assessment. Her gaze shifted to the printed cardboard image of a man, supposedly representing the Unsub, which was shredded right around the face. "Or... Al Capone, maybe."

You observed Spencer's slight nod as she turned and walked out of the screen. Quickly, you exited the control room and met her in the hallway.

"Agent Y/L/N," she called out as she spotted you. "You can have the room in five minutes—"

"I need to reschedule."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Reschedule?"

"Uh... yes, something urgent came up," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual.

She regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright, just let me know when you want to reschedule."

"I will, thank you," you said quickly. Sensing her lingering gaze, you added, "Oh, I'm just waiting for Reid. I need his help on... something."

A faint smile played on her lips, though she didn't press further. "Of course, I'll leave you to it then." 

With a nod, she turned and walked away just as the door at the end of the hallway opened, revealing Spencer emerging from the room. His eyes met yours in confusion, and you could sense his curiosity as he approached you.

"Hey," he greeted. "What are you doing here?"

You cocked your head to the side.

What were you doing here? 

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before offering a shrug. "Just passing by, I guess."

His brow furrowed slightly as if he sensed there was more to your answer than you were letting on. "Alright," he said, though his curiosity lingered in his gaze.

You shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, suddenly feeling the need to change the subject. "So, how did the evaluation go?"

"So you've heard.”

"Yeah," you confirmed, starting to walk down the hallway as he stepped in pace beside you. "I can't wait for you to be back on the team. Officially, that is."

"If they let me back on the team."

"Of course they will," you reassured him, your hand finding its place on his shoulder, offering support. "You're more than qualified."

He sighed, and you tried not to notice the subtle movement of his vest across his chest, or how it shifted under your touch. "You think so?"

"I know so," you affirmed, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Trust me, they'll definitely bring you back."

He stopped his pace, and so did you, before his eyes flickered towards your hand on his shoulder. He must've sensed something different, considering you weren't exactly the type of person who liked physical contact. Neither of you were, actually. While Spencer was known for his aversion to germs, you simply preferred maintaining a certain level of personal space.

"Seriously," he wondered, his tone laced with curiosity. "What are you doing down here?"

You cleared your throat. "I told you, I was just passing by."

"Really? Is that why you're talking to me instead of going through your usual training?" he pressed on. "It's Tuesday. I'm well aware of your schedule."

Damn him and his eidetic memory. You shifted away from his gaze. "Can't a girl just choose to have a chat with a friend?"

"You chose me over your scheduled routine?” his lips curved into a subtle smile. “Am I that much of a distraction?”

Yes, that damn vest is distracting me.

"Distraction might be a bit strong,” you replied, the lie sounding feeble even to your own ears.

"So you’re admitting I’m slightly distracting?"

"I never said that.”

Spencer leaned in and you felt the heat of his proximity radiating from his body. "But you didn't deny it either.”

You felt a faint blush creep onto your cheeks as you realized the shift in his tone. Dare you say he was... flirting with you? Or was it just your imagination running wild? From the corner of your eye, you caught the subtle way he licked his lips, and without meaning to, your own gaze was drawn to the movement.

It was a habit of his, one you'd observed countless times before whether it was out of concentration or a mere reflex. But seeing it up close now, the way his tongue traced the curve of his bottom lip, was driving you insane.

You swallowed hard. This was not friendly behavior. A friend wouldn't be imagining what it would feel like to have his tongue on your lips instead.

"Y/N?"

Your face felt hot as you met his gaze. "I..."

Before you could respond, the sound of laughter and chatter from down the hallway reached your ears. You heard Penelope's unmistakable giggle with JJ's animated voice, and suddenly your instinct took over. Without a second thought, you reached out and grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him into an empty office nearby. 

The door shut with a soft thud, and you frowned, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn't want to be caught in a state of flustered panic like some nervous school girl talking to her crush, but as Spencer stood behind you, you realized you were overreacting. The more you dwelled on it, the more absurd it seemed to hide away when there was no reason to.

With a sigh, you turned to face him. "Sorry about that, I didn't mean to..."

But as your gaze met him, your words faltered because he was standing closer than you expected. Close enough that the color of his eyes seemed to intensify under the soft light filtering through the window—a rich brown, like warm chocolate, with specks of gold that danced in the sunlight.

Your eyes involuntarily traced downwards, from the sharp lines of his nose to the curve of his lips, lingering on the stubble lining his jawline. Your mind wandered, and now you couldn't help but wonder how it would feel having it against your skin. Or how it would feel pressed against your thigh.

Your face grew hotter at the thought.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" he asked, taking a step forward. You squeaked in surprise, an actual high-pitched sound leaving your lips, as you felt the hard surface of his vest pressing against your chest.

"It's just..." You hesitated, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. "You're standing really close..."

He glanced down at you, his eyes resting on your lips. "Do you want me to move?"

"I... uh..."

His eyes flickered back up to meet yours. "I'll take that as a no."

Before you could process his words, his hand reached up, fingers gently gripping your waist. You felt a rush of heat spread through you at his touch, the sensation seeping through your shirt and you found yourself leaning into him, your breath catching in your throat as his face hovered closely above yours.

It was happening. Your heart pounded in your chest as his lips drew closer. You couldn’t believe it, he was going to kiss you—Spencer-fucking-Reid was going to kiss you.

But just as his lips hovered dangerously close against yours, he suddenly stopped.

"Just to make this clear," he began, running a thumb along your side. "I respect you, both as a friend and a colleague. I don't want to force you into anything you're not comfortable with, so if you think this is pushing any boundaries then—"

"Spencer," you cut in. "Just kiss me already."

With a hint of relief and a small smile playing on his lips, he finally closed the gap between you.

You never imagined his lips could be so soft. He had the softest lips that moved against your own with a hint of coffee and something undeniably sweet. Those soft, soft lips parted away from yours for a moment before he leaned back in, more desperate, more needy. And when he swiped your bottom lip with his tongue, seeking entrance, you couldn't help but welcome him with a soft moan of pleasure.

He devoured you then, his tongue pushing eagerly into your mouth, his lips enveloping you with a hunger that left you breathless as he pressed himself against you. Before you could fully grasp what was happening, you were walking backward until your back collided with the solid surface of the desk. 

With strength you didn’t know he possessed, he effortlessly lifted you and perched you on top of it, prompting a surprised squeal to escape your lips. He laughed in response but you were too caught up in the moment to worry about whether he found you amusing. 

Your hands eagerly roamed over his chest, fingers curling around the strap of his vest as you pulled him closer. He slipped between your parted legs with ease and when he pressed his evident bulge against your core, you both gasped in pleasure.

"We should... we should probably stop, right?" he murmured, his voice muffled against your lips. Despite his words, his actions betrayed his self-control as he began to roll his hips against you.

“We're at work, someone might—” He groaned. “Someone might… hear us..."

He was right, but you found yourself unable to care about anything else but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your heat.

"We could stop, or..." you found yourself saying without thinking. Your hands moved with a mind of their own, finding their way between you as you started to unbutton your shirt, the fabric slipping away to reveal more of your skin. 

"Or..." He prompted, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip yet again, his breath coming out in shallow, ragged bursts.

"Or..." you repeated, pushing the front of your shirt open. "We could be quiet."

"We could be quiet," he agreed all too quickly. "We could definitely be quiet."

You let out an amused laugh. "We’re going to get in trouble if anyone finds us."

“Then you shouldn’t make a sound.”

“Me? What about—oh.”

His lips were already trailing down your body, leaving soft kisses as they lingered on your neck, across your collarbone, and then he moved lower, sucking lightly on the swell of your breasts. A whimper of his name escaped your lips, your fingers entwining in his hair.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes drinking at the sight of your breast pushed up against your bra, a glistening sheen of his saliva coating your skin.

“You are stunning,” he murmured, before leaning back in to place a tender kiss on the spot where your collarbone met your shoulder. “How far do you want to take this?”

You blinked, trying to ground yourself into the moment between the lust fogging your brain. “What do you mean?”

“This,” he muttered as he rutted his hips against yours, drawing a needy moan from you. “How far are you willing to go?”

“If you’re asking whether I want to have sex with you, the answer is a hundred percent yes.”

You could practically feel his smile on your skin as he buried himself in the crook of your neck.

“That’s good to know,” he whispered, causing you to arch your back as your chest pressed against the hard material of his vest. “But I don’t think we can do much considering we’re supposed to be working. Well, you at least.”

You grasped his shoulders, pushing him away to meet his gaze. “I thought we agreed to keep quiet.”

“We can keep quiet,” he assured you, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “But I can’t rush my time with you. Besides, you deserve a much better setting than an unoccupied office full of dust.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lightly along your jawline. “Maybe, but it’s more about time, really. I just want to take—” His lips brushed against your cheek. “My time—” A peck on your lips. “With you.”

You melted right there and then. You could’ve sworn you were nothing but a puddle mess. If he wasn’t holding you for support you were sure you could fall right back to the floor.

“Alright then,” you finally said, reaching for the buttons of your shirt with trembling hands only to be stopped as his fingers curled around your wrist.

“What are you doing?”

You shot him a puzzled look. “I thought you didn’t want to have sex right now.”

“I didn’t say anything about stopping,” he replied, releasing your hand before his palms slid up your thighs. “There are plenty of other things we can do.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks. “Like what?”

“Well, I guess we'll just have to get creative.”

Your breath hitched when his fingers hovered over the button on your pants. You watched with a mix of excitement and disbelief as he started to undo them, your mind turning into a mushy mess. It was as if every neuron in your brain had decided to stop working.

“Lift your hips for me.”

You met his gaze, trying to summon up your composure but you couldn’t help the nervous twitch of your lips. He smiled at you.

“Come on, pretty girl, we don’t have all day.”

Not only were you melting, but you were practically liquid by now. Your body moved on its own accord—your hands gripping his shoulders as you lifted your hips, synchronizing perfectly with his gentle movements to slide the material over your hips and down your legs.

He placed your pants on the empty space beside you while his eyes never left your body. His gaze lingered on the rise and fall of your chest, and he leaned in, his fingers trailing over your skin before settling on the hem of your panties. His thumb slid to the front, brushing along the delicate material. Your hips bucked as he continued to run his thumb up and down as if he were trying to map out your slick folds over the fabric.

“Look at you dripping,” he mused, his eyes fixated on the way his thumb slid over to your clit. “Are you always this wet?”

Your cheeks heated at the question. He wasn’t even trying to make it come off as dirty talk; he asked it like a normal question, as if he were simply wondering about what you ate for breakfast. But the question alone had your face burning because you did not expect it to come from him.

“I… I guess so.”

“You guess so?” he asked, his tone amused. He hooked his fingers into the material of your panties before pushing it to the side.

“I-I don’t know.” You let out a breathless moan when his fingers grazed your slit. “Whenever I’m turned on, I don’t... I don’t exactly touch myself just to check how wet I am.”

Spencer chuckled softly, angling his hand between your thighs before gently pushing his middle finger into your entrance. You gasped at the sudden stretch, brows furrowing as he pressed further, and your hand instinctively gripped onto his arm.

“Do you often touch yourself?”

Your head fell back as he started to move.

“M-Maybe,” you managed to stutter out.

"What do you think of when you do?" he asked slowly, his own breath starting to grow shallow as he watched your face contort in pleasure. He observed the way your mouth fell open, your tongue slightly slipping out in the corner, and the way your eyes shut closed. He was fascinated by the effect he had on you, on how just a simple touch had you squirming.

“A… a lot of things,” you managed to reply.

“Have you ever thought of me?”

Whoa.

The question caught you off guard, and you blinked, momentarily stunned.

This was dangerous territory, but then again, nothing seemed quite as risky as being fingered by your coworker on a Tuesday afternoon. So what harm could it be if you admitted that yes, in fact, he had crossed your mind when you touched yourself wishing it was his fingers instead?

A lot of harm, actually. One, it seemed like an inappropriate confession given your friendship. Friends don't usually imagine each other in sexual scenarios. And two, you could die of embarrassment.

"No," you replied, hoping your voice sounded more confident than you felt.

He hummed skeptically. “I thought we were past the point of lying between profilers.” With a pause, he added another finger inside you, causing you to bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. “Is this how you imagined it in your fantasies?”

What was the point of lying now? You swallowed hard, trying to think of a witty response to distract from the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

“Uh… This is slightly better.”

“Slightly? I’m hurt.” He pressed his thumb onto your clit. “What else did you think of then?”

Your cheeks flushed even more. “You… well, um, you also used your tongue.”

The airy laugh he let out sent a shiver down your spine. “Really? And how did that fantasy play out?"

Your heart raced as you tried to find the right words. "Let's just say it involved a lot more tongue action and a lot less talking."

His smile widened, and he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your ear. “Then let’s reenact it.” He gently pulled his fingers out of you. “Lay on your back.”

With a shaky breath, you complied, sprawling out on the desk, a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. When he reached for the waistband of your panties, you couldn't help but crack a joke. "If I knew this was the direction this day was heading, I would've worn my fanciest underwear."

Spencer shook his head. “Trust me, you don't need fancy underwear to drive me crazy."

He then deftly removed your panties, his movements confident yet tender, like he was unwrapping a precious gift. When the fabric pooled at your ankle, he got down on his knees and parted your legs wider, positioning himself between them.

You watched, anticipation building, as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your inner thigh. Then, with a teasing glance, he pressed his lips to your skin, planting soft kisses along the trail of your inner thigh, inching closer to your core.

You shivered at the sensation and your heart raced with every kiss. His hands roamed over your thighs, tracing delicate patterns while his mouth brushed closer to where you craved him the most. You bit down your bottom lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his tongue flicked out, grazing your sensitive flesh.

This was definitely better than your fantasies, the ones you'd harbored in secret, too taboo to admit even to yourself. But here you were, living out those desires in the most deliciously real way possible.

You gasped as his tongue lavished your slit, tasting every inch, mixing your arousal that was beginning to drip from your core with his saliva. Your back arched off the desk, thighs trembling and when they threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag over your clit.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Somehow it felt like a dream, but everything was real. His face was right between your thighs; his mouth pressed against your cunt, his tongue lapping through your wet folds. And it wasn’t as simple as tasting you, he was eating you, devouring you, swallowing every drop of your arousal as if he couldn’t get enough of your taste.

You started to lose control of your mind, your body, your actions. Your hips bucked to meet his tongue, your jaw slackening as stifled moans spilled from your lips. And that was when you felt it—a faint vibration against your thigh. At first, you thought it was just the sensation of his touch, but then the loud, unmistakable loud ringtone of your phone shattered the moment.

"Shit!" You squealed, scrambling to grab your phone from your discarded pants. The last thing you needed was for someone to discover you in this compromising position.

"It's Emily—“ You pushed his head away, trying to hide your flushed face as he looked at you with surprise. His lips were glistened with your arousal and his hair seemed messier. God, he looked so pretty.

"Don't answer it."

"It might be important." With a pointed look, you silently urged him to keep quiet as you brought the phone to your ear with trembling fingers. “H-Hey... what's up?"

Emily's voice came through the line, slightly muffled by the sounds of commotion in the background. “Hey, I need you to review the report you submitted yesterday, you left a few details about the Unsub.”

Spencer's lips brushed against your inner thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, and you had to bite back a moan. You shot him a warning glare, mouthing ‘stop’ before turning your attention back to the call.

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “So… um, which report?”

"The case in Florida," your boss explained. "You mentioned that the Unsub was targeting women between the ages of 25 and 35…”

You were trying to listen, you really were, but it was hard when you felt his fingers ease into your cunt, your juices dripping out, coating his flesh as he curled them inside. You almost let out a whine as his thumb pressed to your clit, caressing in circular motions. 

“…he's also been stalking younger women."

Your eyes screwed shut as he sped up his pace. His touch was driving you crazy, and you could barely register the conversation over the sounds of your own arousal echoing in the room.

“Y/N.”

You snapped your eyes open, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you tried to concentrate on the call. "Uh, yeah, go on," you managed to stammer, hoping she didn't notice your wavering tone.

“Are you okay? You sound... off," Emily's voice cut through the haze of pleasure. You shot Spencer another pleading look, but he simply smiled at you with a hand still between your thighs and the other slipping underneath your bra.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, fighting against the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. "Uh, yeah, I… I-I’m doing my training.”

You mentally cursed yourself for the terrible excuse. Emily didn't seem entirely convinced. "Training?"

"Yeah, you know, the uh... firearm training? I-It’s Tuesday.”

There was a pause on the other end before she spoke again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound like you're in pain."

You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as his fingers curled inside of you. "No, no, I'm fine. Just... a little out of breath from all the… shooting."

Spencer let out an incredulous scoff, and you shot him a pointed glare.

“Are you with someone?”

You hesitated, racking your brain for a believable excuse, but all you could muster was a feeble, "Uh, nope.”

There was a pause on the other end, and the tension in the air seemed to thicken as your body flushed with heat. Meanwhile, Spencer seemed intent on torturing you, never stopping his pace. If anything, it seemed like his movements were increasing. Just when you thought you couldn't feel more exposed, another scoff echoed through your ear, this time from Emily.

“Alright, where are you really?” she pressed, her tone indicating she wasn't buying your flimsy excuse.

“I told you I-I’m doing my training.”

She laughed. “Y/N, we profile people as a job. I can sense your lie even through the phone.”

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. What was up with these profilers and their knack for sniffing out lies? You were one yourself, but apparently, you were no match for their scrutiny.

“I’m not—“ your words were cut short when he stood up, hovering above you. You looked up at him, smiling at you innocently as his fingers continued to curl deep inside you. You clutched his forearm with your free hand, attempting to steady yourself.

"I'm not lying," you managed to squeak out.

"Mhm," came Emily's voice from the other end. “Just come by my office and grab the report, okay?”

Your breath hitched as his fingertips delved deeper, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of his hand moving between your legs, coated in your arousal with each thrust. You could feel your orgasm edging closer. Your hips moved in sync with his motions as the pressure built, the tension coiling tighter in your stomach and—

“Y/N!”

“Y-Yes, I’m… I’m coming.” Spencer's low chuckle filled your ears, and you realized what you'd unintentionally implied. Your eyes widened in embarrassment. “I mean, I-I’ll be there soon, okay, bye!”

You quickly slammed your phone down on the desk, ending the call with a thud. But before you could even take a breath, Spencer's fingers were back to their rapid pace, driving you to the edge of sanity. Your body staggered under his touch, your hips moving in sync with his relentless rhythm, the world outside the room fading away into a blur of pleasure.

"A-Ah—w-wait, fuck—"

You barely managed to utter a protest before his hand covered your mouth, muffling your cries of pleasure. Your back arched, your head thrown back as you tightened your grip on his wrist, your body writhing beneath him as your orgasm consumed you.

It lasted longer than you expected and Spencer seemed determined to push you over the edge as he shifted his attention from your cunt to your sensitive clit. His fingers withdrew momentarily, only to return with a renewed intensity, applying just the right amount of pressure.

Your senses were on overload as you moaned into his hand, the sound muffled but still audible. He worked you, over and over, and you didn't even know your body could take so much. Every stroke, every caress sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, building up to an intensity that bordered on overwhelming.

Your legs shook uncontrollably as the sensations reached a fever pitch. It was all too much, too intense, and in a moment of desperation, you pushed his hand away. When the last tremors of your orgasm finally faded away, you collapsed back onto the desk, panting heavily, your limbs feeling like jelly. 

Spencer removed his hand from your mouth, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he watched you catch your breath. “Are you okay?" 

You nodded weakly. “Yeah, just… that was intense.”

“Good intense?”

“Really good intense,” you replied with a sheepish grin, which only made him smile. With shaky hands, you pushed yourself up from the desk, feeling a wave of satisfaction wash over you. As you began to dress yourself, you couldn't help but steal a glance at him—or rather, the evident bulge underneath his pants.

“That… that doesn’t look comfortable,” you remarked.

Spencer waved off your worry with a dismissive chuckle. “Don’t worry about me, I can take care of it myself.”

“Here? At work?” Your eyes widened at the implication. “I didn't know you had it in you.”

He cocked his head to the side. “That’s not what I meant. It’ll eventually go away if I ignore—stop staring at it,” he added with a laugh. “You’re not helping.”

Your gaze lingered a moment too long on his bulge. "I can think of another way to help.”

Spencer's breath caught in his throat, his imagination running wild with possibilities, but he quickly regained his composure. "Go," he said, gently nudging you towards the door once you were properly dressed. "Emily's waiting for you."

Your eyes swept over him and a wave of awkwardness suddenly washed over you. What was the protocol after experiencing the most intense orgasm of your life? Shake his hand? Give him a high-five? You couldn't help but stifle a nervous laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

After a brief moment of contemplation, you decided to trust your instincts. With a hint of hesitation, you stepped closer and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. He blinked in surprise, but before he could respond, you were already rushing to the door.

He couldn't help but smile as he watched you leave, a tingling sensation lingering on his cheek where your lips had briefly touched. But as he licked his lips absentmindedly, he couldn't shake the taste of your arousal that lingered there.

Groaning softly, he shifted uncomfortably as his mind filled with vivid images of you squirming under him; your mouth agape, eyes half-closed, your pretty legs spread apart. The memory of your moans echoed in his ears and his cock stirred in his pants. 

He sighed, realizing he was in for a long day if he didn't do something about it. With a slight grimace—and the embarrassment gnawing at him for what he was about to do—he let his feet carry him to the nearest bathroom.

[aoxue]

Thank you and in addition, for XXC specifically: you also need to do better than looking at the eyeball situation and concluding “he’s dumb and gay and can’t count.” You are missing the entire point of the gesture and the character.

here's a fandom challenge: stop referring to lxc and xxc as himbos or at the very least build up a good defense that doesn't fall back on "he trusted the villain"

[rose-writes-for-march]

March for More: Not so Markless After All

MASTERPOST

For as long as Bruce could remember, he'd never had a soulmate. There were no loops or twisting vines inked on skin, no murmur in the back of his head, or a timer on his wrist. By all evidence found, he was alone.

It wasn't anything too tragic. The Markless is a small but welcoming community, dedicated to spreading awareness that not everyone needed or wanted such a bond and Bruce liked being a part of it. However, he couldn't shake the disappointment even with the rationalization that a soulmate would only complicate his nighttime activities.

Which is why, in the middle of a meeting to prepare for the council with the King of another realm, Batman was shocked to see a red string on his finger. It hadn't been there a moment ago when he was talking to Superman, appearing in the moment he'd turned to address Flash, then solidifying as he caught sight of it.

He knew, okay, that the red string was rare. That of all the bonds one could have, a red string was equally the luckiest and unluckiest bond to have. Because if you weren't close—approximately 50 miles at most—then you can't see it. You could go your entire life thinking you're Markless then all of a sudden your soulmate takes a vacation or a road trip. Like Bruce did.

Except, Bruce is in space. In space, where no one knows about or can get to without having prior authorization. So who the hell is his soulmate and why are they getting closer.

In the time it took Batman to find the direction of the string, the rest of the room had gone tense at the Dark Knights' sudden intensity. So, when a body casually floats through the walls of the Watchtower, the heroes are all prepared to fight.

"Ah— oops, didn't mean to spook ya'll!" A midwestern voice accompanied by an undertone of whispering that Batman can't make out calls from the body. A man, with white hair floating like clouds and a face pale like snow with only startling Lazarus green eyes to accentuate. Batman is intrigued, wary, and uneasy all at once.

"Who are you?" He calls out, eyes avoiding the red he knows is there. The man startles, eyes shooting across the room to find Batman, then stills. Oh, he hadn't noticed, then.

There's a long stretch of silence before a laugh falls from the mans lips—don't look at them, don't—as he removes himself from the wall. "Oh, this is hilarious," the man calls out, "I can't believe this is why Clockwork wanted me to hear you guys out, that fucker."

He shakes himself off and now that he's standing— floating upright, Batman can see the man wears an outfit of black and white, a bodysuit that looks eerily like a hazmat with a black cape overtop. The cape, as it flairs out behind the man, reveals a void of black that is splattered in the expanse of swirling stars and galaxies.

"I'm Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms and all that jazz. And you, poor unfortunate soul, are stuck with me it seems."

It sounded like a threat to Batman's hard-wired brain, but in the King's sickly green eyes was a sense of trepidation. The council had been planned with much of the same feeling—like the King didn't know if he could trust the word of humans from a world that was actively hunting and experimenting on his kind.

Bruce, in some strange way, thought it reminded him of his kids. Of Dick, who had lost his parents and home, and had found a place with Bruce to heal. Of Jason, who was so bright and so good, but couldn't find what he needed with Bruce. Of Tim, hardworking and desperate to save anyone he could, no matter what. Of Damian, angry and confused that Bruce wanted him to be a kid for once.

"Hm." Batman can feel the smile on his face, can feel the stares of his confused comrades, but that doesn't matter. King Phantom is another in a long line of people that need Batman's help—what right does he have to walk away now.

[pyrrhiccomedy]

I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

[earlysunshines]

order for delivery!

pham hanni x fem!reader

synopsis: hanni is a terrible multi-tasker and it's very evident when her phone is in between her ear and shoulder while she orders delivery. she's messily figuring out what to tackle on her calendar first as she mumbles her order, what lecture notes to go over, when her midterms fall---and oops, she just said 'love you, bye' to the worker on the other end of the phone.

warnings: none(?) i think it's just rly silly and cute and fluffy ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: ugh she's so cute and such a loser and UGH anyways i wrote this so quickly but maybe that's because i love thsi fic so much it was so so so fun to write omfg ENJOY!!

hanni is a terrible multitasker, it only ends up in her getting things mixed up and done slower. still, she does it anyway.

her phone is tucked awkwardly between her ear and shoulder, fingers tapping at the laptop keyboard while scrolling through lecture notes. “uh, yeah… chicken lo mein with extra chicken… and um also…” she squinted at the calendar on her screen. “what was i supposed to— oh, right… midterm next wednesday. right, cool.”

on the other end you listened patiently, smiling to yourself and holding back a small giggle as she mumbled half an order while clearly being busy with other things.

“wait, sorry!” she apologizes quickly, realizing she hadn’t ordered what minji and haerin had asked for. “also six steamed pork dumplings— no, twelve please. shrimp fried rice and… wait, i already said that, right? ugh—anyway, just, yeah, add that too.”

you ring it all up, smiling wider. “anything else?”

there’s a brief moment of silence until you hear, “huh? oh, no, that’s it.” she replies absentmindedly. she had been paying no attention at all, flipping through her notes and muttering to herself quietly about what she needed to review before the weekend. “uh, yeah, thanks—love you, bye.”

another beat of silence passes before you chime in, voice playful. “love you too.”

you could practically hear her freeze, the realization hits her. you hear a gasp on the other end of the phone, sharp and followed by a small curse.

‘w-wait, what?” hanni stammers, cheeks heating up like crazy. everything hanni had been bombarded with halts. her hands freeze on the laptop, her phone almost slips from her shoulder, and the papers she had been holding with the other hand have all landed on teh counter. everything hanni had been thinking about—midterm wednesday, lecture notes, module 2.2, chapter three reading—dissapear from her mind in a blink.

she hears a laugh on the other end, then a voice that sends a shiver down her spine. 

“your total is $28.41, by the way.”

“god, i’m sorry.” hanni rushes out the apology, face palming herself. “i didn’t mean it— not that i don’t love you! well, i mean, i don’t know you, so i don’t love you. not that i hate you! no hard feelings. i’m not saying you’re— okay i’m, i’m going to go. bye. thank you. sorry.”

hanni presses the red button on her phone, ending the call and cringing to herself. hanni is more than glad that her friends in the living room hadn’t heard the most embarassing phonecall of her life. if any of them were to witness it, she’d never live it down. her cheeks are fuming against her hand; she’s a mess, she really needs to stop tackling twelve things at once even though it brings her some type of comfort—less chaos during lots of chaos makes it seem like something manageable.

she clicks through a bunch of tabs, skims through a few lines on her paper, and then closes her laptop. she does this while being distracted by the whole one minute interaction from earlier, shooting herself in the head mentally everytime she thinks of it.

less than twenty minutes later, the delivery guy shows up. hanni knows it’s not the person on the phone, because when the man speaks, it’s not the same voice that sent a weird shiver down her spine when she realized they said “love you too” back to her.

she takes the two bags over to her living room, setting them down in front of two ravenous students—otherwise known as her best friends danielle and minji—watching their eyes sparkle just from the sight. she rolls her eyes at them, sitting down against her small couch and leaning against as they waste no time to dig in and unbox.

hanni’s the last one to reach in and grab something to munch on—mistake number one. mistake number two is catching minji furrowing her brows at a piece of paper, pickiing it up and reading, instead of stopping her before she can do any of that.

her best friend reads it outloud in a confused tone: “i put two extra fortune cookies in there,” minji begins, danielle scoots over to read too. “hope your fortune is as sweet as your voice. love, the girl you don’t hate, but don’t love :(“

“p.s. you sound cute when you’re caught off guard ;-)”

minji finishes reading, and then the two of her friends look up, staring down hanni.

“hanni, what’s this?”

“i— give me that!” hanni says, face burning up. she swipes the paper from minji’s hand, looking at the paper and covering it with her hand like her friends hadn’t just read it together. she cringes, closing her eyes and falling down on teh floor. “i’m an idiot.”

“hanniiiiii” danielle whines, scooting over to shake her by her shoulders while she’s on the floor. “what’s that about? do you have an admirer or something?”

“i can’t tell you, i just, i’m so stupid.”

“dude, what?” minji questions, completely ignoring the steaming, delicious food on the coffee table. “explain—now.”

hanni feels her heart beating like crazy, then she gives in and sits up. her face is most definitely beet red, maybe even worse when she glances at the note again.

“i accidentally said ‘love you, bye’ to the worker on the phone.” hanni says quietly, shaking her head. “and she said it back.”

“she what?” danielle and minji say in unison, looking at her in disbelief.

hanni lets out a weird noise, overwhelmed and flustered beyond words. she looks down at the note again through the spaces in her fingers as she covers her face, not noticing any name or anything that might lead to another encounter with the mystery girl on the other end of the line. this disappoints her a bit, but even if she were to have a name or number or anything, she wouldn’t be able to face you. 

after getting teased to death, the trio indulges in food after a very long and tiring study session. the conversation shifts to annoying professors, upcoming midterms, plans for when they all have free time—but hanni is still thinking of you, oddly enough.

—

a little over a week from that day, hanni orders takeout again. she’s somehow forgotten (for the most part) her embarrassing interaction, probably because her midterm is tomorrow and she’s completely forgotten to eat. her phone sits in between her shoulder and ear again, head tilted awkwardly to rush out an order. 

“alpha waves, altruism, anorexia nervosa… shit, sorry. um yeah, i’d like six steamed dumplings please, pork. umm… chow mein— no, scratch that. shrimp fried rice please.” her words are hurried out her mouth as she furrows her brows at her laptop screen, clicking through slides and trying to comprehend two units of psychology in one night. “that’s it, thank you, love you.”

hanni stops in place, frozen in shock. there is no way.

“wow, you must be smitten, huh?” she hears on the end of the line, followed by a small chuckle. “love you too, ‘hp.’” hanni had never used her full name when ordering things, well, only food. she always had this fear of sharing her legal name unless it was for unconsumable orders. “your total is $14.89 by the way.” 

you hear a groan on the end of the line, followed by what sounds like pens and pencils hitting the floor.

“...you alright?”

hanni, caught off guard by the whole conversation for the most part, but also the fact that you noticed how she had just spilled half her supplies onto her apartment floor, answers with a simple, “yeah.”

“that’s good to hear.”

“i’m really sorry, again, for the… you know.”

“your undying love for me?”

“what?” hanni says, completely disregarding the pens, pencils, and highlighters on the floor. “i- no! no. i’m not in love with you! i didn’t mean it—”

“i’m teasing, hp.” she hears the smile in your voice. “would you like an extra fortune? last time i had heard from you i remember something about a midterm.”

“you remembered?” it sounds a little pathetic, maybe desperate coming from hanni, but hanni couldn’t care less. she’s tired, overwhelmed, and has gone over so much work in the span of a few days that she really can’t think or function correctly.

“yeah, not many people sound as young as you. it’s usually a parent or something ordering for their family at this time. plus, you made my shift.” you confess, “i thought it was cute, you know, how frantic you had ordered your meal.”

“i’m really sorry about that, like seriously, i’m really, really sorry.”

“it’s okay hp.”

“right, yeah. i uh, i have to study. sorry— i don’t know why i’m saying sorry, ugh, sorry. thanks, bye.”

“no ‘love you?’” you ask, and before hanni can answer you respond, “kidding. i’ll throw in two fried wontons, have a good night hp.”

the call ends and hanni blinks a few times as she tries to process what just happened. she’s embarrassed beyond words, just as flustered too. there might even be a blush on her cheeks, she can’t stop thinking about how smooth you were with your teasing, plus the way your voice sounded. 

hanni thinks it’s the midterm getting to her, the stress. she cleans up the mess on the floor and goes through her vocabulary notes. she hears a knock on the door twenty minutes later which makes her jump in her seat.

she grabs the bag of fried rice and dumplings, placing it on the counter before taking everything out. hanni hears her stomach rumble a bit, she definitely underestimated how hungry she was.

before hanni digs in, she notices two fortune cookies and a note at the bottom. she completely ignores the cookies, grabbing the note and opening it up to see the same small handwriting from last time:

“i’m guessing your initials are hp? i could be wrong… 

hp like harry potter? it makes sense because you’re magical.

good luck on your midterm! hopefully you’ll order for a post-midterm celebration.

p.s. there are extra fried wontons ;p”

hanni smiles as she reads the note. pause. hanni stops smiling immediately when she becomes aware of the fact that she’s smiling because of a note. a note from a mystery woman on the other end of the line.

—

midterms are over, all of them. hanni had gone through all four midterms. all four. hanni’s burnt out to oblivion, finding comfort in her bed as soon as she gets back from her last midterm. she checks her messages and is greeted by the groupchat she’s in with danielle and minji.

minji: FINALLY i feel like a fish that’s been gutted out it’s not even finals lowk wasn’t even that bad actually how about you guys

danielle: my midterm is in an hour!  wish me luck :D how was yours hanni?

hanni: i’m about to PASS OUT why did i choose forensics

minji: because you’re a nerd don’t let one biology midterm screw you over who’s going to take care of my body parts when i suddenly get murdered

danielle: woah quite a situation, no?

hanni: uagghshhskafhjk i’m going to sleep GOODNIGHT do you guys want to come over later dani do you need time to unwind before you come over

danielle: no that’s alright! i find your apartment quite cozy i’ll just crash there right after, thanks han okay i’m going to review a bit more wish me luck!

minji: good luck mo dani!! you can do it  we love you

hanni: good luck! you’ve got this

danielle:  ❤️

hanni smiles at danielle’s message, she’s always so positive—even through text, even during these trying times. she decides to pass out for almost two hours, waking up groggy and finding herself almost tripping all the way back to her couch in the living room. she sighs as she collapses onto the cushions, waiting for minji and danielle to come over.

then her thoughts race back to you, embarassingly enough. she thinks about your stupid flirting, your stupid voice, and the stupid giggle she could hear through the phone. she thinks about how stupid she is for smiling, how stupid she is. everything is stupid.

hanni is fantasizing about some random person she’s ordered affordable chinese food from, she doesn’t even know her name. 

(hanni’s brain is mush.)

instinctively, she goes through her recent calls, dialing the number of the restaurant that serves her favorite dumplings. 

it rings for a few seconds before someone answers, “hello?”

the voice isn’t familiar whatsoever, hanni feels a strange discomfort in her stomach. 

hanni doesn’t realize that she hasn’t spoken a word until the second “hello?” is uttered. she breaks from her trance.

“hi, hello, yeah, hi.”

“hello, what can i get you?”

hanni purses her lips before replying, “oh, um.” she sounds like a sad child. “fried rice, i’ll do chicken. wontons, fried, twelve of them. could i also get beef-broccoli lo mein?”

she hears nothing for about three seconds, then a hum. “got it, could i get a name for that order?”

“hp.” 

“y/n’s ‘hp?’” who the hell is y/n? hanni thinks to herself. 

“what?”

“nevermind.” the worker says with her monotone voice. “will that be it?”

“yeah, thank you.” hanni doesn’t say ‘love you’ this time. she tells herself it’s because she’s not preoccupied with at least three things in that same moment, but a part of it is because it’s not the same voice that she had been expecting to hear. “what’s the total?”

“$24.12. it’ll be over in a little more than twenty minutes.”

“okay, thank you.” hanni says, and instead of hearing something snarky back—she hears a hum, and then the call ends.

…

you walk into work later than usual, one of your midterms had been pushed a bit later, so your hours were cut off. 

as you walk in, you catch your coworker’s head snap up. as soon as she realizes it’s you, she relaxes a bit.

“good evening haerin!” you beam, somehow upbeat and lively even after your grueling calculus midterm. “miss me?”

“just had to take more calls than i ever do in one week.” she sighs, watching you move over behind the counter and push your bag under the desk. “so maybe a little.”

“awww, you missed me so much.”

“shut up.” haerin groans, sitting down in the little chair where no customers can catch her. “you know what you missed?”

“what?”

“your girlfriend called—miss hp.”

“hp?!” you say it like you’ve just missed the train that comes every two hours. “seriously? did she say ‘love you?’”

“of course that’s what you’re so animated about.” haerin rolls her eyes at you, shrugging. “she didn’t.”

a sigh of relief escapes your lips, a very exaggerated one for that matter. then you frown, sitting down in the spinny chair nearby and rotating yourself in your seat like a little kid.

“i can’t believe i missed her.”

“you’re actually insane for flirting with a customer.”

“she has a cute voice.”

“you don’t even know her y/n.” haerin scoots over, but only to flick you in the forehead. she leans back in her seat, smirking. you rub your skin and pout at her, making her roll her eyes once more before she continues on, “she could be old, crinkly, and married or something. what if she’s like… balding? what if her teeth are falling out and she—”

“why are you assuming the worst haerin. you’re so— whatever. she sounds my age, i guess. it’s just fun to mess around, it’s cute.”

“i will never get you.” your coworker crosses her arms, jumping at the sound of the phone ringing. “could you get that? i’ve run out of social battery.”

“it’s a phone call haerin.”

“talking to you drained me already.”

you frown, making her giggle at you.

—

the next time hanni calls is two days later, because she’s a loser that can’t seem to get the thought of the chinese restaurant employee who keeps flirting with her (albeit smoothly) out of her head. the phone rings twice, then someone picks up, and hanni waits eagerly.

“hi, pledis plates, how can i help?” it’s you, it’s you. the memory of hearing ‘y/n’s hp?’ pops up in her head—could you be y/n? you have to be.

“hi.” hanni says simply, biting the inside of her lip. she hears a small chuckle on the other end of the line, slightly relieved.

“if it isn’t hp.” it comes out cheeky, making hanni blush. “missed you, you know?”

“what?”

“did you miss me too?”

“i–” yes. hanni did miss you, not like she’d admit it, at least out loud. “i’d like to order dumplings.”

“harsh.” you respond jokingly, “six, pork, and steamed, got it.”

“you memorized it?” 

“you ordered it last time.”

hanni can’t help but laugh, smiling as she holds the phone against her ear. “you must be head over heels to be remembering my order.”

“you’re the one who confessed first though?”

“that was a mistake.”

“uh huh.” amusement is laced in your tone. “it’ll be five dollars, should be there in less than twenty.”

“great.”

 hanni doesn’t know what else to say. you both pause, letting silence and the faint static ring in your ears.

“what happened to the usual goodbye?”

hanni feels herself shrinking in her bed, feet kicking slightly, blush forming. god, she’s head over heels, she’s insane, she doesn’t know a single thing about you other than the fact that you have a really endearing voice and that your flirting is enough to have her smiling like an idiot.

“thanks, bye.” neither of you hang up after hanni says it, knowing there’s something missing. hanni pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling her stomach closing in on herself and simultaneously doing a flip. her heart nearly jumps out of her chest as she chokes out, “love you.”

“i was waiting for that one.”

“a-are you— really?”

“yeah.” you simply state, and you say nothing else but, “bye hp.”

“you’re not going to say it back?”

you grin to yourself. hanni hears a small, amused laugh fromthe other end, sending a shiver down her spine. “i don’t fold that easy, maybe next time.” you hang up right after, leaving hanni dumbfounded.

hanni looks at her phone like you’re going to call back, but you don’t. she drops the phone on her bed, putting both hands over her face and feeling her skin burn against her palms. she groans, then groans again, and sighs finally. 

maybe next time. there’s going to be a next time—hanni has that at least.

—

hanni calls again the next monday, around two days after the last call. it’s the same day she had first said the infamous ‘love you’ to you on accident. she calls at around the same time, laptop on her lap as she taps lightly on the backspace key, though not enough to actually press it. she wonders to herself for a moment, is the dent in her wallet really worth it? has she really reached rock bottom?

“pledis plates, what would you like to order?”

it’s not you. hanni sinks into the cushion of her couch and feels herself deflate. she can’t always call with the assumption that you’ll pick up, there are other employees after all. this time, it’s the same monotone voice she had heard before, a stark contrast to your flirtatious, lively tone.

“hi, i’d just like—”

“ah, hp.”

“how did you—”

“i remember your voice from last time. y/n was quite sad when she realized she’d missed your call by twenty minutes.”

“what do you mean?”

“she came into work late, midterms or something.”

midterms. the information alone gives her the assumption that you’re also in college, maybe even in her grade, and if she’s pushing it maybe you even go to her university. she conjures up a better picture of you now, not quite clear or concrete, but it’s something.

“is she a student?”

“i don’t know if i can leak that, she told me to be very secretive about her. i don’t think you’ll have trouble finding out more though, she never shuts up.”

hanni snickers, so you’re a talker too. yeah, hanni’s into that.

“well now i know her name.”

“do what you will with that.” the girl mutters. hanni hears a small sigh, then another response, “hey, y/n was curious about you. are you in high school?”

“what— no! do i sound like it?”

“you sound young.” the girl on the end of the line—haerin—shrugs. she continues, “y/n thinks you’re the same age as her, she also assumes you’re cute. i guess no one will know until a miracle happens.”

“i can’t tell if you’re insulting me.” hanni chuckles awkwardly, but haerin doesn’t respond.  “but if it helps, anyway, i’m a sophomore in college. tell her i’m interested in forensics.”

“okay.”

silence follows again, but haerin hasn’t hung up, and hanni still holds the phone against her ear expecting something more. hanni decides to take another step, asking, “y/n, how is… could you like, describe her?”

“physically or…? well, i can do a brief description. to start off: annoying, jokes a lot, pretends to be all mopey when insulted. physically: taller than me—i’d say taller than a lot of women. she has a nice smile i guess, but it’s the kind you want to wipe off her face, ugh, it’s like she’s making fun of you when she does it. her hair is also always a little messy, she says its for the ‘appeal,’ but i see none.”

hanni fights back a giggle. this woman has just spilled a good amount, a perfect amount in hanni’s eyes (any amount is alright, anything more than a name). this ‘y/n’ is tall, taller than most women, and hanni is shorter than most; hanni is into that, she loves taller girls. and messy hair too? that’s cute, probably. as long as it’s not the same type of messy that men rock around—men that barely shower or do anything. essentially: compsci majors—then hanni will be alright. you sound wonderful.

“did you want to order anything? or are did you just want to flirt with the idiot.”

“hey! hey, hey. lets not— ugh, okay, could i just get um, six pork dumplings—steamed.”

“okay.” the girl says quietly, and then hanni hears some light tapping. “six dumplings for hp.”

“hanni. it’s hanni. my name is hanni.”

“got it the first time.”

“you’re bright, aren’t you?”

“your order is going to be there later, bye.” and then the girl hangs up, leaving hanni speechless.

—

hanni waits a few days to call, because she doesn’t remember dialing on tuesdays or wednesdays and hearing a voice that brings her a little thrill. she leans against her counter waiting for a response, then lights up when she hears,

“pledis plates, how can i help?”

“y/n.” hanni says, almost relieved. “hi.”

“hi hanni.” your coworker must’ve leaked that conversation, hanni thinks. “nice to hear from you.”

“likewise.”

“can i get six dumplings? pork and—”

“---steamed, yes.” you’re smiling as you say it, like an eager little child. “nothing else?”

“no.”

“alright.” you respond, clicking two tabs and ringing up her order. you don’t give her the cost or anything, staring at the screen and deciding to huff out, “forensics?” you’re starting a real conversion now, what a step.

hanni is smiling hard, she’s so giddy that she’s twirling a piece of hair around her pointer finger. 

“yeah, i think it’s nice.”

“cute.” you mumble, “i’m studying kinesiology.”

“is that so?”

“unfortunately.” you say lightheartedly. hanni doesn’t know what to respond with, she wants to continue the conversation and hear your voice longer, but there’s nothing she can think of. does she ask for your number? how you are? hanni is useless, she’s always been useless when it came to girls.

“hanni?”

“y-yes?” hanni cringes at the slight stutter.

“your total is five dollars. it’ll be there soon.”

“oh,” hanni says sadly, “i mean, um. okay.”

and then she hangs up, a little defeated, but there’s always a next time…right?

when her food gets there, she hurriedly pays the delivery driver, making her wallet cry even more. there’s a note in the bag, along with two fortune cookies. the note has your name and a number on it, making hanni gasp and smile to herself again. there’s a little ‘text me, miss hanni. i’m looking forward to it.’ and as soon as hanni reads it, she clasps her hands together, squeals quietly into them, giggles, and kicks her feet in the air.

hanni tries to do some schoolwork, managing to get ten minutes of reading down, a few sentences jotted down, and then the rest of the time she’s thinking about her new saved contact. she hasn’t texted you yet, mainly because she had been overthinking about what and when to text you. she contemplates texting danielle and minji about it, but she’d just be teased. 

this is the first time in a while since hanni’s gotten anywhere close to something romantic, or maybe this is platonic, but the flirting doesn’t support that idea. she’s tried tinder—once, once and never again—and going to parties. nothing works out, none of them make her giddy and giggly like this. 

before she knows it, two hours have passed, and so she decides to send a simple “hi, this is hanni!’ 

too enthusiastic? too bland? too basic? ugh. hanni groans, lying on her couch in an uncomfortable position.

you reply almost immediately with ‘hey, i’m off in twenty minutes. let’s call?’ and hanni has to put the phone to her chest, looking up at the ceiling in disbelief.

twenty minutes passes by too quickly, hanni hasn’t even figured out what to say. she looks at her phone, waiting for you to call, and when you do, she short circuits; hanni drops her phone on her face.

“hello?” it’s you.

it’s you.

“hey. um, how was work?”

“aw, even asking me about work.” she can hear the smirk in your tone, rolling her eyes as she smiles to herself. “it was fine, my favorite part was when this girl ordered pork dumplings though. she has a cute voice.”

“is that so?”

“yeah. hey, can i ask you something?”

“what is it?”

“i work tomorrow, but its the morning shift. i end at one, i was you know… wondering if you… wanted…” you sound nervous, this is a first for hanni. “if you wanted to share some dumplings, free of charge.”

hanni covers her mouth almost immediately, suppressing any signs of her freaking out.

“are you asking me out?”

“only if you say yes.”

you hear a giggle before you hear a “yes.”

“really?”

“mhm.” hanni smiles again, thinking of something that’ll leave you just as flustered. “okay, well… i’ll see your tomorrow. bye, love you.”

“love you too hanni.”

—

minji’s usually the one who picks up orders if it’s not delivery, and hanni is almost always taking the orders. so when hanni enters the shop for the first time, she’s quite fond of the smell of ingredients being stir fried or steamed, as well as the interior of the place. it’s very nice inside, hopefully the nice person she’s been meaning to see shows up soon.

there’s a girl by the counter, she’s only slightly taller than hanni, and her eyes are oddly cat-like. she looks up at her with those eyes, then shoots a small smile.

“hi, how can i help?” this is who the monotone voice belongs to. her image somehow matches perfectly with the voice.

“hi, i’m hanni.” as soon as she introduces herself, the workers eyes widen.

“woah, you’re real.”

“surprising, i know.”

“y/n is changing in the back—she was eager to get off fives minutes early so she wouldn’t be in uniform when you showed up.” haerin explains, shaking her head. “it’s nice to meet you, you’re very pretty.”

“thank you! i appreciate it. you’re pretty as well.”

haerin doesn’t get to respond. the person who does respond is the girl walking up to the register, scooting haerin to the side with her knuckles and tapping at the screen. the girl isn’t in uniform, and she’s also really good looking. 

you run a hand through your hair as you clock out through the system. “hey, did hanni ever stop by?” you ask haerin, not looking up from the screen because you’ve typed your code in wrong. 

“look up idiot.” your coworker snickers, and when you do, you’re met with the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen.

you notice her right away, hair flowing down past her chest, curtain bangs perfectly framing her face. her plump lips and striking features make you pause. sure, you expected her to be pretty—maybe even conventionally attractive, everyone is in their own way—but seeing her in person? she’s beyond that, practically model material. my god. your lips part slightly in surprise, and you catch yourself, quickly swallowing as you both smile at each other at the same time.

you clock out—thankfully not typing in the wrong code again from nervousness—and step out from behind the counter. a small tote bag hangs from your shoulder, and a plastic bag dangles in your hand. you glance down at it.

“twelve dumplings—steamed, pork, everything you like—for the pair.”

hanni’s smile lights up her face, and you can't help but think about how adorable she looks, how effortlessly charming she is.

“why thank you,” she says, her voice soft and playful. it sounds better in person than through the phone.

“you’re gorgeous, by the way,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, still marveling at her. “like, i expected you to be pretty, but… wow.” you can tell haerin is fake gagging or rolling her eyes or something like that from behind, she’s probably already on her way to avoid witnessing this interaction.

hanni blushes instantly, the red creeping up her cheeks. if she were at home, she’d probably be giggling and kicking her feet, but for now, she just looks away shyly, smiling. “thanks, you’re really cute too.”

“you think?”

“yes.” she meets your eyes, still flushed. “can we eat? i’m hungry.”

“right, yeah. i hope it’s not too forward, but is the park nearby good? we can settle down and, um… talk more. you know, more than just about your usual order.��

hanni laughs—you might die right then and there—before responding, “that’s perfect,” and then she nods, looking at you. her eyes are soft and warm and wonderful.

“great,” you echo.

“great,” she repeats, a small laugh escaping her.

you both walk side by side, still a little stiff at first, the mutual attraction between you creating an unspoken tension. but as you settle into the rhythm of conversation, the initial awkwardness fades away, replaced by the easy flow of natural chemistry. each step feels lighter, the distance between you shrinking with every passing word.

—

—

—

hanni hears a knock at her door, confused because she hadn’t expected any guests other than minji and danielle—who are already in her living room leeching off her netflix account. 

she opens it to see you, which immediately brings a smile to her face. she almost leaps over to hug you, nearly making you drop the large bag in your hand.

“someone missed me.”

“shut up.” hanni says before pecking your lips. she looks at you, your dorky, adorable face, and then presses another longer kiss. “come in babe. i didn’t expect you to be here.”

“i got off early because i had to cover. i wanted to surprise you, and i know you had company over.”

“oh yeah,” hanni had almost forgotten that her best friends had been there.

she leads you over, helping you take off your tote and setting it on her counter. her friends catch the two of you from their peripheral and wave, then their eyes light up at the sight of the familiar bag in your hand. you set it down, placing a the container of fried rice, lo mein, and dumpling down as they treat you like a savior.

“thank you so much, i owe you my first born.” danielle says, giving you a playful pout.

minji snickers, scooting up to the coffee table. “you’re the best thing that’s happened to us—to hanni.”

you look over to your girlfriend, that’s right, she’s your girlfriend. hanni is rolling her eyes at you, pushing your shoulder, and then pulling you in by the wrist to sit next to her. she’s not one for pda—especially in front of danielle and minji—but under the table her fingers graze your skin, which makes you smile.

you grab a secret container from behind your back, handing it to hanni. when she opens it, she opens her mouth, shocked and grateful for the six steamed pork dumplings that you brought just for her.

[emotionoitme]

nectar of the gods

nectar of the gods - lana del rey

part 2 of don’t call my name

warnings: jealousy, the c word (claire), pervy carmy but that’s a given, date gone wrong (pushy man & use of some force. nothing bad happens), guard dog carmy, small argument. nasty smut: themes of brat tamer carmy, female masturbation, teasing + condescending dirty talk, fingering, squirting, biting, kissing, unprotected sex (oops), slight size kink, he doesn’t choke her but he holds her neck, slight breeding kink, ok maybe not so slight, she gets fucked kind of stupid. 

wc: 9.5k

a/n: thanks so much for the love on part one! let me know what u think of this one!! <3 enjoy the nastiness

playlist

the weeks that followed the soft touches and heated kisses were, to say the least, awkward. 

carmen has never been the strongest communicator, and working long hours at the bear conveniently meant they didn’t really see much of each other. 

unluckily for him, she conveniently seemed to be home when he had invited claire over to talk.

in his defense, it was a late night, heat of the moment decision. one in which he was caught in a weak spot–feeling lonely and, admittedly, thinking obsessively of his roommate. a decision he deeply regretted the following day, when he had checked his messages and saw she said yes. 

claire came over for morning coffee when carmy decided to go into work late. she gave him a enthusiastic greeting when he opened the door, rushing forward to hug him. it didn’t feel right, but he reciprocated. 

“so good to see you, carm,” she told him, warmly. 

“hey, you too,” eyes glancing over to the clock beside the door, “you’re early.” 

she pulled back, smiling. 

“i thought you’d be happy to have more time with me.”

he gestured her in and shut the door. he hadn’t really wanted her to come at all once he woke up, but how could she have known that? 

he felt stupid. 

“i, am” he replied unenthusiastically, “but my, um…. my roommate is still home.” 

“you have a roommate now?” she asked. 

“yeah, just for a while. want to go outside?” he questioned, eyes darting to the stairs. 

“can’t we just sit at the table? it’s cold out.” claire followed his gaze to the staircase. 

he paused, sighing. 

“okay, yeah. let’s sit at the table.” hand running through his hair, pulling slightly. he forced himself to sit and meet her gaze, asking her how she’s been, trying to pay attention. trying to care. 

a few minutes into their conversation, he heard soft footsteps approaching from behind. 

“goodmorning,” his roommate called out, smiling at claire. carmen whipped his head around. she was dressed for work. she looked good. 

“oh. hi,” claire returned, “you’re carmy’s roommate?” the surprise evident in her voice. 

“only short term,” she replied, shooting carmen a glance, “and you are?”

“i’m claire,” she returned with a smile, “i’m his-”

“she’s my friend.” carmy interrupted, watching as claire’s eyebrows shot up at this. 

“umm, we’re a little more than friends,” claire laughed, turning to his roommate, “me and carm have known eachother since we were kids. and we dated for a while, didn’t we, bear?”

he watched as his roommate widened her eyes a bit, nodding.

“how sweet. you guys are so cute together, you should date again,” sickly enthusiasm rung from her voice, “nice to meet you claire, but i’ve gotta get to work.”

“so nice meeting you! i’ll see you around.”

his roommate didn’t respond, quickly walking to the kitchen to grab a thermos of coffee then rushing out the door, letting it slam behind her. 

“she’s cute,” claire complimented, “should i be worried?” her tone joking, but still locking eyes with carmen. he stayed silent, rubbing a hand over his face, then exhaling. 

“listen, claire, you, uh…. you’ve gotta go. i’m sorry for inviting you.” 

“what?”

he left for work as soon as she was out the door, trying to distract himself from the reminder of all the people he had hurt so early in the morning. 

besides that tense interaction, he didn't see his roommate at all for about a week and a half. 

that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still think about her, though. in fact, it felt like he couldn’t focus on anything else—the night of their hungry kisses and gentle touches playing like a loop in his head. 

he thinks of how responsive she was, how her lips felt. how he longed to hear her beg for him. 

almost two whole weeks passed, and he still wasn’t man enough to face her, making sure he was in the restaurant until late at night and out of the apartment extra early in the morning. 

he scrubbed at the stovetop, remembering the smell of her skin. yearning for it. he stood at the expo and barked directions, skin prickling with the memory of her touch. the slight drag of her nails across his abdomen. how eager she was. 

that morning, as the sun just began to flood through the windows, he found himself passing by her room, glancing through the open door. 

he stopped himself as soon as he passed, taking a step backwards to get another look. 

she lay sleeping on her side, facing away from him, one leg resting on top of the duvet. her breath was steadily rising and falling, big shirt was bunched up over her waist, allowing him the pleasure of gliding his eyes along the curve of her bare waist. he savors the moment, gaze gliding down to her hip, then falling on the little blue pair of underwear that clung to her ass. 

and yes, he felt like a creep, but he still continued to stand there and watch her for a few minutes, wishing he could take a picture to remember the captivating sight. 

instead he just forced himself to walk away. 

it’s a long, stressful day of refires, late tickets, and continuous yelling. 

carmen only gets home shy of midnight, basking in the still silence of the apartment as the door latches. he slips his coat off and hangs his keys on the hook—the key hook she put up, after the 5th time he had asked her if she had seen his keys. 

hers were gone, surprisingly. he wonders where she could’ve been at midnight with a nervous uncertainty. 

carmen makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing a cold glass of water before walking over to the couch to collapse. 

the living room was illuminated in a soft lamp light. he loved that there would be lights on when he came home. it felt less lonely, somehow. 

his eyes glance around the room, noting the addition of potted plants, some throw pillows and blankets, art, framed pictures. some of her family, some of his. 

it had thrown him off, a bit, to come home one day, before the awkwardness, to see a framed picture of him and mikey standing on one of the living room’s side tables. he hardly recognized the old picture, studying it with disbelief. on that day, he picked it up and walked to his roommate’s door, knocking softly. 

“come in,” she had called. 

he opened the door, and found her sitting at her vanity, combing her hair. he held up the picture, pointing to it. 

“shit, i’m sorry. i should’ve asked,” she started to explain. 

“-no, no, i was, uh, just a little surprised,” he reassured, “where did you get this from?” 

she set her comb down on the vanity and turned to face him. 

“it was in a box at the back of my closet,” she told him, “lots of pictures. i promise i didn’t go through it. that one was just at the top. and i thought it was sweet. i was just thinking since i have so many up of my family, you would-” 

“-no, yeah. thank you. it was really nice of you,” he admitted, “just caught me off guard.”

she gave him a sympathetic smile. 

he fondly recalls the memory as he studied the decorations. never before had his home felt so much like a home.  

he lets his eyes shut slowly, basking in the comfort of the plush couch. around 20 minutes pass until he hears muffled voices from outside the unit, then the sound of keys fumbling with the lock. 

his stomach drops a little at the thought of having to face her, so he keeps his eyes closed, hoping he could ignore the interaction all together. as the door swings open, he hears her voice. 

“okay, thanks. i’ll see you around,” tiredness evident in her tone. then, a man’s voice. 

“it’s a nice place. what’s the inside like?” 

carmen feels a surge of annoyance. was she bringing men over? 

“it’s, uh, nice too. i have to get up early tomorrow though, so-”

“we had a nice time, right? let’s keep it going.” the man’s tone becomes pushier. carmen’s annoyance turns to anger. who did this douchebag think he was? he hears his roommate release a sardonic chuckle. 

“listen, dude, get out. i’m not interested.” her tone firm and assertive. carmen sits up slightly to peek over the couch. 

“god, i can’t stand women like you,” the stranger retorts, “a $200 check, and you’re not even gonna invite me in?”

carmen watches as she tries to close the door. the man puts his arm out, aggressively pushing it back open. he sits up the rest of the way, having had enough of the interaction. 

“hey fuckhead,” he barks. the stranger’s eyes dart to him, clearly surprised there was another person home. 

“she said get out.” his jaw is tight, eyes wide, staring the man down. “we gonna have a fuckin’ problem?” 

the stranger puts his hands up in defense, taking a step back. 

“hey, no problem here, man. just trying to say goodni-”

she slams the door in his face, latching the deadbolt. the girl lets out a heavy sigh before glancing over to where carmen sits. 

“thanks,” she mumbles, hanging up her keys and taking her jacket off. he glances over the skin-tight long sleeve dress she was wearing. 

“who was that?” he asks immediately, trying to keep the hint of possessiveness out of his voice. she leans down to slide her heels off, glancing up at him. 

“a date.” 

he continues to stare at her, hoping she would elaborate. instead, she ignores him, walking to the kitchen and putting the tea kettle on to boil. he stands and follows her, brow twitching. 

“you, uh, going on dates now?” he questions, hands coming to his hips. 

“yep,” she curtly replies, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and placing a teabag inside. 

“with guys like that, huh? nice.” he scoffs. the man has trouble rationalizing why he feels so aggravated. 

“fuck off, carmen,” she sharply retorts, refusing to turn toward him, “it’s none of your business.”

“it is when you bring them here” he argues. 

“what, like how you brought your little girlfriend over?” she yanks open the fridge and grabs the milk.

“she is not my girlfriend” he asserts. 

the girl rolls her eyes and ignores him, turning the burner off at the sound of the kettle whistling, pouring the hot water into her mug. he moves closer to her, staring at the side of her face.

“she’s not,” he emphasizes. the added pressure makes her feel compelled to respond. 

“well, she’s something to you,” she argues, setting the kettle back down harder than she intended, turning to face him. she immediately wishes she hadn’t, the intensity of his eyes setting her ablaze, skin prickling. it makes her a little weak in the knees to be face to face with him again, as much as she hated to admit it. 

“no, she isn’t, i- fuck…i had this weak moment after…you and i kissed, and it-,” he exhales, pausing. “i didn’t realize how much i missed…that kind of thing. so i invited her over. and immediately fuckin’ regretted it when she said yes.” 

“why?” she asks softly. 

“why’d i regret it?” he clarifies. she nods. 

he takes a small step closer to her. 

“because i don’t want that kind of thing with claire,” he confesses. 

she doesn’t know what to say, instead just watches him, studying his face. she catches the split second his eyes dart down to her lips, and feels what little resolve she has begin to crumble, so she turns away from him, back to her tea, and begins to stir in some milk. 

“okay,” her reply comes softly, “i get it.” 

“yeah?” he presses, eyes locked on her. 

“yeah,” she responds, “i know how it feels. to get…lonely like that. so truce.” 

he lets out a breath of relief, threading his fingers through his hair. 

silence, for a moment. he watches her bring the hot drink up to her lips and take a small sip. carmy is the one to break the silence. 

“is that, uh, the reason you’re going on dates, then?” he pries.

“what, because of loneliness?” she asks, warming her hands on the mug. he gives her a small nod, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. 

“yeah. i guess so” she responds, “with these… weirdos that don’t let me know they’re weirdos until it’s too late.” her gaze fixes on a point in front of her, unfocused. she stays like this for a moment, then breaks her trance, eyes coming to carmy’s face. his sweet and handsome face. 

“i’m really glad you were here, by the way.” she adds softly. 

he doesn’t know what to say for a second, shaking his head. trying to push away the anxiety that came with what could’ve happened to her, had he not been on the couch at that exact moment. 

“yeah. me too.” he replies soberly. she watches his serious expression, eyes locked. the girl can’t help but break out into a grin and softly giggle. she leans back against the counter.

“it was kinda sexy, too,” she quips, “watching you get all mad like that.” 

carmy can’t help the smile that breaks his solemnity.

“fuck off,” he amuses, shaking his head. she begins to laugh. he likes it a lot. 

“seriously,” she presses still smiling, “it was-…i liked it.” she gave a nod of her head. 

he just keeps staring at her with a soft smile on his face.

“well i don’t wanna yell at anyone else. so no more guys over.”

“oh yeah?” her tone teasing, “it’s kind of your fault that i even went on a date in the first place” she chimes, taking another sip of tea. 

“my fault?” he asks, eyebrows lifting. 

“yeah. i mean, i wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such a…fucking tease.” she tells him, smiling against the lip of her mug

that was the last thing he expected her to say, letting out a small scoff at her bluntness. 

“i’m the tease?” he asks in disbelief. if only she knew the relentless battles he fought internally from the second he first saw her. she’d been teasing him without knowing it for weeks. 

“you wanted me to beg,” she reminds him, “and then, you left me. i had to fend for myself.” 

he knew. he could hear her through the door. 

“yeah, uh,” he fights the smile that creeps onto his face, “sorry about that.” 

“that’s okay,” she replies, “cause i’m gonna give you payback.” 

“payback?” he amuses, eyes creeping down her face, briefly falling to her chest and admiring the scoop neck dress she wore. okay, maybe not briefly. 

she nods, stepping forward into his personal space, only inches apart. his eyes dart back up to meet hers.  she keeps her gaze locked with his and slides her fingers under his white shirt, ghosting over the deep cut lines of his hips. 

carmen’s breath stills as she hooks the waistband of his pants, leaning in to softly kiss his neck. she peppers sweet kisses up to his ear, then gently catches his lobe in between her teeth. her hands trail up, splaying across his stomach and feeling the firm muscle. carmen clenches his teeth as her lips begin moving along the base of his jaw. 

she had barely touched him and yet that burning sensation begins to creep up his skin. 

once her lips make it to his chin, she straightens and pulls him into her. 

he feels his breath skip.  

the girl hovers her lips over his, giving him only a light impression of touch. the front of her body is flush against his, and she can feel his hardness pressing into her. 

carmy knows exactly what she’s doing, and he doesn’t feel entirely enthusiastic about being teased. 

he glides his hand under her jaw, fingers carding through her hair and resting near the base of her skull. he grabs it tightly and she lets out a soft whimper, lips parting. the sound is too sweet for him to maintain his composure—he wants to taste it. 

carmen pulls her into his lips impatiently, relishing the supple feeling of her mouth. their lips lock together desperately, kisses in tandem. with a last, slow kiss she pulls away with a small grin on her face. his hand still entangles with her hair, eyed fixated on her lips. 

“that all you gonna give me?” he grumbles lowly.

she nods, “mmhm,” and her lip catches between her teeth. 

his free hand comes to grab her side, thumb pressing into her hip bone. she arches into his touch, lids heavy, body increasingly hot. he meets her eyes. 

“you’re…” he exhales, smile creeping at the edges of his lips, “you’re a little brat. y’know that?”  

“you like it,” she argues softly.

she’s wrong, he thinks, he loves it. 

she smooths her hand up his abdomen, fingers pressing into the firm muscle. he tenses under the rousing touch, then groans as she gently drags her nails down the length of his stomach. 

she feels his bulge twitch against her pelvis.

the girl smiles at this, satisfied with her work of payback. she doesn’t give him a chance to respond before she pulls away completely. 

he blinks a few times, processing the loss of heat, watching as she turns to walk out of the kitchen.

he almost follows her, too, but stops in his tracks when she calls goodnight. 

fucking tease. 

-

it was after 1am by the time the girl had showered and completed her nighttime routine, peeling back her duvet and slipping into the silky sheets. 

she tried desperately to clear her mind over the past hour, having difficulty thinking of anything besides her roommate. anything besides how much she had turned herself on in the process of “payback”. 

she lays flat on her back, then turns to her side. then she turns to the other side. then flat on her stomach. the girl releases a sigh of frustration. nothing was comfortable. every inch of her body felt hot. carmy’s lips felt so fucking good. 

the heater is too loud. the streetlights are shining through the curtains. she wants to take him inside of her. 

her hand sneaks underneath the duvet, brushing over her hardened nipples, trailing down her stomach and creeping under the waistband of her panties. 

she thinks about how much she liked kissing him as she begins to drag her finger through her folds. she thinks about how he would always hold himself back. it was easy to tell—he would tighten his jaw and his eyes would get dark, giving her this look at her as if he wanted to devour her whole. she feels herself getting wet, beginning to circle around her clit, frustration at the dull ache within that seemed incurable no matter how much she tried to pleasure herself. 

the girl feels so desperate laying in her bed that she decides she would take whatever carmen would give her.

even if that meant having to beg for it. 

she rips her hand out of her panties and flings the duvet off of her, sharply exhaling as the cool surrounding air kisses her skin. she throws her legs over the side of the bed and stands up. maybe a cold glass of water would help. 

the temperature drops as she exits her room. clad in only underwear and a cropped tank top, goosebumps begin to rise on her skin

as she makes her way down the hallway, curious eyes land on carmen’s cracked door. she stops and takes a peek inside. 

the outside streetlights flood in through his window too, yet there he lay sleeping heavily, completely unbothered. 

she pushes the door open a little more, just out of curiosity. 

he lay on his back, shirtless, with an arm thrown over his face, chest rising and falling steadily. watching him did nothing more than worsen the desire she felt. 

she inches into the room almost uncontrollably, coming to stand next to his bed. 

before she gains enough sense to turn away and leave, she peels back his sheets and slides in next to him. the man shifts a bit, then settles back into his slumber. 

she feels kind of creepy just watching him, but he looks so incredibly handsome in his relaxed state, his plump lips parting with soft exhales. 

she feels such little control over herself, thinking of how she wants to feel him. wants to taste his skin. 

fuck it.

she slowly pulls the sheets down and off of him. he’s wearing a pair of boxer briefs and she can’t help but release a breath of anticipation at the sight. she leans forward and crawls over his sleeping form, straddling him, hands coming to his chest. 

she watches as his head turns and his arm falls from his face, eyes blearily blinking open. 

his eyes meet hers, a stunned expression on his face. 

carmen thinks he’s dreaming at first—the sight above him all too similar to the filthy dreams he had been having lately. 

“uh, hey” he hesitates, voice deep and raspy, heavy with sleep. 

“hi,” she whispers. 

his eyes scan over her form and take in her position. her lack of clothes. she can feel him growing beneath where she sits. 

the girl smiles, giggling softly. 

a lazy smirk grows on his face at this, and he closes his eyes again.

“fingers not doin’ it for you anymore?” 

“shut up,” she retorts, slightly embarrassed. she hates how he knows. “i just wanted to…come see if you were sleeping well,” 

carmy opens his eyes again and his smirk morphs to a grin, arms folding behind his head.

“i was” he confirms, lazily blinking, “but then i got, uh, woken up.” 

“sorry” she sweetly exhales, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “i, um…” her eyes rake down his handsome face, losing her lame excuse completely. she’s silent, zeroed in on his lips with an overwhelming urge to kiss him. she watches them morph to a smile. 

“c’mere,” he whispers, tilting his chin up a bit. she follows his command, almost as if in a trance, leaning forward to capture his lips in a gentle kiss.

it feels blissful, almost like everything besides the two of them fades away. 

soft kisses become deep and the gentleness seems to fade as soon as it starts. the pair mutually quicken the pace of the kisses. they become messier, more desperate. 

the girl leans into him, hand coming to the side of his neck, the other caressing his collarbones. 

carmy chases her increasingly desperate kisses, gripping her hips with both hands, cherishing the feeling of her skin. 

the girl slips her tongue into his mouth and gently moans at the feeling, with which he reciprocates, indulging in the taste of her. his fingers press into her bruisingly. 

she rocks her hips against him. the sensation shoots a spark through her spine, so she continues to rock back and forth, grinding against his bulge, moaning softly into his mouth. 

carmen kisses her roughly, gripping her hips tighter, pulling and pushing her across the length of his cock. 

her panties feel slick, core feels tight, beginning to speed up her gyrations. she can feel the head of his cock through his briefs, and quickly becomes lost in the pleasure, kissing him with a ferocity she hasn’t felt in a long time.

the sensation is incredible to carmen, becoming more pent up by the second. 

she bucks her hips wildly. it feels so fucking good.

he mindlessly tightens his grip on her hips further, and her kisses quickly stop. hips stop. with a sharp inhale and a soft “ow,” her hand comes to his wrist. 

he immediately releases his grip, eyes snapping open. 

“shit, i’m sorry,” he hurriedly apologizes, smoothing his hands over the yet-to-appear bruises—a reminder of why he had tried to force himself to take it slowly with her. “y’okay?” he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“mhmm,” she confirms, leaning down to give him a soft kiss of reassurance. “so strong,” she murmurs into his lips. he releases the breath he was holding, hands still on her hips. 

“can hardly fuckin’ control myself with you.” he admits guiltily.

“then don’t,” she replies softly, sitting upright. 

carmen’s hand falls over his face, sighing. his fingers card through his messy hair, eyes scanning over the girl. a soft smile twitches at the edge of his lips. 

the young woman sucks in a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves from the moment. her fingers thread under the edge of her tank top, and without saying anything, she slowly peels it over her head. 

carmen groans at the reveal, and she feels a twitch underneath her. his hand comes to grab the side of her waist, thumb stroking over her stomach. he stares at her breasts in awe, trying desperately to memorize the dreamlike sight above him. 

“you’re beautiful,” he marvels, hand sliding up her stomach to her ribs, “y’know that?” fingertips grazing the underside of her breast. 

goosebumps rise on her skin from the light touch. 

“touch me,” she tells him impatiently, pushing her chest out further as to emphasize. 

the man lets out a small scoff at her tone, but gives in, cupping her breast and giving it a soft squeeze. he runs his thumb over her raised nipple, giving it a gentle pull. 

she exhales harshly. it feels as if her blood had become hot, biting down on her lip to refrain from making noise. 

carmy brings his hand to her other breast and repeats: a soft caress, then squeeze, then a tug of her nipple, harder this time. she bucks her hips at this, whimper muffled by the tightness of her teeth around her lip. carmen lets out a soft groan at the momentary friction. 

he can feel the heat from her core over his thinly clothed erection as he touches her. the man marvels at her flushed skin, the curve of her breasts, the shape of her stomach, the expression of pleasure on her face. 

she finds herself aching for the friction of a moment ago, giving another testing buck of her hips. so good.

her hands plant on his chest and she continues to slowly grind back and forth against him. the perfect angle causes her bottom lip to release from her teeth, a moan spilling out into the silence. 

carmen keeps his hands pinned to his sides as he watches her closely, clamping his teeth together, clutching his fists. anything to keep himself from spinning her around and fucking her senseless. 

the girl continues to grind against him, one hand planted on his chest and the other coming up to grab her breast. she’s completely blissed out, but carmen feels hungry—her teasing movements not fully satiating. he can feel her wetness begin to seep through and slick the fabric of his boxers. 

“jesus, you’re fuckin’ killing me,” he strains, feeling his patience wear thin, “do something.” sounding almost like a plead.

she smiles, head falling back in pleasure, continuing to chase her high. her eyelids flutter at the pleasure, rocking back and forth.

carmy groans her name, followed by a “c’mon.” 

“ask nicely” comes her taunt, followed by a breathy laugh, continuing to pleasure herself. 

carmen decides he’s done playing with her. he plants his arm on the bed and sits up quickly, pushing her back against the bed, watching her eyes snap open to protest the loss of pleasure. 

“quiet,” he demands, cutting her off. she shuts her mouth, a look of disappointment on her face. he dips down to nuzzle her neck and hide his forming smile, peppering gentle kisses into her skin. her smell is almost intoxicating. carmen grips her waist as he kisses her neck slowly trailing down to her collarbones. he hooks his thumb into the side of her panties and shuffles them down her thighs. 

the girl breathes heavily, skin tingling in the wake of his touch. 

the man dips his hand into her panties, fingers slipping between her folds, feeling her wetness. 

“fuck,” he growls into her neck, “all this for me?” beginning to slowly circle her clit, the noise of her slickness like music to the man. 

she stays quiet, eyelids as heavy as her breathing. 

“hm? c’mon” he pushes, coming up from her neck and looking her in the eye, “tell me, pretty girl.” 

the name causes her chest to flutter, allowing a soft whimper to spill from her lips. the intensity of the sensation in tandem with his eye contact makes her feel dizzy. makes her less embarrassed about showing appreciation. 

“s’all for you, carm” she softly moans.

his fingers continue softly circling around the bundle of nerves, every few moments dipping into her opening to collect more wetness. 

she teases down his abdomen and slips into his briefs, wrapping around his erection. 

carmen softly groans, then inserts a finger, beginning to drag it in and out along her walls. she softly gasps at the feeling, and he can feel her squeeze his cock. 

“more,” she demands softly, starting to stroke him. 

he obeys, inserting a second finger, feeling more resistance now. she gasps. 

he plants a gentle kiss on her cheek, then shuffles down to kiss at her breasts. down where she couldn’t stroke him anymore. the loss of her touch feels cold, so he fucks her with his fingers a little faster to make up for it.

as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, she can feel her juices trickling down her thighs and onto the bed, a bit embarrassed about the mess she can feel herself making on his sheets. 

wet squelching sounds start to reverberate through the quiet room as carmy speeds his fingers up, softly nipping at her perked bud. the girl claps a hand over her mouth, muffling a boisterous moan. 

“hand off,” he growls, sending her a warning glance. she ignores him and closes her eyes, continuing to muffle her sounds of desperation, biting into her hand. 

his jaw clenches, and he pauses his movements. with his free hand he grabs her one wrist, then the other, and pins them over her head. 

the girl’s eyes snap open, and she attempts to fight against his single-handed hold. she gives her best effort, but in her weakened state her struggles do nothing against the man’s strength, so she just huffs. 

carmen scoffs at this, towering over her, beginning to slowly resume the movement of his fingers inside of her. he watches her face closely as he continues—studying the way her eyelids flutter, how her lips part, how her breathing picks up again, how she tries so desperately to hold onto her moans by biting into the flesh of her lips. 

he draws his fingers completely out of her, then slowly reinserts them, curling upwards and beginning to rhythmically thrust them into her. she releases the hold of her lip with a loud moan, unable to stifle it at the new positioning of his fingers. he smiles, having accomplished his goal. his fingers curl further into her. 

the girl begins to feel a bit of panic, an intense and unfamiliar sensation building up within her stomach. not an orgasm, but a deep, hot, wet feeling. with her arms pinned above her head, all she can do is take it.  

carmen speeds up the motion, thumb coming to brush against her clit. 

“fuck!” she yelps, arching into his touch. her mouth falls open, unashamed moans starting to pour out. his pace is relentless, and it feels too good to try and refrain anymore. 

“yeah?” he asks, tone cool and calm, getting a sick type of pleasure from watching her unravel beneath him. he curls his fingers up further, hand becoming soaked with her arousal. 

“mmh-carm, that’s-” she’s cut off by another whine, gaze flickering down to where he was rhythmically pounding his fingers into her. “ah-you…mmmh sogood,” she babbles, completely lost in his touch. 

carmy feels his composure crumbling, groaning at the way she was reacting. 

“c’mon, baby, let go,” he growls, palm sloppily smacking against her clit as he drives his fingers into her. her eyes roll back a bit, and with a final few curls of his fingers she does exactly what he says and lets go, giving into the sensation. the hot, wet tightness within her core bursts, flooding throughout her whole body. 

“fuuckk” she hears him groan, his voice seeming distant. 

her muscles convulse with orgasm, eyes tightly shut and mouth open. everything feels so wet. his fingers slow in pace, remaining deeply lodged inside her, releasing the grip of her wrists from overhead. 

it seems as if the only thing she can concentrate on is trying to remember how to breathe. as she struggles to blink her eyes open, she’s met with a handsome face that stares back at her with what seems like both shock and amazement.

“whathappened?” she jumbledly breathes out. 

he just groans again, dipping down to kiss the girl, big hand grabbing her face. his fingers are wet and sticky on her face. she eagerly reciprocates his kiss, hands coming to feel his chest, a pulsing in her lower stomach. 

carmy plants a kiss to her cheek then sits upright again. she pushes herself up onto her forearms, attempting to reorient. her gaze comes to where he kneels, then falls on the dark spot on the sheets that surrounds them, as if something had spilled. her brows furrow as she pulls her eyes back up to carmy. his face is flushed and pupils dilated, gripping onto the backs of her thighs. 

“you, uh…. god that was fucking hot,” he says with an unwavering stare. 

“did i do that?” she gasps, “fuck, i’m sorry, i’ve never-” hand coming over her mouth in embarrassment, “i’ll wash your sheets. or buy you new ones.” her face turns hot and red. 

he swipes his fingers over her opening, collecting her wetness, then sucks them into his mouth. 

her eyes widen, watching him savor the taste of her. 

“carm, say something,” she begs, still partially mortified. 

“you taste good,” he replies, pulling her closer by her thighs. there’s an animalistic glint in his eyes. 

“not about that,” she looks away out of embarrassment. 

“m’gonna make you do it again,” he strains, pulling down the band of his boxers and allowing his erection to spring free. he works to shuffle them down his thighs.

her short-lived embarrassment dissipates completely at the sight of his cock. he’s thick, and slightly curved, throbbing with arousal, emerging from a dark bush of curls. her breath hitches, and she almost moans at the sight, instinctively spreading her legs further apart for him.

carmen grabs a pillow and lifts her legs, tucking it under her tailbone and pulling her in closely. he begins to glide his head in between her folds, collecting her slick. he nudges against her clit, and she gasps, covering her mouth.  

“y’okay?” he checks, locking eyes with her. she nods her head. 

“mhm, just….be gentle,” she pleads, “please,” slightly intimidated by his girth. 

“i will be,” he nods, giving her a sincere look, “promise.”

she nods back, a signal to go ahead. 

carmy pushes against her opening, slipping his head in slowly. they release a breathy moan in tandem.

he pushes forward until he finds resistance at less than halfway in.  

“fuck,” she pants, hand flying up to grab his wrist. 

“doin’ so good,” he praises, “tell me when you want me to keep going.”

the girl nods, eyes shutting tightly, trying to adjust to the imposing stretch. she releases her grip on him, trailing her fingers down her body to rub circles into her clit. she feels herself relax a bit at the pleasure as carmy’s eyes stay glued to her, watching her every move with enthusiasm. her slow circles speed up ever so slightly, letting out a gentle moan, droopy eyes coming to meet those of the man above her. it feels so good, and she clenches around him. the only thing that would make it better would be-

“kiss me,” she pleads. 

he studies her swollen lips, flushed face, sweet doe eyes—he can’t help but mindlessly obey, caging her with his forearms.

the intoxicating mix of carmen’s kisses and the work of her fingers help her relax. the grip on his wrist loosens, and carmen is able to fully sink in. he pushes forward until his hips are completely flush with hers, moaning into her mouth. she matches it with a gasp. 

the girl can’t believe how full she feels. It’s almost hard to breathe, nails digging into carmy’s bicep. he pulls away from the kiss, thumb coming to stroke the side of her cheek. 

“doin’ okay?” he asks softly. 

she has to take a moment to find her words, overcome with a dizzy head high. 

“fuck, it’s s-so big,” she stammers, both hands now gripping onto his biceps for dear life. 

he can’t help the surge that runs through him at her words, small smirk tugging at the edge of his lip. 

“yeah?” 

“mmhmmm.”

“too much f’you? want me to take it out?” he teases, knowing full well what her answer would be. 

“no!” her eyes snap open “so good, carmy. want you to fuck me.” 

he groans. 

“give it a sec. play with ‘yrself some more. fuckin’ gripping me down there.”

her chest flutters at the sound of his voice—the low growl of it that seemed to resonate through her bones. 

“please,” she begs, pressing a kiss to his lips, “want it so bad,” another kiss, “i can take it.” 

he tightens his jaw, feeling his cock twitch inside of her at the desperation in her tone. 

“you tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he asserts, hand grabbing her waist to steady himself, sitting up. she eagerly nods her head. 

carmy begins to slowly ease out, his length dragging along her tight walls, then pushes his hips forward gently, sinking into her fully. her mouth falls open, a whiny breath spills out. 

he repeats this again, this time snapping his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt. her hands smooth up his biceps and wrap behind his neck, tangling in his hair. she pulls him down to her lips, and kisses him with frenzy, then peppers kisses along his cheek and jawline.

the man swears he’s miraculously died and gone straight to heaven, even though he hadn’t been to church in ages. 

the way she smells, the feeling of her lips trailing along his face, the fucking vice grip her pussy wrapped around him with. it’s all like heaven. 

he moves slowly, rolling his hips to softly thrust in and out of her. 

the girl responds enthusiastically, bucking her hips up to accommodate him further. it feels incredible, but it’s not enough for either of them. 

he wants to be gentle with the girl, try and counter the thoughts that pop in his head whenever he looks at her. he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself if he gives in. 

so he forces himself to take it slow. and gentle and sweet. 

but the girl keeps bucking her hips up to take more of him, frustrated that he won’t get the message.

“faster,” she whines, placing a few more kisses along his face. 

he ignores her, leaning down to nuzzle her neck. his hand trails downwards, wedging it in between them to lightly rub her clit. his pace stays lazy and soft, kissing her neck. 

“carmy,” she complains, fingers carding up through his hair, “give it to me.”

he just ignores her, slowing the pace of his fingers and biting her neck. 

she gasps and yanks his hair.  

“fuck me already,” she huffs, pout on her lips. 

he growls into her neck, then pulls back, looking at her. his eyes had grown dark, eyebrows slightly twitching. a completely different expression than the soft one he wore previously. 

this one was much hungrier. 

he sits straight up, pulling her legs to be flush with his shoulders, then he practically bends her in half, hands pressing down on the backs of her thighs. 

she flushes at the new position, feeling entirely vulnerable, but too overwhelmed with lust to do anything about it. she goes to say something, but he cuts her off by snapping his hips against hers, driving himself deeply inside of her. her mouth falls open into an o shape, taken aback by the sudden change in angle. she can feel every inch of him this way, so fucking full she can’t even seem to form a thought. 

carmen eases out of her, then sinks inside again, hips slamming against hers. this time she lets out a throaty gasp, eyes droopy, completely transfixed by the sight of him above her. his chest was flushed, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. she wanted to lick it off. his messy curls bounce in time with his movements. 

he pulls back again, and snaps his hips forward, releasing a deep groan. 

she feels too full to make any sounds besides the needy gasps that pour plentifully from her lips. 

carmy smirks down at the girl, studying her blissed out expression with a sense of pride as he continually thrusts into her. his eyes fall to watch her breasts bounce in conjunction with his thrusts, and he can’t help but grab one, squeezing, brushing his thumb over her perked nipple. she arches into his touch. 

he increases his pace, hips beginning to drive into her harder. 

she can feel herself slipping into a cloudy haze, the consistent slap of his hips against hers almost meditative, a red hot pleasure circulating through her whole body. 

“look at me,” he orders, tweaking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. 

she didn’t even realize she had shut her eyes, forcing them back open to meet his gaze. 

he slides his fingers down her stomach, over her pubic hair, coming to rub her clit. slick noises fill the room as his movements are eagerly met with more and more wetness. 

she studies his handsome face, watches how his eyebrows scrunch, how he bites down onto his lip and flares his nostrils ever so slightly. she wants to have his babies, she thinks in her haze. in that moment she would willingly take anything he gave her. 

she opens her mouth to express her gratitude, but all that comes out is a loud moan. 

“yeah? y’like that?” he asks, hiking her leg further up onto his shoulder. 

“mm-hmmm,” she cries in between breaths, wincing at how deep he was going, but somehow wanting even more. 

“tell me, pretty girl. use those words.” he plants a kiss to the inside of her ankle and keeps thrusting into her. 

“fuck,” she cries, “so good, carm. sososo good.”

his circles around her clit speed up, and the pleasure pushes her to continue, embarrassment out the window. 

“love it,” she gasps, “i love it. you fuck me so good,” beginning to babble, “please don’t stop. please don’t ever stop.” 

a grin breaks his face at this, and he drives into her faster, a wet slapping resounding through the room. he kisses her ankle again, then her foot. 

“whatever you want,” he tells her sincerely. “fuckin’ perfect, y’know that?” another kiss on her foot, “like you were fuckin’ made for me.”

she opens her mouth, but her rationality kicks in and thinks it might be too early to ask him to put a baby in her. she opts to take a less direct approach. 

“cum in me,” a breathy plead, “please,” locking eyes with him. he gives a slight shake of his head, surprised by her words. surprised by how mindlessly he wants to obey. 

“fuck,” he enunciates, “you know i can’t.” the justification of why barely makes it to his mind, overcome with the flood of arousal from her words. 

“i want it,” she whines. her legs slip from his shoulders and wrap around his back, pulling him in close. he releases a groan, sinking further into her, slowing his movements and beginning to punctuate his thrusts. he leans down and kisses her neck. 

“i said no,” he growls, “be fuckin’ good.”

she bites his shoulder. hard enough to sting. 

“ah-f’you keep acting like a brat i’m gonna fuck you like one,” he warns, hands holding her firmly in place. 

she grins, then bites him again, this time on his bicep. and much harder. 

carmen feels himself run out of patience, sitting up and pulling out of her. he shuffles off the bed and stands, and before she can open her mouth to complain, he yanks her up by the arm. his hand presses on her upper back and shoves her into the mattress, grabbing her hips and lifting her to arch to his liking. 

the girl feels slightly humiliated by the vulnerable position, yet finds it does nothing but make the tingling heat of her body intensify. 

she notices her cheek is wet—he had shoved her face first into the spot she made earlier. at this, she lets out an unenthusiastic groan. 

“yeah well, i told you to fuckin’ behave,” he responds, collecting some of her slick and coating it over his cock, stroking a few times. “was tryin’ to go easy on you.” he begins to press the head into her, eliciting a breathy sigh. “but you don’t want me to, huh?” he sinks the rest of the way in. “you’ve been wanting me to give it to you rough, yeah?” 

he buries himself to the hilt, and she gasps, feeling fuller than she ever thought possible. 

“no,” comes her breathy protest into the mattress. he wasn’t wrong. at all. but she had too much pride to admit it, so instead she argues. 

carmy scoffs.

“yeah? that why you’re fuckin’ soaking me? cause you don’t want it?”

he pulls back, dragging along her walls, then thrusts forward. the girl yelps, and takes a deep breath. 

“i’m not,” comes her sharp retort, forearms coming to the bed and pushing herself up. 

carmen drags his fingers up her inner thigh, collecting some of her juices that had trickled down, wordlessly holding them in front of her so she could see. 

her cheeks feel hot. she doesn’t say anything, instead turns her face away from his glistening fingers. he grabs her jaw and pulls her back, pushing his coated fingers into her mouth. the girl makes a noise of disagreement, but doesn’t move away. she swirls her tongue around him, sucking his fingers clean. 

he was right, she does taste sweet. 

carmy drags his fingers out of her mouth slowly, catching her lip on the way down, and wraps around her neck, pressing gently. only enough to remind her who was in charge. 

she willingly submits to the pleasure, arching back against him, growing impatient with his lack of movement. 

she begins to ease herself forward, then rock back onto him selfishly, working to help alleviate some of the pressure that had built within her. 

he lets her, for a moment, admiring the way she bounces against him, watching as she desperately tried to satiate herself. 

he leans forward to plant a kiss to her cheek, fingers still wrapped around her throat, and begins to drive his hips forward to match her movements. 

“yes,” she cries, hoping to god he wouldn’t stop again.  

he doesn’t, continuing to rhythmically thrust into her, filling her up and stretching her out. her hand flies down to her clit and begins softly rubbing, keeping in time with the movement of his hips. she can’t help the plentiful sounds that spill from her lips—sounds of motivation for the man. 

carmen, on the other hand, clenches his teeth together tightly and anchors himself by gripping her hip with his free hand, leaning over her. 

he’s wanted to cum since the second he slipped into her, actively working to refrain and make it last as long as possible. 

her juices begin to flow uncontrollably, completely covering his cock, sticking to his pubic hair. 

everything was wet, and hot, and felt so fucking good. 

the man wants to stay in this very moment for eternity, he thinks.

a particularly deep thrust makes the girl cry out voraciously, a primal cry that seemed to ignite something in him. 

his hand moves from her hip to her upper arm and he pulls her upright. she leans her head against his shoulder, and he wraps a strong arm around her torso, hand coming to hold her neck once again. 

the girl can barely support herself, legs trembling as carmen beings to increase the ferocity of his thrusts. the new angle situates him impossibly deeper—that familiar deep, wet feeling of heat starting to re-emerge within her stomach. his free hand trails down to her clit to help her climb higher.

carmy’s thrusts begin to cause wet squelching sounds. she completely loses herself in the sensation, mind blank with bliss, feeling tears begin to leak from her eyes. 

he grabs her jaw and plants a rough kiss on her cheek. his lips become wet with her tears. 

“that feel good, baby?” he hums into her skin, bucking up into her relentlessly. 

“so good, carm,” she cries, gripping onto his arm for dear life, “love it. so so good.” 

“fuck” he growls, shifting his hips further up into her, eliciting a yelp from the girl. 

“thank you,” she mindlessly moans, “thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

he grins, grabbing her jaw tighter. another rough kiss on her cheek. 

“where’d that fuckin’ attitude go, huh?” plowing forward into her, biting her neck. 

she just whimpers, body falling limp against him. he effortlessly holds her up right where he wants her and continues drilling his hips forward. 

“carmy, i’m- ah,” her mouth agape, “‘sgonna happen again,” she warns. he maintains his relentless pace, skin slapping against hers. 

“let it go, pretty girl. i got you,” he assures, face scrunching, muscles tightening, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay long enough to pull her through. 

with a primal cry of pleasure, she does exactly what he says and lets go. 

it’s a flood of heat through her body, a release so satiating she thinks she‘ll be addicted for life. her vision goes spotty, ears start ringing, mind becoming numbingly empty for a moment. her fingernails leave marks along carmen’s arm from how hard she grips, using him as her last remaining tether to reality. 

her breathing becomes rapid, body overstimulated with his continual thrusts. it’s almost too much, and then it’s nothing at all, feeling him pull out with a loud groan. feeling warm ropes shoot across her lower back. feeling him gently lower her down onto the wet bed. feeling her legs start to shake as the orgasm begins to subside. 

a few moments go by. she feels a cold wet rag clean off her back. she feels his hand rub over her ass, feeling it be squeezed. she doesn’t move. she can’t move. 

“hey.” 

his voice is so distant, sounding like he’s talking through a tin can. she feels him push her onto her side. she feels him smooth her hair out of her face.

she can’t seem to open her eyes. 

she can’t even seem to breathe without panting.

her entire body feels tingly. 

“hey,” comes again, this time a little closer, “y’okay?” 

she can’t respond. It’s like she forgot how to vocalize. 

carmen gently pats the side of her face. she doesn’t respond, so he does it a little harder. her eyes blink open at the soft smacks. 

her eyes meet his. they’re so blue, hazed with a slight expression of worry. 

“hi,” she whispers once she’s found her words. he’s so handsome, she thinks. his cheeks are flushed. his lips are swollen. 

“hi,” he softly smiles, “y’okay? was that too much?” 

she shakes her head no, a blissed out grin forming on her face. 

“mm. i liked it. a lot,” she tells him earnestly. 

“yeah? earlier you were saying you loved it,” he teases, smoothing her hair back behind her ear. she opens her mouth to respond but shuts it, rolling her eyes. 

there was that attitude again, carmen thinks to himself. 

“your bed is wet,” she complains, rolling onto her back and pushing herself up onto her forearms. 

“who’s fault is that?” he asks, an eyebrow lifting. 

she holds onto his bicep and pulls herself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. he sits next to her. 

“yours,” she responds. 

he scoffs. 

“it is,” she huffs, head resting on his shoulder, “i’ve never done that before. it felt…crazy.” 

the comment makes him feel big headed, a surge of pride and possessiveness that he’s the only one who’s ever made her feel that way. he doesn’t say it, though. just wraps his arm around the girl and kisses her head. 

a quiet settles between them. the yellow of the streetlights through the window gives the room a dreamlike glow. the time on the clock shows that it’s an ungodly hour to be awake. carmen thinks of taking a personal day. 

“wanna take a shower?” she asks softly, leaning up to kiss his neck, hand on his thigh. 

“that-” he exhales as she nips his neck, “sounds really nice,” his own hand coming to cover hers. his were so big comparatively. another moment of quiet. 

“i don’t think i can stand,” she admits, breaking the silence. he lets out a laugh. 

-

the silky sheets wrap around entangled limbs, draping the two lovers in a soft sleepy haze. 

the girl had to offer her own bed up for sleeping arrangements, given that carmen’s bed was completely soaked. 

their legs intertwine, feet rub together, skin smooths against skin as they lay facing each other. 

the cracked window allows an early november chill to sweep through the room. the girl gives a small shiver, and carmy pulls the blanket up over her bare shoulder, wrapping his arm around her back. 

they remain in a comfortable silence, both nearly delirious in the early hour, but too giddy to fall asleep. 

she studies his face in the close proximity, eyes smoothing over the small scar on his cheek, the light freckles that scatter his skin, the alluring curve of his nose. 

it feels almost as intimate as their shared shower, where they had tenderly washed each other’s hair and studied each other’s nudity in the light. he had called her beautiful. she returned the compliment. he held her up in the shower on account of her shaky legs, kissing her lovingly under the stream of the hot water, fingers gripping onto her as if he was scared she’d vanish into thin air. 

all that she was scared of happening had happened. she found herself completely infatuated with the man, the mere thought of him making her stomach flutter.

she tries to push it out of her mind, as she lay studying his face, that she only had a little over a month before she would leave chicago. as much as she tried to push it away, though, it came back. 

she doesn’t realize she’s furrowing her brows until carmen reaches up to touch her forehead, smoothing his thumb over the scrunch. 

she meets his eyes, and immediately feels a soothing sensation. 

his hand slides down the side of her face and cups it, thumb rubbing over her lip. 

“whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asks softly. 

she stays quiet for a moment, not sure how to express herself, chewing on her lip trying to piece together her words. he gently pulls it from between her teeth, his eyes fixed on her face, studying every emotion. 

she takes a deep breath. 

“i really like you, carmy,” her admission comes as a whisper. 

a tear escapes down her cheek, and she feels stupid because of it. 

“hey,” he soothes, thumb swiping away the stray tear, “c’mere.”

he pulls her into an embrace, arms engulfing her smaller frame. he rubs her back, and presses a kiss to the top of her head. 

“this about california?” the man asks after a moment. 

she doesn’t answer, just nuzzles her face into his neck. 

“we still have some time, yeah?” he consoles, “and it won’t be forever. you can come back and visit.” 

he stays positive, partially to reassure himself as well. 

“okay,” she murmurs into his neck, pressing herself closer to him. 

she thinks it might’ve been a mistake to have started something she can’t finish. 

it might’ve been a mistake to even entertain the idea at all. 

but even still, he’s so warm, smells so nice, feels so incredibly safe. 

he runs his fingers through her hair and kisses her temple, holding her tightly. 

it feels so good she thinks it can’t be a mistake. 

right?

next part

[rosenclaws]

Stronger || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: after failing your last mission you start to over train yourself in secret but Logan notices the bruises and cuts and wont leave you alone about it.

warnings: angst to fluff, patching up fic, the reader is very hard on themselves, injury, blood, insecurity, sweet logan, reader pushes themself too much.

a/n: I had this idea at like 1:30am last night and I wrote it when i woke up oops. I just love fluffy patching up logan fics what can I say.

There it is again. Logan's nose twitches as you walk by. You smell like dirt and sweat but most of all blood. He locks eyes with you as you walk past the kitchen door.

Theres a limp in your step. It's subtle but there. You're wearing long pants and long sleeves despite it being hot outside and you're hiding your hands in your pockets. There's bags under your eyes and the smiles you give people aren't real.

Logan narrows his eyes at you and you look at the ground. Hurrying away from his pointed gaze. He wants to go after you but he hears your door slam and lock.

No one else has picked up on this except for him. He brings it up in passing but he's brushed off every time. Something is up with you and he's going to figure out what.

You sigh as you lean against your door. Your body aches like crazy and all you want to do is collapse onto the bed and sleep. But you force yourself to the bathroom. You need to scrub off all the evidence of everything from the night before. The blood and grime washed off but the bruises stayed.

"Damn." You mumbled as you took in the injuries from this time.

The person displayed in the mirror looked like a stranger. Your eyes were sunken, bruises on your body, you looked tired and felt worse. But you had to keep going. You needed to be strong, to prove yourself and this was the only way.

At least that's what you think. You crawl into bed and pass out the moment your head hits the pillows. Unfortunately the nightmares start then too.

You're back on your last mission. The whole reason you've been pushing yourself so hard. You were weak, lost, a burden to the team. You weren't like everyone else at the mansion. You didn't come here as a kid.

In fact you were well into your adult life when Professor Xavier found you. You had no training, no experience. You got stuck into classes with kids who had already mastered their powers. You felt silly, a fool to think you could be apart of this world. You didn't belong.

So when you got the chance to go on a mission you were excited. It means they thought you were ready, that you had something in you that could help.

The mission went terribly. You were overwhelmed and could barely keep up. Tackled to the ground you cried out in pain. A sharp blade against your neck caused you to freeze. You tried to conjure your energy blasts but a foot on your wrist stopped you. It was digging into you, crushing you. You closed your eyes as you braced yourself for what was to come.

It never does.

The pressure is released all at once as Logan tackled the man who was on you. Digging his claws into him until he's limp on the ground. He runs to you, checking you injuries. You couldn't speak. You couldn't warn Logan that someone else was coming. Then it all goes black. You're too late.

You sit up, Logan's name on the tip of your tongue as you wake up. Fuck. You take in your surroundings and try to calm down. Slowly sinking back into your bed. Reminding yourself that everything fine.

That the last mission didn't really end that way. Logan is okay, you're okay. But what if things had played out different.

If you could have held your own then Logan wouldn't have had to come to your rescue. He carried you back to the jet and while everyone was nice, you knew that you disappointed them.

You haven't been asked to go on a mission since. It hurt, you wanted to go. To be apart of the team. So you took it upon yourself to train. Your powers were trained in lessons with the professor but he never lets you go past a certain limit. So instead you decided to sneak out at night to the nearby forest and train there.

Honing not only your powers but your hand to hand combat as well. Trees were your only partners but it worked. They were strong and sturdy. Every night you'd sneak out. Practice with your powers which drained you and then practiced everything else after. It left you bloody and bruised but in your mind it was worth it.

Glancing at the clock you see that you've slept through most of the day. The sun had already set. Quietly you get dressed and sneak down the hallways. Most everyone was already in bed and if they weren't they were socializing in the living room. All you had to do was sneak by and you were home free for the night.

Laughter is the perfect distraction as you sneak past the doorway. Opening the door slowly and sneaking outside, running to the safety of the woods. What you don't notice is someone following you.

Logan caught your scent the second you stepped out of your room. Whether he wants to admit it or not he's always searching for you. He smelled your shampoo wafting past the door and eyed you outside. You were quick but he could still see you. Enough of this. Whatever the hell you were doing was killing you. Slowly but surely it was ruining you physically and mentally. He slipped away from the rest of the people in the living room and followed you.

As he got deeper in the woods he became worried, just what could you be doing out here? His ears perk up as he hears you. Peaking through the trees he finds you in a small clearing. You were clearly exhausted but you kept pushing. Creating energy from your finger tips and blasting them at a tall redwood.

Logan smells the blood that trickled from your nose. You were pushing yourself too hard. He's about to reveal himself when the loud creaking of a branch stops him.

You were too wrapped up in conjuring another blast that you don't notice a large tree branch cracking from the force of your powers. Logan springs in to action.

"Watch out!" He growls as he launches himself at you. Grabbing your body and wrapping himself around you the best he can. The branch falls right onto his back. It snaps in two as it falls to either side of you.

"Logan?! What are you doing here?" You ask as you stare at the fallen branch. Kicking yourself for not noticing it fast enough forcing Logan to put himself in danger for you again.

"What am I doing here? What the fuck are you doing out here?" He yells as he lets you go. Taking in just how bad you looked.

"What the hell is wrong with you? What if I wasn't here? What if that branch fell and hit you and no one would know that you were bleeding out in the fucking woods!" Logan snarls. His fear and worry being masked by anger. How could you be so reckless? So stupid?

"I didn't ask you to fucking follow me!" You bite back. Shame creeping up as he scolds you. Logan scoffs and grabs your face firmly.

"Do you even see yourself right now?" He grabs your wrist and holds it up. Staring at your bloody knuckles. It fucking hurts. It hurts for him to see you like this and it hurts him that you were doing this to yourself.

“You're tearing yourself apart, why?" The anger starts to fade, his real feelings breaking through.

"Because I'm weak." You admit, your voice cracking as the adrenaline starts to drain. Instead being replaced but complete and utter exhaustion.

"What?" Logan asks in disbelief.

"I failed the last mission, I could have gotten you hurt, I was a liability. If I got stronger, If I was better."

"Stop. Just stop. You really think all that?" Logan has let go of you by now, his eyes are looking at all your bruises. All the damage you've done to yourself.

"You don't?" You ask, afraid of his answer.

He doesn't say a word. Instead he takes your holds your hand, you try to ignore the butterflies growing in your stomach as he leads you back to the mansion. Taking you up to his room where he pulls out a first aid kit.

He doesn't need one but every room has one, of course you had already used up all of yours. Silently he patches you up, wrapping your knuckles in bandages and wiping up the blood from your nose.

"If you wanted train you could have come to one of us, to me." He should have noticed sooner, said something. Stopped you from doing this to yourself.

"I thought I had to do it on my own."

"You don't. It took me a while to figure it out too but you don't." He would be a hypocrite to scold you for going off alone but he doesn't really care.

"I'm sorry." You mumble. Logan cups your face and to your shock kisses your forehead gently.

"Don't ever do this again do you hear me." Logan can help you, he can protect you.

"I won't." You promise him. He smiles and picks you up.

"Logan!" You yelp as he drops you into his bed.

It smells just like him and you can't deny the instant comfort that comes over you as you snuggle into his sheets.

"You're going to rest for the next week. Anything you need you just call alright?"

"But what-" He stares at you and you stop talking, he wasn't fucking around about this.

"When you're healed and rested. Then we can train together." He doesn't leave room for argument, not that you wanted to argue with him anyways but still.

"Thank you Logan...You didn't have to do this."

He could have turned his head, pretended he never saw anything. Its what you expected him to do if you were being honest. But he didn't. He saw you struggling, pushing yourself and he couldn't let you hurt yourself any longer. He cared about you, a lot.

"I know." He says simply.

"Will you stay, while I sleep. I've been getting these nightmares and well..." Logan nods his head.

He shuts off the lights and crawls into bed with you. Kind of, more like he's half hanging off the edge of the bed. But you're comfortable and that's good enough for him.

It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep. The comforting aura of Logan was enough. He hums as you curl closer to him. Logan chasing away any nightmares that threaten to hurt you and for the first time in a while your dreams are quiet.

A smile on your face as peace finally overcomes your dreams.

[pboogerswbb]

TOO LOST IN YOU - part VI

Paige Bueckers x bartender!oc

Warnings: toxic!p, language, SMUT!

Wordcount: 7.3k (oops)

A/N: PALERIE IS BACK - i know you guys have been waiting to find out what happens after part 5, well guess what - you're gonna have to wait till part 7 :) i wanted to have you on the edge of your seats a lil longer, so this part will be a flashback to how paige and valerie met and how all that unfolded! don't hate me too much lmao. anyway again, you guys have shown so much love and appreciation and i'm so incredibly grateful!! ily all please enjoy and send me live reactions and feedback!!! i'm begging (@paigesbabygirl your wait is over)

-

September 2024

“Valerie, can you bring more tall glasses we’re about to run out!”

“Uh ok,” I yell over the crowd, wiping the sweat and the hairs sticking to my forehead with the back of my hand as I hurry to the back. Dread takes over me when the rack is empty, not a single glass in sight. We never should’ve hired that freshman Johnny to clean tables. I groan running back to the front, the bar lining up with rows of customers for what felt like hours now. It felt like all of Storrs had made their way to Ted’s tonight.

I was warned about the last weekend before classes start, that all the students pack into Ted’s and get shitfaced. Somehow it was still just me, Natalie and Thomas working - and this new guy called Johnny who I had a feeling was about to be fired. How were we out of glasses?

“No glasses, use pints!” I shout, the chatter of the students overwhelmingly loud.

“What?” Natalie yells and I just point to the pints towering next to her, knowing it was no use to talk in all this noise.

Natalie looks at me, her wide eyes showing slight panic, her hands mixing drinks expertly. She evidently had some years on me when it came to bartending. “Where the fuck is Johnny?”

“Not doing his job I guess,” I groan, carrying a rack of pints over to the bar. “I’ll go clean tables then, get us some more glasses.”

The red haired girl waves me off as I rush into the crowd, squeezing through and grabbing every empty glass in sight, adding them one by one to the tower I was balancing against my side, bringing them to the back to be washed. Once I return into the crowd of swarming students, I’m crushed between two groups of guys, elbowing their sides to make my way through. I could feel the sweat dripping down my back, the air felt heavy and humid, early September still as hot as July had been.

“Ah fuck!”

Suddenly I feel a splash of something seep into my tank top, the white thin fabric turning red and seethrough. 

“What the fuck!” I yell looking down, the shirt sticking to my skin as more people pushed into my back, nearly making me stumble. 

“Shit bro I’m so sorry,” A hoarse voice mumbles and I lift my eyes upwards to the tall blonde girl standing in front of me, a sheepish smile on her face as she scratches the back of her neck. “Someone pushed me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snap, too overwhelmed and overworked to deal with this right now. Someone behind me trips, forcing me to stumble forward, the girl catching me and steadying me. “Whoa there,” she says.

“You good?” The blonde asks and I roll my eyes, what a stupid question to ask. 

“You just spilled a drink on me, what do you think?”

“I’m so sorry, deadass. Lemme buy you a drink please.”

“I work here, I’m working.”

“Oh, shit.”

I look down at my top, completely ruined and unwearable - if not for the red stain then for the fact that the fabric had turned completely transparent, my lavender bra completely visible.

The blonde girl in front of me blushes, eyeing the way my nipples poked through the drenched top now. Noticing me watching her, she quickly looks up to the low ceiling of the bar, pretending she wasn’t ogling over my chest.

“You can totally see through it right?” I ask frustrated and the blonde only nods, clearly trying not to grin which only annoys me more.

“I’m so sorry, hold up.”

She seems apologetic as she covers my front from the view of other people, big hands confidently guiding me into the much quieter hallway where only a few people were lining up for the bathrooms. It’s only then I look up and really study the face of the tall girl in front of me, quickly realising who it was that spilled her Shirley all over my white top.

Paige Bueckers is only hotter in person, her jaw that much more refined, long neck and broad shoulders and the way she towered over you making her seem bigger than she was. Her blue eyes are flickering everywhere but my chest as she drags me into the desolate end of the hallway. I’m sure I would’ve felt starstruck if the situation had been different, but the stress from work and the fabric smelling like grenadine and sticking to my body was only irritating me further, the blonde in front of me to blame.

Suddenly Paige starts pulling the back of her white hoodie to undress, the white t-shirt underneath rising enough to reveal the tan skin on her abdomen, her shorts low waisted enough to show the tiniest bit of a tan line. 

“What are you doing?” I ask confused as Paige pulls the hoodie over her head, fixing the shirt underneath it, silver chains dangling from her neck.

She hands the white hoodie at me, her blue eyes studying me. “What’s it look like, take it.”

I glance at the hoodie scrunched in her hands, being offered to me. The back of the hoodie is decorated with a large number 5, Paige’s last name written in big bold letters above it. 

Publicly Paige might have been loved, considered kind and grounded, but on campus people knew more. Sure, the girl was adored. But it hadn’t taken longer than staying at Storrs for a few days for the rumours to reach me, about her endless roster of girls who she never let sleep over, who she seduced into bed and then never called or texted. It had become a joke amongst the students that everyone knew - when you saw a girl wearing a shirt with Paige’s name on it, she was either fucked by her or wanted others to think so.

I shake my head at the hoodie, not wanting to be marked as one of them. I didn’t wanna be part of some sick fantasy Paige had about claiming girls.

“Nah I ain’t wearing that,” I chuckle bitterly, pushing the hoodie back, a jolt going through my body when my fingertips brush hers.

Confused, Paige’s brows furrow as she grabs the hoodie back. “Please, I really don’t mind. I feel really bad, just take it. You don’t even have to give it back.”

I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not playing into some weird little fantasy and wearing a hoodie with your name and number on it.” Paige is quickly taken aback, brows only furrowing further.

“You.. I… Huh?!” She asks bewildered. 

“Please, everyone knows what those hoodies and shirts mean.”

“I got no clue what you’re talking about,” Paige chuckles, finding amusement in my defiance. “But I know you ain’t gonna work in that top for the rest of the night.”

She’s right. Why do I hate that she’s right? Thankfully the solution is right under my nose.

“I’ll take the t-shirt,” I say, my tone assertive. With a snort Paige’s brows rise as high as they can - I can’t tell whether she’s amused or shocked at my audacity. Perhaps a little bit of both.

With a chuckle she holds the hoodie over her forearm, piercing blue eyes landing on me. “Yo I don’t remember offering it.” There’s a spark in her eye, something that makes me bolder and certain that she’s enjoying this. So I play along.

“You don’t have to, I know you’ll give it to me.”

We stare at each other, both of us waiting for each other to fold. Finally Paige opens the bathroom door next to her, nodding her head for me to get in. She follows behind me, closing the door and locking us into the tight space. My back presses against the wall as she turns to me - I'll never forget the look she had on her face, the way her eyelids grow heavy and head tilts the tiniest bit upwards, making her neck that much longer. It’s in that moment, in the bright, fluorescent lights of the bathroom that I realise how blue her eyes are, how intense her gaze was. 

An involuntary blush grows on my cheeks, for a moment forgetting why we were here in the first place. Paige had seemed to forget as well, her tongue darting over her lips to wet them, the tight and enclosed space forcing us both to notice a tension. I clear my throat, my eyes snapping to the ground.

“Sooo the shirt?”

“Oh right,” Paige murmurs, finally breaking the intense stare.

I watch the way her hand grabs the back of her shirt, pulling it over her head. I feel something stir in my stomach when I notice the rings decorating her long fingers, the muscles in her shoulders flexing as her arms lifted. She’s wearing a grey sports bra underneath, and I’m surprised by how broad she looks shirtless like this, how refined but somehow soft her stomach looked. 

When I realise that I’m staring it’s already too late, Paige is grinning down at me and momentarily it makes my legs feel weak. Okay, I see what the fuss is about now.

“You good?” Paige smirks handing me her shirt and my eyes quickly flicker to the ceiling, back turning to her as I start pulling the damp top over my head. I can feel the blue eyes drilling into my skin, making me feel hot all over. Quickly I put on the white tee over my head, a whiff of deodorant and cologne making my head spin as I fix the much too large shirt. I tuck part of it into my bra, turning around and seeing the blonde pulling her hoodie back on, feeling a pang of disappointment when she hides the broad shoulders and the abs I had taken a liking to.

“Oh I’m Paige by the way,” she murmurs, pulling her head through the hoodie, hands sleeking her long hair back. 

I snort, raising my brows. “Very humble of you to assume I don’t know who you are.”

Sheepishly the blonde scratches the back of her head, shrugging. “Nah, I knew,” she smiles. “I just wanted to find out your name ma.”

The nickname brings an immediate heat to my core but I do my best to keep my cool. I doubt the blonde needed any ego boosts from me.

Trying to remain chill, I casually chuckle. “I’m Valerie.”

“Valerie,” Paige repeats. I never loved my name but hearing her say it was making me seriously reconsider. “I’ve seen you around campus, you know.”

“Oh?”

-

Valerie. The name feels smooth slipping from my lips, I wanted to say it again and again. It hadn’t been my intention to spill my Shirley all over her, but I’d be lying if I wasn’t happy about the situation it had got me in.

I must admit I had seen the brunette before, in fact I remember the very first time I saw her. It was her voice that drew me in, impossible to miss as I was walking back to the dorms with KK, Ice and Azzi. 

“HOW did you not know you need to add water to boil pasta?? What did you think boiling is?!”

There was something about the lilt in her voice, the way it echoed around campus, and the pure astonishment in her voice that got me to laugh before I had ever even met, yet alone seen her. I couldn’t help but turn my head, only to find that the owner of that beautiful voice was fittingly the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

It was her hair that caught my eye first, it wasn’t just brown but the tones of gold made it sparkle in the late August sun, her golden jewellery only adding to the twinkle. Her eyes were big, getting even wider the more shocked her voice got on the phone. The gloss on her lips and the way her shirt showed just a little bit of cleavage caused very inappropriate thoughts one should not be having about a person they didn’t know at all.

Her legs were shorter yet somehow she took such hurried steps she passed me and the girls without a single look in my direction despite my obvious ogling. It was that moment I knew I had to have her.

So it must have been God’s plan all along for me to spill that Shirley all over her shirt. Because now I had her in a bathroom, pulling her shirt off, unable to look away from her lacy lavender bralette, trying to get the way her nipples peeked through her soaked top out of my head. To my pleasant surprise, I catch her dark eyes leering at me before I pull the hoodie back on. 

“You could’ve just come talk to me, there was no need to spill that drink on me,” Valerie chuckles, the annoyance in her tone making a heat pool between my legs. I should probably bring that up with a therapist.

Lifting my hands up in defiance I scoff. “Ma I swear it was an accident.”

“Sure.”

As she looks up at me I suddenly felt a desperate need for her approval, for her praise. Usually girls were quick to fold once I turned the rizz on. Valerie didn’t seem even a little bit affected - somehow it irked me and turned me on more simultaneously. For a moment I consider just pulling out the old trusty rizz hands but before I can process Valerie’s hand is on the door handle, stepping past me into the hallway, a whiff of coconut making my heart beat faster. I was usually smoother than this.

“Well thanks for the shirt Paige Bueckers,” Valerie smiles and walks out before I can say a word, leaving me speechless in the bathroom.

-

“Did you see the way he looked at me tho? Geno’s gon’ bench me for the whole season forreal.”

KK’s voice is faint in my ears as we sit at our usual table, leaning back on my chair to get a better view of her. Valerie’s pouring drinks to a couple guys, her nose scrunching a little as she giggles. Even in the dingy bar everything about her lit the place up.

I had come here three nights in a row now, sipping my Shirleys and trying to find courage to approach her with more than “A dirty Shirley thanks.” Normally approaching a girl and getting them naked into my bed was easy, nearly boring at this point - the five girls blowing up my phone on the daily proof of that. But something about Valerie was different, challenging. While it was intriguing it was also scary.

“Earth to P boogers?” KK pokes my side, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turn my head to her, raising my brows expectantly.

With a roll of her eyes, KK nods towards the bar where Valerie was alone now, humming to herself and playing with the ends of her hair. “Go talk to her.”

“Nah.”

“Bro.”

“What would I even say?”

“Rizz her up girl! Isn’t that your whole thing?”

I throw my head back and groan dramatically, throwing my arm over my eyes. She’s just a girl, if she didn’t want me the campus was full of other girls dying to fuck me. Why was I tripping over a girl like this - mind you, a girl I barely knew.

In truth I hadn’t stopped replaying every moment of that night I spilled my drink on her over and over. Thinking about the way Valerie’s top clung to her skin, the way her tits looked in that bra had made me drag my hand down my stomach, between my legs. But it was the memory of the way she stared me down that had brought me over the edge.

“Bro, you can’t come back tomorrow without talking to her, that shit is called stalking.”

KK was right. A fourth night in a row of just ogling over her would be nothing short of creepy. Finishing my drink, I finally get up and walk to the bar, butterflies growing with each step I take. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

“Hey,” Valerie says, her eyes twinkling as she looks at me and I immediately wanna go back to the table and just forget about all of this. How was I supposed to form comprehensible sentences when she looked at me like that? When her hair was pulled up messily in a clip, loose curls framing her face, white t-shirt hugging her curves. 

Before I have the chance to respond the brunette is already opening her mouth, a tiny grin on her face. “This is your third night in a row here.”

She’s noticed - no, she’s kept count. My confidence soars quickly as I look at the ground, my mouth twisting into a smile. “Oh you been counting huh?”

“Nah was just wondering if the student athlete was turning into an alcoholic,” Valerie rolls her eyes, leaning forward on her elbows against the bar, her breasts perking menacingly between her arms. I only let myself look for a second before using all my constraint to move my gaze elsewhere.

“Oh you worry about me?” My tongue slides over my lower lip, watching as she rolls her eyes once more. God I could get used to that sight. Her eyes rolling back because of me in a multitude of ways.

“Unfortunately it’s part of my job description.”

“To take care of me?”

Another eyeroll. “To not serve alcoholics.”

I chuckle softly, mirroring the brunette by leaning forward against my elbows. The faint scent of coconut makes its way into my nostrils again. “Damn, that’s a shame. They gon’ miss out on those Shirleys you make.”

Even in the dim lighting of the bar I can recognise the hint of a blush that rises to Valerie’s cheeks, her eyelids fluttering as she quickly looks away from me. The moment of silence is causing a stir in my abdomen, electricity palpable just for a moment. I got her, she’d be in my bed in no time. Maybe by tonight.

“Your shirt’s still in my dorm,” she says nonchalantly, breaking the tension of the moment by pushing herself off the bar and beginning to clear the glasses on the bar. I watch amused.

“You wanna keep it?” I grin, letting my eyes land on the curve of her ass as she bends over to pick up a beer cap off the floor. Goddamn, I better have that in my bed tonight. Rubbing my jaw I swiftly bring my eyes to look at the walls of the bar as the girl turns around, even more curls falling out of her clip now.

Valerie scoffs loudly like it’s the most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard. “No.”

I kiss my teeth and raise my brows. “I could also come pick it up,” I grin, my blue eyes staring into the girl. “You know, after your shift ma?”

The look on Valerie’s face is priceless, a mixture of surprise and something I can’t quite recognise. Yeah I got her, she’d be between my legs in no time - those big brown eyes staring back at me as I pull on her hair, her perfect ass in the air. 

To my bemusement, instead of blushing or getting flustered Valerie’s hand flies to her mouth as she bursts into a bright laugh, her eyes squeezing shut as she does. The grin on my face quickly wipes off as I shift on my feet, my arms crossing over my chest. Seems like I might have to wait a little longer than I’d like to for this one.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Valerie shakes her head. “If it’s one thing you got Bueckers, it's audacity.”

Her indifference to my flirting irks me. At this point I usually gave up, looked for another girl - not that I had to nearly ever. I don’t think I’d worked this hard for a girl since coming to Uconn. But there was something about the brunette in front of me, something I couldn’t quite place, that made it impossible just to give up. Maybe it was time to move on to a more challenging territory. The pussy would be worth it, I knew it.

“You want a drink?” Valerie asks, finally recovered from her laughing fit. Without even thinking I shrug.

“Shirley.”

“Which way?”

A small smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth as I wiggle my brows. “Dirty.”

With another eyeroll the brunette gets to work. Part of me wanted to keep saying stupid things just so she’d roll her eyes at me one more time.

I watch her work for a moment, noticing the golden bracelet with a small charm dangling on it decorating her wrist as I thought of any other way to get her naked as soon as possible.

“You ever been to a game?” I ask, convincing myself that seeing me on the court would have the effect it usually had on girls.

“No, this is my first year here so,” she mumbles absentmindedly, mixing the bright red drink for me.

“You should come watch me sometime.”

A smile. Valerie’s mouth turns into a smile. I’ll take that as a win. Feeling the tiniest bit proud I smile too.

“Yeah? You any good?” The brunette asks seriously, but there’s a hint of something in her voice that tells me she’s teasing me. Just that is enough to get me going. I rarely found the chase to be this fun, but with her? I was fucked.

I shrug and bring my arm up, flexing the bicep that had grown exponentially over the summer. “Best player in the country, they say,” I grin.

Her eyes land on my flexed arm, softening for a moment before she returns to stirring the drink. “Now who’s they?”

“Just come see for yourself ma.”

As she places the drink on the bar I reach for my wallet, pulling out 30 bucks and leaving it on the counter.

“Hold on Bueckers, your change,” Valerie stops me as I’m about to head back but I shake my head at her, walking backwards.

“Keep it. Come see me play sometime.”

-

“Pick up… pick up… pick up…” I mumble under my breath, phone against my ear as the steady slow beeps keep taunting me, reminding me no one had answered to any of the tens of calls I had made. Groaning, I put the phone on the table, looking through the back door of Ted’s, over the liquor shipment sitting in the bright evening sun. It wasn’t meant to come till tomorrow, when the boys could carry all of it inside. Now it was just me, my pathetically small muscles and boxes full of liquor bottles and beers.

“Fuck,” I groan when the phone finally rings. Picking it up urgently, Natalie’s voice comes through.

“Riri you called me like five times, are you good?”

“The shipment came early,” I panic into the speaker.

“What?!”

“Mhm.”

“Have you tried-”

“Tried calling literally everyone. No one’s picking up,” sighing I push my hair back from my face, trying not to panic. “What do I do?”

“I’m out of town too,” Natalie murmurs as I’m leaning against the doorframe, digging my brain for any solution. A moment of silence falls between me and Natalie when I finally got it. Saying bye to the girl on the line I walk to the front - the bar is empty in the early Wednesday evening. But like clockwork at 9 pm the tall blonde opens the door and comes in for the 6th night in a row - this time alone.

Of course she looks great, wearing basketball shorts and a team USA hoodie she had grown too big for, evidently a little too small on her arms and shoulders, her hair in a ponytail. Her mouth twists into a smile as she sees me, long legs quickly reaching the bar.

“Well he-”

“Paige, I need your help.”

-

Paige stares at the shipment through the door frame as I shift on my feet, hating how I had to ask for help, especially from her. I, like everyone else, found Paige incredibly attractive, exceptionally charming. But the ego on her irked me. The way she looked at me like she could read my mind, the things she said to make me blush and that grin like she knew that it was just a matter of time before I’d join the long list of girls she took to bed and left high and dry. I refused to be one of those girls - but it was hard to ignore the flutters in my stomach that arrived routinely at 9 pm when the blonde made her way through the door and to the bar each night.

“How’d they leave a lil thing like you to deal with this?” Paige chuckles, elbowing me gently.

I rub my hand over my face, smiling too. “It came a day too early.”

Paige nods for a moment and shrugs. “Well let’s get to work ma.” 

With that she pulls the hoodie off, left in black basketball shorts and a black matching sports bra. I let myself look just for a second. Eyes roaming over her broad shoulders, the muscles in her stomach, the silver chain with a cross on it. It didn’t hurt to look now and then - as long as I didn’t ogle.

One by one Paige and I carry heavy boxes full of bottles inside Ted’s, though I’m slightly distracted by the way the blonde’s back muscles flex when she picks a box up, the way her jaw flexes when it’s a little too heavy for her. A bead of sweat trickles from her neck downwards along her spine as my gaze follows it, a heat pooling between my legs as I watch her.

Out of breath and slightly sweaty, I push my hair back trying to catch my breath. Paige takes note of this, blonde hairs sticking to her forehead as she walks over to me. This September heat was no joke.

Her blue eyes roam my face as both her hands grab a hold of my hips. A jolt of electricity runs through my body, her touch igniting a fire I hadn’t felt in a while. Our gazes meet, Paige licking her lips as her hand pushes my thick brown hair off my face. I find my heart beating so hard I swear it’s trying to make its way out of my chest. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me.

“Why won’t you go get us something to drink?” Paige murmurs, her voice deep and gravelly in a way I had never heard before. 

My cheeks slightly pink I nod towards the boxes, my voice quiet as I speak. “But what about…?”

“I got it ma,” she assures me, never breaking eye contact. It’s almost dizzying, the tension between us. Reminding myself of what I knew about Paige’s roster, I finally look away, slightly disappointed when her hands drop off my waist.

Walking to the front I find the bar still empty of customers. I grab a bottle of water, chugging it in an attempt to bring myself to my senses. Don’t be stupid Valerie, everyone knows how this could end up if I make the wrong choices here.

Filling two glasses to the brink with ice and coke, I return to the back, eyes landing on Paige and her arms that flex as she lifts up another box, making my mouth go dry. I quickly sip the coke, ignoring the way my legs had been growing weaker the more sweaty Paige got. As the last box hits the floor and all the work is done, Paige closes the door finally locking the scorching heat out and grabs the glass from my hand. We both feel the same goosebumps down our spines as our fingertips graze, forcing our eyes to meet.

“Thanks for the help,” I murmur, my voice weaker than I’d like. Paige’s chest is heaving, whether from the physical strain or the tension of the moment I don’t know. “I owe you.”

Paige shakes her head, blue piercing eyes still locked in mine. “Nah, always down to help a pretty girl out.”

I hate that I blush, but I can’t help it. I hand the blonde the glass of coke and watch the way her throat bobs as she drinks, my lips itching to kiss there. I was falling for her tricks quicker than I’d like.

“I uh, how about you don’t have to pay for your Shirleys?” I offer, voice slightly shaky,

Paige grins and places her glass on a side table, leaning against the closed backdoor. “I don’t need anything free, trust,” she grins, heavy lidded eyes looking down at me. “Besides, how will I tip you then?”

“You tip way too much,” I giggle, brushing my fingertips through my long brown locks.

Paige shrugs. “I tip just enough,” she murmurs hoarsely, licking her lips as her fingers come up to toy with the ends of my hair. I swallow hard, my panties growing damp between my thighs. The blonde breathes out heavily through her nostrils, still watching me. “Just come see a game and we’re even.”

My eyelids flutter shut when Paige’s hand carefully moves from my hair to the side of my jaw and I can’t help but nod. 

“Okay,” I murmur breathlessly, head spinning with need.

Licking her lips, Paige’s eyes land on mine. “Valerie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“O-okay.”

With all my restraint, all my plans to stay strong forgotten, I do the exact opposite of what I planned. Paige leans down and her lips crash into mine, an involuntary moan leaving my mouth. My stomach flutters as I lean into her, my hands wrapping around her neck as I get on my tiptoes to reach her better. The blonde’s hands land on my waist, pulling my body closer to her, breathing heavily through her nose. 

It’s dizzying, the way she kisses me, the way her touch feels against my skin leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I feel completely overwhelmed yet dying for more, all the patience leaving my body at once. Like reading my mind, Paige’s hands fall from my waist to my ass, gripping harshly as she groans against my lips. My core is already throbbing, the sounds coming out of the girl kissing me only making it worse.

There’s a sense of urgency when Paige backs me into the side table, sitting me on it. My legs quickly wrap around her waist as her tongue slides over my bottom lip before biting on it gently. I let out a whimper that makes the blonde grin.

“Been dying to fuck you. Will you let me?” She pants against my mouth and I have no other choice but to nod, my body aching for her.

“Please,” the plea spills from my lips as Paige sloppily kisses along my jaw, all the way to my neck. She gently nibbles, eliciting a hiss from me when she reaches the spot under my ear that was most sensitive. She sucks on it harder, her hands gripping my denim covered thighs firmly.

“How wet are you?” The blonde murmurs, her breath hot in my ear sending tingles down my spin all the way to my cunt that was dripping. 

“So wet Paige,” I whimper, feeling Paige’s hands travel up my thighs and squeeze again, other hand pulling off my white t-shirt, leaving me in a black lace bra and jeans. Paige pulls back and watches my chest, licking her lips.

“Goddamn look at those tits,” she mumbles, more to herself than me before her lips attack my chest, kissing all over, teeth grazing over my bra where my hard nipple is poking through.

The lack of contact between my legs felt excruciating, like some sort of torture. With a whine I roll my hips into Paige, pulling her closer with my legs. Her blue eyes look up at me from my chest menacingly, hand coming to toy with the button of my jeans. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

Panting, I collect myself enough to speak. “Touch me, P.”

“I am touching you,” she teases, kissing along my neck again.

“You know what I mean.”

“Need to hear you say it ma.”

Frustrated, I tilt my head back, the need between my legs becoming overwhelming. Her hand was unzipping my pants now, torturing me.

“Fuck okay just touch my pussy Paige, now please,” I whine eliciting a smirk from Paige as her fingertips slip underneath my lace panties.

“You want my mouth or fingers?”

“Whatever you want just now please!”

“Oh you’re gonna regret saying that.”

With that Paige’s fingers make their way into my folds, gasping with me as she feels how wet I had grown in this past hour watching her work. With a practiced ease her fingertips press against my clit, starting to rub against it in tight circles. 

“Oh fuck,” I whine, my head tilting back. Paige’s other hand quickly covers my mouth and suddenly I’m reminded that any customer coming in could hear us from the front of the bar.

“Gotta keep quiet for me, yeah?” The blonde reminds me and I nod, my eyes meeting hers. My moans are muffled by her hand as she continues the movement of her fingers.

“Fuck, gotta take these off,” she murmurs, her voice low and hoarse as she pulls my jeans down, moaning at the sight of my black, lacy panties. “Gotta see this pussy.”

Her hands pry my legs open, fingertips digging into my thighs as she slides my panties to the side, my glistening cunt proof of how bad I needed her. 

Paige hisses, unable to look away as her fingers swirl in my folds, gathering wetness before returning to my clit, rubbing back and forth so fast I let out a loud gasp. The blonde’s free hand returns to my mouth, eyes warning me. “Quiet, remember?”

“Mhmm,” I mumble against her hand, my eyes fluttering shut as she speeds up even more, my pussy already throbbing, aching to be filled. Paige’s hand on my mouth pushes me backwards, my back hitting the cold wood of the table. 

“Attagirl.” 

-

My fingertips tease her entrance, circling around it menacingly. She looked incredible like this, even better than in all my fantasies, back arching and head thrown back, mouth covered by my big hand making her look even smaller for me. The sounds she was making were driving me insane, causing my own cunt to throb and soak all the way through my boxers.

Her hips buck, clearly not a fan of my teasing as she whines against my hand. God, I could listen to these sounds forever,

“You want my fingers?” I ask, panting just from my own need. She nods, her big brown eyes pleading, nearly making me come merely from the way she was looking at me.

“Two’s good yeah?” I ask, two of my fingers so close to dipping in. It takes all my restraint now to pound them into her when she nods. Instead I slowly push them in, my eyelids fluttering shut at how wet and warm and tight she felt around me, how I could quite literally feel her pussy throbbing around my fingers.

She gasps, her eyes rolling back at the stretch caused by me, and I can’t help myself when I lower myself onto her knee, grinding my cunt against the bones there making me groan breathily.

I start slowly pumping my fingers in and out of Valerie, unable to take my eyes away from her cunt, the way it’s swallowing me up, sucking me back in each time I try and pull away.

Hoping the brunette remembers to stay quiet, I pull my hand back from her mouth, kneading her left breast as I grind my own hips against her knee.

“More,” she whimpers, pretty eyes squeezed shut and back arching.

“Whatever you want baby,” I whisper, my own mind so drunk off her I couldn’t keep up with the composure I’d had in the beginning.

I push a third finger inside her, curling them just right to press against the spongy part inside her making her gush around my fingers. I could barely think straight, doing everything not to come all over her knee before she finished.

The sounds coming from her body are downright sinful, the wet sounds of my fingers curling inside her cunt making my legs shake. I don’t know how I’d ever get enough.

When I start pumping those three fingers in and out of her with more force, Valerie turns into a mess, her thighs trembling, body writhing on the wooden table and eyes squeezed shut, hands trying to grip onto anything they could - the table, her own breasts, even me. In a haze I offer her my free hand, letting her fingers grip my hand as I pump my fingers faster, palm hitting against her clit.

“Paige, I’m close,” she cries out, urging me on as her knee presses against my swollen clit in my boxers, forcing me to bite down on my lip hard to not moan.

“Fuck ma, so fucking sexy,” I groan, watching the way her head tilts back as her cunt tightens around my fingers.

“Yes, don’t stop, don’t stop.”

“I got you Val,” I moan, rocking my hips back and forth on her knee, my juices gushing out of me as I fight my eyes from rolling back.

“Paige, shit, I’m-”

Suddenly she’s covering her own mouth with her hand, her back arching off the table as her cunt clenches around my fingers, but I don’t ease up, I keep up with my movements. The way her face is scrunching up is enough to get my own orgasm to take over me, my movements on her knee turning sloppy and desperate as I come all over her while my fingers pump in and out of her. I’m unable to look away.

A guttural groan leaves my body as Valerie’s muffled moans fill the room, waves of pleasure taking over us simultaneously. There’s something addicting about it, the way we’re both riding out our orgasms at the same time.

“Goddamn,” I sigh, eyes watering as my movements slow down, enjoying the way she’s throbbing around my fingers. Valerie’s eyes flutter open and I swear she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. We’re both panting, the moment over far too quickly to my liking. I could never be done that fast with a girl like this.

Pulling my fingers out, I kneel between the brunette’s legs, pulling the panties off her completely. Face to face with her glistening cunt I decide this is the most perfect pussy I have ever seen in my life - and there have been quite a few.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asks me, her voice still shaky from her climax as she sits back up.

“Need to taste this pussy,” I murmur, my eyes locked onto her cunt, hands spreading it open, making my mouth water.

“Paige I have to get back to work,” she whines, looking down at me as I begin to kiss her inner thighs, pulling her legs over my shoulders. “There could be customers.”

“There aren’t,” I say matter of factly. Truthfully there was no way for me to know, but I needed to have my mouth on this pussy right fucking now.

“How do you- oh fuck.”

My eyes flutter shut at the taste of her, my tongue dipping inside her and slowly circling. I wrap my arms around her thighs, pulling her closer as I drag my tongue upwards through her folds to her red, swollen clit, lapping at it. I can already tell this isn’t gonna be a one time thing. There was no universe in which I didn’t get to have my face buried in this pussy at least once a week.

“Wait wait wait, too much-” she hisses but then I press my tongue flat against her and shake my head, making her gasp and throw her head back. I hum against her pussy, taking turns lapping her up sloppily and shaking my head against her, drinking all of her up.

“Valerie,” I moan into her cunt. I usually didn’t like saying the names of the girls I fucked during sex but something about the softness of the letters, the way the name felt in my mouth made me wanna repeat it over and over like some sort of oath, like a prayer.

“Taste so fucking good,” groaning I suck on her clit, listening to her hiss. “Could eat this pussy forever ma.”

The shake in her legs tells me I’m getting her there again, and her hands finally find my hair, making me moan as they pull on it suddenly. When my tongue precisely licks over the right side of her clit she lets out a guttural moan, my own need pooling in my boxers once more.

“Right there?” I ask, repeating the movement of my tongue, taking it as confirmation when she cries out and her back arches. Copying the movement of my tongue over and over again I keep working her, my face getting covered in her, my own spit dripping down her pussy making an even bigger mess. The thick thighs around my head are beginning to shake, pressing to the sides of my face. I pry them further open, with enough force to bruise her. The brunette doesn’t seem to mind though, her whimpers turning high pitched and desperate.

“Shit shit shit shit,” she repeats quietly, her whole body trembling.

“Gonna cum for me again?”

“Mhmm,” she mewls, nails digging into my scalp.

My fingers spread her pussy further apart, my tongue moving even faster on her clit now as her hips squirm, my lips following her.

“Paige fuck right there,” she gasps and I keep going, the strain in my jaw merely an afterthought, only thing on my mind getting the brunette in front of me to come all over my face.

“You got it baby, c’mon,” I praise against her, copying the movements from before as her grip in my hair tightens.

“I, Fuck-” she gasps and she’s coming again, pulling my face closer as she squirms all over the table, my tongue not easing up as the pleasure takes over her. I swear I feel just as euphoric, watching her like this.

When her whines turn high pitched I ease up my movements, wiping my mouth on her thigh before getting up from the floor. Valerie’s out of breath and her eyes are heavy, mascara smudged underneath her eyes and lips plump from the rough kissing. I don’t know what does it, but something I can’t control makes me lean down and kiss her. I never kiss girls after sex.

Just as I’m about to speak, the bell on the door jingles, returning both of us back to the backroom of Ted’s, the fluorescent lights suddenly harsh and overwhelmingly bright. 

“Shit,” Valerie gasps and starts getting dressed in record time. I watch her, my brain still mush from what we just did. She quickly brushes her hands through her long hair and rushes to the front, leaving me alone.

“Hi, what can I get ya?” I hear her faint voice a little too perky compared to how she normally sounded.

Wiping my lips I stare at the calendar on the wall marking everyone’s shifts, but all I see is Valerie. Blinking stupidly I wipe my mouth, my mouth twisting into a small smile. The heat in my cheeks and the butterflies in my stomach made themselves known - informing me that this girl would have me utterly, completely fucked from now on.

-

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[wcnderlnds]

loser of the year | peter maximoff

SUMMARY: peter thinks you hate him because you avoid him at all costs but he soon figures out why. WORD COUNT: 1243 WARNINGS: none! brief mention of she/her A/N: i couldn't think of a name so spotify did me a solid and played my fave simple plan song and i rolled with it.

Peter couldn’t understand it. Days, heck, weeks had been spent with him trying to figure out what he’d done wrong for you to constantly avoid him but he was coming up blank. Nada. So, if he hadn’t done anything then what was the reason? Why did you always avoid him in the hallways? Why would you always make an excuse to leave whenever he came over when you were talking to Scott or Jean? It absolutely baffled him. Drove him insane actually. Once Peter got something in his little speedster head, he tended to obsess over it. He also didn’t like when he couldn’t figure something out. And, you were the biggest puzzle of all.

It happened again one day when you were sitting in the common room of the mansion. Lazily, you were laying across the couch, legs dangling over the arm while your head rested on the other side. Scott was sitting in the chair next to you, the two of you chatting about Logan’s latest lecture. Peter had been speeding through the hallways causing his trouble like always when he came to halt hearing your voice.

He jumped into the free chair on the other side of the couch, blowing a bubble with the gum in his mouth. “What’re we talking about?”

“I have to go,” you mumbled as you got to your feet. “See you later, Scott.”

Once you left, Peter scoffed, arms crossing over his chest like a spoiled child. “What’s her problem?”

“What do you mean?” Scott asked.

“She hates me, dude. I don’t even know what I’ve done,” Peter threw his hands up in the air, his frustration more than evident.

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Pfft, yeah right. That’s why she always leaves whenever I show up. Whatever, doesn’t matter. It’s fine. Completely fine. I don’t want to talk to her anyway.”

It wasn’t like you wanted to avoid Peter – you really didn’t but you didn’t know what else to do. Usually, you were this confident person who could strike up a conversation with anyone. The easiest thing in the world for you was to make friends but when it came to Peter that all flew out of the window. He made you nervous. One look at him and you were flustered. It was like you lost your tongue, you couldn’t speak a word to him or even look at him unless you wanted to look like a human tomato. It was a problem – a huge problem.

Of course, you’d had crushes before. Many times but this was different. Never had you been so flustered by someone that you couldn’t stand to be around them. This was all new for you. Sure, Peter was attractive. He was probably one of the most attractive guys you’d ever laid your eyes on but what really drew you to him was his personality. He was so fun, carefree. Everything seemed like it was one big adventure with him. Not that you’d really had a full conversation with him but you’d seen how he acted during training. Scott had told you many stories about Peter. It really seemed like everyone loved him. Sure, maybe he came across a little annoying at times but you found that endearing.

Lost in thought, you were walking through the hallway, a book in hand. It wasn’t until you were hit by a brick wall - or what felt like a brick wall at least anyway - and knocked to the floor when you came back to reality. Your eyes instantly bore into Peter’s who had managed to knock the two of you down to the floor, his body laying on top of yours. His hands braced either side of your head so he didn’t completely crush you.

“Oop, my bad.”

Your cheeks instantly turned red at his nonchalance. How could he be so collected when his body was literally pinning yours to the floor? 

“Wasn’t paying attention,” he added.

Okay, so, he knew he should get off you. He knew he should get up and let you go on your way but this was the first time he’d got to speak to you without you instantly rushing off. What was a few more minutes pressed together on the floor? He looked at your face, your eyes avoiding his now, the faint tint of pink on your cheeks. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you squeaked out. Suddenly, you forgot how to breathe.

“What’s your issue?” Peter blurted out.

“What?”

“With me? Why’d you act like I’m the walking plague and avoid me at all costs? If I said somethin’ to ya at some point then I’m sorry but I’ve been wracking my brain and I don’t think I have.”

“I…” The words got lost on your tongue. ‘Seriously, get it together, brain,’ you thought. “You didn’t.”

Peter scrunched his face. “Then what is it? What’d I do to you?”

With his face so close to yours, his body pressing into you so you could feel every part of him, it was like someone had removed your brain from your head. There wasn’t a single coherent thought in there. “Nothing.”

His eyes narrowed as he noticed you avoiding his gaze at all costs. Then, it hit him. The way you couldn’t look at him, the blush on your cheeks. You liked him. A smirk graced that stupidly handsome face of his as he finally got off you, holding his hand out to help you up. Of course, you took it. His hand felt warm in yours, a little sweaty but you figured that was just because he had spent five minutes in that compromising position with you.

“You like me,” he pointed accusingly at you. His tone was smug. So damn smug.

“Wh-what? No!” A bold face lie.

“That’s why you avoid me. You got yourself a little crush on ol’ Quickie. I mean, who can blame you?” His grin lit up his whole face.

Now you really were flustered. Credit had to be given – he’d figured you out within five minutes of being around you and that was exactly why you had wanted to avoid being anywhere near him. This was going down as one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Your hands went to cover your face that was now burning hot. 

Peter shoved his hands in jacket pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “S’cool, babe. Think you’re pretty cute too.”

That made you peer at him through your fingers. “Really?”

“Yeah when you’re not avoiding me anyway.”

“Sorry.”

He waved his hand at you to dismiss your apology. “All good. I’ma need you to stop running away everytime you see me, though.”

You nodded, bringing your hands away from your face. Suppose that was something you could do now you’d broke the ice. Or, well, Peter had broken the ice. You’d done nothing but say five words and break the world record for blushing. “Okay, yeah but… uh, I do have to go. Um… need to return this book.”

He stepped out of your way, letting you pass. As you walked away, he called after you with that shit-eating grin still on his face. “See ya, cutie. Might ask you on a date next time I see you if it doesn’t make you spontaneously combust.”

Peter snickered to himself, feeling pretty confident with himself as he walked away. Meanwhile you were sure you were about to melt into a puddle on the floor.

[cynicalmusings]

had a couple more thoughts about socrates-esque!reader and anaxa, which i thought i may as well share:

you get a bad rap around the grove of epiphany, because you are, admittedly, rather annoying — anytime somebody’s finally submitting their thesis, you’ll butt in, ask a few questions, and suddenly three years of hard work goes right down the drain because oops, there’s a little oversight which, if you go down deeply enough, actually undermines the whole argument of the essay.

(people are genuinely beginning to leave herbs and offerings in front their doors in the hopes of warding you off. they do not seem to be working.)

point is, you’re infamous, and as a result are altogether treated pretty badly by the majority of other people; they’re rude, even though you respond to them civilly and politely, they make personal attacks on you instead of responding to your point, and so forth. (to be fair, there are some people who admire you—the majority is convinced you’re an evil messenger of some sort sent by zagreus to mess with everyone.)

you don’t care, of course—your interest lies in uncovering the truth, not what people think about you (in fact, were you concerned by people’s perception of you, you would have stopped questioning ages ago)—but funnily enough, there’s somebody who does get irked when they hear people badmouthing you behind your back (or indeed in front of your face), and this person is, surprisingly enough, anaxa.

he’ll never admit it—gods forbid, he’s far too prideful—but it really just… gets on his nerves when he hears all these nasty rumours being spread about you. if you’re going to criticise someone, especially in a debate, you criticise their position, not the person; it’s basic intellectual honesty and etiquette, and yet so many people forget it the moment you step into the room.

part of his vexation arises from this behaviour; part of it arises from a certain… fondness, one might say, which he has inexplicably developed towards you while he wasn’t looking.

so, whenever he catches people saying this kind of stuff, he will confront them. not in a particularly aggressive way, not in a way which betrays that he might, gods forbid again, actually care about and respect the subject of criticism, but he’ll go up and very flatly ask them to repeat what they said, provide evidence for their claims, and when said people inevitably come up spluttering for words, leave, and feel a tad more satisfied about it than he should.

tldr; anaxa has actually got your back, although he’ll never admit to it. nobody would guess it, considering how much you seem to get on his nerves with your constant challenges and questions to whatever he say, but it’s true. you were mildly surprised yourself the first time he spoke up from the sidelines in the middle of a debate and told your interlocutor to shut their mouth about your method of questioning and answer the question they’ve been so obviously avoiding.

anyway, let’s just hope you don’t get sentenced to drink hemlock. that would really piss him off.

[whaddayadothatfor]

Eucteniza relata

Summary: After catching Miguel in the act, you realize you’re trapped in his web. Miguel, tired of your smart mouth and disobedience, has a bone to pick with you.

Content warnings: dub-con humiliation, spanking, dom/sub dynamics, faux!vampire!Miguel because I’m obsessed

AN: This man is an asshole, y’all. Yummy. This is also so so nasty. Did anyone watch The Invitation?? Remember the scene with the door? Those that get it, get it. Anyways, I hope y’all like it! Oops and before I forget, there will be a third and final part. See ya!

Taglist: @quaintii @sunflowercandie @villainarc-2 @battinsonwhore05 @friendly-reject @baker-and-fangirl @cynicallyaestetic @alnmpt

MDNI

This is the second part to Ctenizidae! Check it out here if you haven’t read it yet: Part 1

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Miguel lifts you up, holding your hips in his hands. He trails his fangs from the base of your neck to that sensitive spot right beneath your ear lobe.

He bites down gently, just enough to draw both blood and a whimper out of you. He tugs your hair back so he can do want he wants without interference, kissing and sucking and biting as he pleases, paying no mind to your choked-back moans.

When he’s had enough, he moves to whisper in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

“You know, I’ve had just about enough of that mouth of yours—“

“My m-mouth has done nothing to you.” Miguel grabs your cheeks and smooshes them together, making all your words slur together.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” he groans, his head tilting upwards in exasperation. “You never know when to shut up, you always have something to say.”

You glare at him. You want to say something, but then you’d prove his point. He continues, sparing no attention to your restraint. Rude. Well then, if he’s just going to ignore you anyways, why bother?

“Y’know I have a reputation to uphold—“

“That sounds like a personal problem.” He glares at you, and you remember the position he has you in. Caged in between him and the wall, stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“It’s about to be your problem.” He lifts you easily over his shoulder and carries you across the room, dumping you unceremoniously onto the bed. “I think you need to be taught a lesson.”

As he sits down, you scramble over to the head of the bed, but Miguel grabs your ankle and yanks you back.

“Oh no, you don’t get to run. C’mere.” He manhandles you over his lap. You struggle against him, but it only works against you, like a spider’s prey working itself deeper into the web. Miguel is relentless and patient. He holds you down with one hand, waiting until you tire yourself out.

“Are you ready now?” At your silence, he continues. “Here’s what you’re gonna do: you’re going to take this spanking, like a good girl. And afterwards, you’re gonna say thank you.”

“This is ridiculous—“ You hissed after Miguel slapped your thighs, one after another in quick succession.

“I wasn’t finished. Be quiet.” He rubs the warmed skin gently before continuing. “You really have a problem with talking back. I think being on your knees will fix that. But first—“

He peels off your jeans but leaves your underwear, just enough that you ass was fully exposed. You feel like a schoolgirl getting paddled in the principal’s office. It is humiliating.

He groans, deep and guttural as he gropes your ass. “Dios mío, este culo.”

“Wait, hold on—“ He doesn’t. He strikes your right cheek, then your left. He does it over and over, in the same spot. He doesn’t stop, not when you arch your back, nor when you’re flailing your legs or even when your soft cries turn into low moans. “I can’t, Miguel. Please.”

He pauses. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying yourself, princesa.” He squeezes in-between your thighs and drags his two middle fingers across your slit. “Not when the evidence is dripping from your thighs.”

He shows you just how you enjoyed his attention by shoving his fingers into your mouth.

“Suck.” He fucks your throat with his long, thick fingers, making you gag and drool around them. “Good girl. Now I’m going to give you something bigger to choke on. Get on your knees.”

“No, Miguel. If you think I’m going to suck your dick like this, you’re insane.” You refuse adamantly.

“You just love to argue, huh baby?” Miguel just shakes his head. “Or maybe you just like being forced to do what you’re told. Either way, it doesn’t matter.”

He manhandles you once more, rearranging you until just your head hangs off of the bed. “I know just what you need.”

[readngandweepng]

afab!leon s. kennedy x top male reader

note: no pronouns for reader but written with a male in mind. not proofread whatsoever i couldnt bring myself to reread this lmfao. reader is kind of both a sub and dom, same with leon. i had no idea where i was going with this so strap in. also sorry to the anon that asked me to tag afab characters i didnt see the ask till now oops :(

leon’s hovering over you, your cock halfway inside him. his hands are on either side of you, alongside his legs that lay on each side of your thighs, keeping you firmly in place. slowly rocking his hips, the tip of your cock brushes gently against his walls. he lets out a shivery breath with every twitch of his hips. your eyes are locked into his deep stare, his blue eyes are hazy with lust. you can tell he’s fighting to keep them open—his eyes glossing over every time your hips jerk into his was indication enough. he could handle this. this is nothing, he can keep his composure perfectly fine. one jerk in particular, however, suddenly lands your cock inside of him completely and he chokes on a moan in an attempt to quiet himself, his eyes shutting momentarily before snapping back open to look into yours once more.

he swallows thickly before speaking, the tension in his voice evident. “that was dirty.” leon’s voice is somewhat crackly, but a welcome change in contrast to the stark silence of your bedroom. the smile he receives from you is irritating. though never explicitly stated, he knows what you’re trying to do. your fingers graze his skin, dancing around his waist, making his stomach cave and his pussy flutter. he internally curses at himself for letting weak touches get such a rise out of him, and before he can spit at you with a snide remark you lift your hips off the bed with purpose, a quick but deep thrust directly against his sweet spot. he almost buckles, a low moan slips from his lips as he grips onto the sheets under his hands. you chuckle, brushing his hair away that was sticking to the sweat of his forehead, revealing eyes that burn with ire. 

“stop it.” he says curtly. his body is completely still, almost afraid to move in fear of what his body would do in response. this kind of unpredictability was foreign, and leon wasn’t about to let you win this nascent fight. 

“why should i?” you say, not even bothering to hold back the same facetious smile. “afraid you’ll crack?” 

courageously, leon moves so that you have to raise your head up to look at him. you can tell the minor adjustment gives leon back some of his lost confidence when he takes your hands off of him and presses them down against the bed by the wrist, using the leverage to lift himself off and back onto your cock at a steady pace. leon is stone-faced, taking you with newfound resolve. breaking eye-contact, you admire his glistening body and the way he ungracefully bounces on your dick. the sight makes you groan, your face hot with reverence for leon and the sight he beholds. you can’t quite pinpoint his goal; does he want to break you? or better yet does he want to break you before you can break him? 

“holding me down is cheating,” you laugh breathlessly and it sends a shiver down leon’s spine, causing him to twitch around you (much to his chagrin). you don’t mean it, but your words make him speed up, your hips clashing together with fervor.

you can see now leon’s attempt to keep himself composed. his breath occasionally hitching, his grip on your wrists tightening when he feels like he’s about to lose it. he sighs deeply, barely able to keep his moans under wraps. his head lolls forward, his eyes shut tight. he’s so wrecked right now you could probably push him onto his back and fuck him until he can’t take it anymore, but you let him have this control, regardless of how fast it’s unraveling with every thrust of your cock inside him. 

“come on, leon.” you coo at him, his head raising momentarily to glare at you before falling forward back into place with a shaky breath. “look at yourself, you can barely keep yourself steady.” he shakes his head, a hand releasing one of your wrists and going over your mouth. with what you can, you lift yourself up to kiss his neck and caress his hip with your free hand. whether he realized it or not, he rests his body against yours and lets his arms wrap around you. his nails immediately dig into your skin as you move him up and down your cock. his face is tucked into your neck, muffling the moans that are pulled out of him when he’s slammed down onto your dick. 

with one last thrust leon convulses around your cock. you follow suit, cumming inside of him. you open your mouth to speak but leon once again slaps a hand onto your mouth, his words sharp but concise, “don’t say a word.” your smile grows beneath his palm and he rolls his eyes, planting an indirect kiss atop his clasped hand. 

[v1sexual]

power couple | vi, arcane

basketball player! vi x cheerleader! reader

warning/s: cursing, minor injury (?)

summary: in which you and vi have been keeping your relationship a secret from the public, but that was until an unfortunate injury during the nationals.

note: i am so sorry if this sucks lmao, i haven’t written anything in like almost a year. also i’ve been obsessed with the wnba lately so expect the next few fics to be basketball related… oops! also i have zero knowledge about cheer and about a 30% knowledge when it comes to basketball. anyways i hope you guys enjoy! sorry for any mistakes and spelling errors, also i had no idea how to end that. plus this fic was written at 3 in the morning.

hiding your relationship from the public has never been easy, but you and vi have both agreed that it would be for the best knowing that both of your lives will always be under the watchful eye of the public. your friends have been very helpful in helping hide the relationship, but with all the rumours going around and “evidence” circulating the media they could only do so much. especially when vi has a habit of always needing to touch you, and you being a sucker for vi’s touch.

exhibit a:

after a tough but rewarding game against piltover university, zaun’s basketball team decided to celebrate by going to the last drop for a round of drinks. jinx, in true jinx fashion, decided to host a live on one of her social media platforms. the live started out quite normal, fans asking questions, fans wanting to see specific team members etc.

“yo vi,” jinx called out to her sister. “the fans wanted to see you.” she then panned the camera to her right, showing vi sitting at the corner of the booth with you on her lap and her head on your shoulder.

sevika, who was standing next to jinx snatched her phone away, her eyes bulging from her head as she nodded towards vi and you. jinx laughed nervously and immediately changed the topic, as you hopped o vi’s lap (much to vi’s dismay).

@iluvbball: DID U GUYS SEE THAT

@munchmadness: WAS THAT A GIRL ON VI’S LAP???

@zaunbball4ever: call me crazy but is that (name)??? lLIKE CHEER CAPTAIN (NAME)??

sevika snorts and rolled her eyes, “you guys are crazy. there’s no way vi can pull her or anyone actually.” jinx nods in agreement, yapping about how she would know since she’s vi sister.

you rolled your eyes playfully at two, snickering as you ordered another round of drinks. vi squeezes next to jinx to say hi to the live, lying through her teeth saying that she just came back from the bathroom but the fans weren’t having it.

@igotjinxed: STOP LYINGG

@sevikasarms: bro ur nose is growing stop lying

@ilovegert: no because who else would have that fuckass haircut???

“yo leave my haircut out of this,” vi whined as her teammates cackled, which only made the fans eat the dating rumour up.

exhibit b:

after the chaotic live at the lost drop, you and vi (plus the whole basketball team) decided to be more careful. always making sure to hide from the cameras, started to plan date nights in your dorms, and just trying to tone down your interactions.

during your one year anniversary, vi booked a weekend getaway for the two of you at a cabin located in a small town two hours away from zaun. the two of you were still cautious of course, wearing your caps low and sunglasses resting on your noses. but of course, it’s still not enough.

during your last night at the cabin, you and vi decided to visit the village park to check out the local festival. the two of you were seated at one of the benches watching the fireworks when a camera flash from the distance caught your eye. vi froze as you buried your head in her neck,

“did you think they caught our faces?” you whispered as vi placed her arm around you, her hands covering your face. she shook her head, “i don’t think so, plus we both have our hoods up so they can’t drag my hair into this.’

you giggled, “poor you.”

the next day, on your back to zaun university, a call from sevika interrupted you and vi’s road trip karaoke sesh.

“have you guys opened any of your social media accounts?” she screeched, holding jinx’s cracked phone up. lo and behold, it was the picture from last night. vi’s arms around you, your head on her shoulder, but the two of you had your backs turned from whoever took the picture. the photos were grainy, a bit blurry, but there was one where you can make out the faint features of vi’s side profile as her head faces you. a small tuft of her pink hair peeking from her jackets hood, her crooked nose adorned with her nose piercing, and those powder blue eyes soft with affection.

you shrugged, “i don’t think its that bad.” vi nods in agreement, keeping her eyes on the road. “we literally have seen worse,” she added.

when the call ended, you decided to open your socials making sure you were using one of your dump accounts. “the comments are crazy,” you laughed, reading vi your favorites.

@nationsnumber1: okay but this is actually so sweet i want to cuddle and watch the fireworks too

@wassapphic: idek if this is actually vi and (name) like pls its so grainy and they’re not even facing the camera BUT this is so them coded

@iluvwomenwhohoops: nah man see that pink hair in the last photo??

@hoopsalot: idc if this isn’t them, my delusional heart say it is

exhibit c:

one of the perks of being in the cheer team is that you get to watch to vi play and cheer for her at the same time without anyone twisting it into something else. so here you are, courtside with the rest of the cheer team, clutching your pompoms as vi and the girls go neck to neck with piltover for the nationals.

every time vi shoots a three (or a two) she shoots you a quick glance, a smug smile on her face. she’s been doing this since the two of you started dating, but she’s been way more obvious about it recently. her gaze would linger, hell she’d even shoot a wink and it was enough for fans to notice. the next thing you know edits of you and her starts taking the internet by storm. but the crowd’s favorite edit is probably the one that has guilty as sin by taylor swift as the background music of a video compilation of you and vi.

@zaunufaves: is this wlw?

@getmiloed: you mean GAYlty as sin

@wlwbballs: i love the basketball player x cheerleader trope

@basketbawler: very “he was a punk and she did ballet” coded

“so much for being subtle violet,” you sighed, resting your head on her shoulder as the two of you scroll through tiktok.

—

it’s been two years of you and vi hiding your relationship from the public, but at this this point the whole world believes that there truly is something between you and her. the only reason why it’s not official yet is because, well, the two of you haven’t hard launched or confirmed anything. during interviews where reporters would bring up your relationship status, the two of you would always redirect the question or answer neutrally, not really denying or confirming anything. but that was until the nationals, zaun university vs the university of piltover. the game of the century, violet lanes vs. caitlyn kiramman, coach vander vs. coach silco.

the game was tough, both teams are going neck to neck, at the end of the second quarter piltover and zaun were tied 38-38. both teams were getting ready to head into their locker room to regroup and discuss the game plan, which means it was time for the cheer teams to shine. on your way to the court, you passed by the team and a series of “goodluck’ were exchanged.

“i’ll be watching you baby,” vi whispered under her breath as she passed by you, jinx groaned in annoyance and pushed her inside the tunnel after giving you and the other cheerleaders a high five.

ekko, one of your spotters and jinx’s boyfriend, elbowed you. “man you guys are so obvious.” he teases, you laughed and rolled your eyes. “let’s just focus on the routine.”

the routine went well as expected, heck it was perfect. your coach smiled and cheered from the sidelines, proud of you and the rest of the cheer team. as you guys got into the last part of the routine, somehow something went wrong. during one of the last stunts, one where you were thrown in the air, one that you and your team have practically perfected, you slipped. one second you’re in the air and the next thing you know you were falling. you tried your best to land on your feet in attempt to somewhat save the routine, but the landing was off as expected (since you weren’t supposed to land on the ground at all).

you clutched your ankle in pain, face paling as you looked at the way it bended unnaturally. your team scattered around you, shouting for medic and blocking you from the camera’s view. you laid there, tears streaming your face as your ankle swell up. your coach knelt next to you, “you did great (name), you’re okay.” she whispered ass you apologize profusely.

as you tried to even your breaths out, you heard vi shouting.

“move!” your girlfriend shouted, squeezing through the huddle your teammates made. vi was immediately on your side, her hands cupping your face. “you’re okay baby, breathe for me.”

“what are you doing here?” you whispered, ignoring your coach’s stare. “the media will—“

vi shuts you up with a kiss, “fuck that. you’re injured (name), i don’t care what they say.”

you nodded, resting you head on her lap as you waited for the medical team to arrive.

ekko handed you a towel which vi draped over your head as they loaded you to the stretcher. you can’t help but groan when your ankle was moved, vi immediately gripped your hands and told you that it was going to be okay, that the pain will be temporary. as the medics take you away vi followed, well attempted to but you shooed her away.

“you have a game to play violet,” you whispered harshly. she shakes her head, “but i want to be beside you, help you feel better.”

“the only thing you can do to help me feel better is if you win this vi,” you argued. “you practiced and trained your whole life for this and i’ll be damned if i let you miss it just because i got my ankle sprained.”

vi sighs, she squeezed your hand tight. “you sure?”

“knock ‘em dead violet,” you smiled, squeezing her hand back. vi nods slowly as she let your hand go, but before she went back to her team she pulled you in for a kiss. you kissed her back, a soft sigh escaping your lips when she pulled away. “make sure you watch yeah?” you replied with a nod before ushering her away as the medical team took you to a tent.

—

as the medics treat your ankle, you watched a live recording of the game on your phone. two quarters later, zaun emerges victorious winning this year’s national.

“oh thank god,” you murmured. you quickly sent vi and the rest of the team a short congratulatory text before putting your attention back to the livestream. a smile formed on your lips as members of the basketball team were pulled individually for short interviews, you laughed at how everyone was energized and pumped up (especially jinx who was literally vibrating during interview). then last but not the least was vi, your girl had a huge grin on her face as she happily answered the reporter’s questions but you could tell she wanted to get out of there quick.

“okay vi last question,” the reporter said. “during the halftime cheer performance, we all saw how you ran to cheer captain (name)’s side. heck, you even helped her onto the stretcher and refused to leave her side until she told you to go play and win tonight. the two of you have always never denied nor confirm the dating rumour that’s been brewing for two years now, but i think tonight changes that now? especially because of the sweet kiss you shared before you went back courtside, any comments?”

you groaned, completely forgetting about the kiss. you watched vi, you can see the cogs in her head turning. she stayed quiet for a minute, you knew how important it is for her to ask your opinion on what to and what not to say publicly about your relationship, but at this point the kiss pretty much confirms it.

“yeah i guess the cat’s out of the bag.” vi smiles at the camera and shrugs, “(name) and i have been together for awhile now. we weren’t really trying to keep it a secret, just private. but tonight changes it you know? seeing my girl get injured like that was just— yeah.”

the reporter nods, “thank you vi. before you go, is there anything you want to say to her? knowing that she’s watching this?”

“hey baby.” vi smiles cheekily at the camera. “i cannot thank you enough for the support and motivation. i couldn’t have done it without you, i love you so much my cheerleader.” she winked as everyone laughs.

“sweet, thanks vi.” the reporter said as vi went back to her team as they presented trophies. “there you have it folks, this year’s national champions and couple of the year.”

your jaw drops, you were absolutely speechless. the nurse who sat at the desk near you let’s out a chuckle which only made your cheeks grew 10x redder than it was.

—

“i swear the internet is eating this up,” jinx said, as you and the rest of your friend group lounged at vi’s dorm. jinx’s phone was connected to the tv as everyone watched replays of the games, fan edits, and fan reactions to the championship game. you and vi were tucked away at the corner of the couch, your feet propped up on one of foot rests as she cuddled you.

after a couple of minutes of mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, jinx stumbled upon a new fan edit of you and vi. the clips were taken from her interview and the kiss that happened on live tv.

“i cannot believed you guys did that,” sevika said as she shook her head, laughing as jinx scrolled through the comments projecting it through the tv.

@ho0p3r: AND THE GAYS WIN AGAIN

@iloveyn: i told you guys they were dating! can’t believe i got called crazy for shipping them

@zaunch33r: this may or may not be the best thing to happen in women’s college bball

@ynandvi4ever: (ship name) deniers how are ya’ll feeling

@sapph1csports: me and WHO

you rolled your eyes playfully and just buried your face in vi’s chest as she laughed. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “at least we won’t have to spout anymore stupid excuses.”