#the game immediately ended after the practice and I got a try again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweetbans29 · 4 months

Text

Teach Me: The Art of Teasing (iii) - PB

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Readers

Previous Part & Next Part

Summary: You and Paige have been best friends for the last 6 years. You trust her completely. And it is because of that trust that you ask her a rather forward question. AKA - You ask Paige to teach you.

Warnings: Mature, I didn't proofread this one, I will eventually 🫠

Word Count: 4.7k

Sweetbans Masterlist & Teach Me Masterlist

AN: Well well well. We meet again 😉

Friday night approached faster than you had expected. You went on the date with the girl from your class and everything went well. Both of you hit it off right at the start and the night ended with her asking to see you again. Overall it was a good time.

You get back from your date to find Paige in her room playing Fortnite. Coming in, you plop on her bed and start scrolling through your phone.

If there was anything that you learned about your best friend it was to not interrupt her while she was gaming. You only made the mistake once but it was enough to never do it again.

It was junior year of high school and you and Paige were heading back to her place after practice. Your dad had put them through a brutal practice and even though you weren't physically involved in it, it was mentally exhausting. Due to the teams' physical exhaustion, their game was off and it was hard to watch.

When you got to Paige's house, she went straight in to take a shower and you fell on her bed - falling asleep almost immediately.

You wake up, the sun already set and the only light source in your best friend's room coming from Paige's computer screen.

Stretching, you let out a low moan, your head still pounding from earlier. You sit up and scoot over the side of the bed closest to where Paige is sitting.

You tap her shoulder, wanting to see if she wants to get food.

She ignores you, eyes glued to the screen. Her headset is on and you know it would be pointless to try and talk to her.

You keep poking her, at one point trying to hold of her hand to get her attention. It isn't until Paige jerks away from you that you realize you may not be wanted there right now. You take the hint, trying not to feel too hurt that your best friend is ignoring you, and make your way home.

It wasn't late enough to be worried about driving but your headache should have been. You get home and immediately open your fridge grabbing something to eat then make your way to your own bed.

Sleep comes a little harder for you this time around - your mind is still on Paige pulling away from you. You watch the practice footage to try and pin down what the team can do to adjust, taking some notes as your eyes begin to feel heavy again. You fall asleep with your phone in your hand.

You are woken up by someone pulling your phone out of your hand.

Your eyes flutter open as you see Paige moving your phone to your nightstand.

"B?" You ask confused as to why she should be here.

She doesn't say anything, but rather gets under the covers next to you and curls up next to you. When she does, you slightly inch away from her still feeling the sting of pulling away from you earlier. She sighs.

"I'm sorry." She says. You don't respond, not really wanting to talk about it right now - not really sure why her pulling away from you affected you as much as it did.

"I get so wrapped up in the game and after the practice today, and I - I don't know," Paige says as she is now tossing in your bed. The frustration evident.

If you were honest with yourself - there is really no reason for you to be upset at the girl. You just watched the practice film again and it is clearly visible how much Paige was off her game. At the end of the day - she has the right to be frustrated even if it comes off on you.

"Noted - don't bug B when she is playing Fortnite," you joke, knowing there is no point in holding a grudge over something so simple.

Paige pushes you, then immediately pulls you back to her.

"I guess I am just not as important as your game," you say jokingly.

"Shut up and go to sleep," she says. You just shake your head and turn over, falling asleep next to your best friend.

That was also the night that you learned Paige doesn't like to sleep alone.

You aren't waiting long before Paige is off her game, jumping on her bed next to you. You don't look up from your phone when you hear her speak.

"So...how was it?" She asks, not fully knowing if she wants to hear the answer.

"It was good, we really hit it off. She wants to go out again next week," you say with a smile.

Paige just nods. She pushes you a little further.

"Did you get to put our first lesson to use?" Paige asks.

"Maybe," you say with a light blush creeping into your cheeks.

You did put your first lesson to use but it wasn't what you had expected. The kiss came after dinner when the two of you went for a walk before she dropped you off.

It was nice, but it wasn't like kissing Paige.

Never in a million years would you admit that to her, you couldn't. She's your best friend. She also goes out and has her own fun, so why couldn't you?

Paige pushes you in a teasing manner.

"Okay okay, we both need to go to bed - it's an early practice tomorrow and you, little miss, need some rest." You say as you bop her nose.

She gives her cute little Paige smile and you get up and begin to head out of her room.

"You aren't staying here tonight?" She asks - trying not to show her disappointment.

"I just need to wash my face and change B, I'll be right back," you say going into your room.

Paige sits on her bed and she feels that nagging at her heart again. She picks up her phone and scrolls through it, finding a familiar name, and shooting them a text. It takes less than a minute for them to respond.

[Come over, I'll be waiting] - 10:33pm

Paige gets up and grabs a jacket, making sure it isn't one of yours and walks out of her room.

You walk out of your room with a clean face and fresh PJs.

"Are you going somewhere?" You ask, ready to curl up in bed.

"Ya...don't worry about waiting up. I'll see you at practice tomorrow morning," she says not making eye contact with you.

"Okay B, be safe." You say, knowing exactly where she is going. There is no hiding the disappointment on your face as she walks past you and out the door.

It looks like you are sleeping in your own bed tonight.

You get to practice early to watch some recent practice films. Since seeing your IQ for the game - Geno invited you to practices which then led to him adding a 'student manager' spot for you on the team. It became a win-win situation. You got to learn from one of the best college basketball coaches and he got to another person to help bring the team to another victory. It also helped that your dad and Geno have been lifelong friends.

You are sitting in the film room - your plan was to watch the practice reels but when you are the first one in you can't help but play older game film.

Putting it on the screen, you kill the lights and sink into one of the chairs.

"My first NCAA championship win," Geno says as he walks into the room. "I can remember it like it was yesterday."

He takes a seat a few away from you and watches just as intently as you are.

"This team was incredible - you went undefeated that season and I can see why." You say, eyes not daring to rip away from the screen.

"Ya, their knowledge of the game was unlike any I have seen before. Their chemistry and willingness to put their head down and work is something that really drove the team dynamic." He says. "I think this team can get there."

You give him a hum.

"How long have you been here?" He asks knowing practice doesn't officially start for another 45 minutes.

"Oh I haven't been here long," you say which was a complete lie. You are into the fourth quarter of the game and Geno knows you never start a film midway.

He just nods, knowing not to push it. Geno has seen you grow up - it wasn't all the time but he is one of the only people who knows you almost as well as your dad. He's the only one at UConn who knows why you stopped playing basketball in the first place and that speaks volumes. He also knows that when there is something on your mind, you pour yourself into the game.

The two of you sit in silence as the game comes to a close.

"I should start watching last practice films," you say as you navigate bringing up the tapes.

"Why don't you go do a shootaround to clear your mind?" He suggests. It has been a while since you have done one and he knows it would do you good.

You nod and he follows you out.

During practices, you mess around with the team but never really put a shot up. And when it comes to working and training with Paige - it is always her. If you were honest with yourself you knew you missed the game - you missed being on the court being a part of the 5.

Geno goes to the baseline and you pick up a ball, beginning to dribble it. You put up your first shot and miss.

Geno hits you with the ball and you do a little step back going up for another. It hits the rim but falls in. You give yourself a nod and Geno hits you again. You make your way around, putting up a variety of shots. On the last one you put up, you hit from deeper than you intended, leaving your hand up as the ball finds its way perfectly into the basket.

You hear clapping come from the back corner of the gym alongside some cheering.

You whip your head around to find Azzi and Aaliyah walking towards you.

"Girl can shoot!" Aaliyah says as she comes over giving you a playful nudge.

"Why have we never seen you shoot?" Azzi asks. "You are actually really good."

"Well duh she is good - she is the reason our team shooting average has gone up 5%," Aaliyah says as if it was a known thing that you could play ball.

The rest of the team begins to arrive and Paige walks up to the three of you.

"Yo P, you just missed it!" Aaliyah says as she goes on about seeing you put up a deep three. Paige turns to you with tired eyes but a surprising look.

Whenever you and Paige would practice, you would rarely put up a shot. She would always encourage you knowing you used to play but you always refused. Paige would try and push it but you would straight up end the practice which then forced Paige to back off. As close of friends as you are - she has never seen you put up a three. Now her teammates have and can't stop raving about it which causes a jealous fire to burn within her. If Paige just would have left and gone home last night (or in the dark hours of the morning) then she would have arrived with Azzi and Aaliyah. But no, she spent the night at that girl's apartment and had to go grab her practice gear before coming.

Paige nods, eyes not leaving you.

You on the other hand were fixated on Azzi and Aaliyah as Geno claps for everyone to get moving.

You make your way to the practice room and Paige runs up to walk with you.

"So you're putting up threes now?" Paige says, trying not to sound hurt because in the grand scheme of things she had no reason to be.

"Just clearing my mind," you say picking up your playbook.

Just as Paige is about to ask why you were clearing your head Geno is yelling at Paige to get geared up for practice so she bites her tongue.

Paige heads in and gets ready.

The team made it through practice - they were getting ready for the toughest game of the season. You are sitting at your desk in the office finishing up some work when Paige walks in and sits across from you.

The whole practice, you couldn't take your eyes off of her. It was painful. The memory of her leaving last night and your imagination creating the plot of what happened after she left had you sick. It wasn't the first time she went out to have a good time with someone who you never asked about but with new feelings stirring in you about your best friend.

"So...clearing your mind?" Paige asks, not dropping the topic from before practice. Similarly to you, Paige's mind was going a mile a minute. She was trying to suppress the jealousy that just continued to build every time she saw Azzi talk to you during practice. Paige had been trying for years to get you to do a shoot around and they got to see you do one without asking. Paige was going to get to the bottom of this if it was the last thing she did today.

"Yep, I didn't sleep well," you say not looking at her. That was as much as you wanted to disclose.

Paige felt her heart fall. You didn't say it but she knew it had to do with her telling you to get ready and then running out last night. She didn't really want to but knew she needed a distraction from you - if Paige was honest with herself, she would have much rather slept by your side.

"I also didn't sleep well," Paige says.

You finally look up at her.

"I'm surprised you slept at all," you say starting to joke with her again.

Paige's hand comes up to her face, rubbing it to hide the blush creeping up her neck and face. She mumbles 'should've stayed home' and you chuckle.

"Well can't change the past but we can both go home and nap," you say packing up your stuff and standing.

Paige stands awkwardly, all her normal confidence drained from her.

You grab her arm and hook yours around it and walk out. Paige tries to shake the feeling of having you so close to her but all she can think about is the feeling of your lips on her. How your skin felt on her fingertips. How her body was on fire when it was pressed up against yours.

The two of you make your way back to the apartment and you immediately fall onto your bed.

"B, come lay down and nap with me." You say, eyes closed. Paige is just standing in your room, slowly pacing.

"B, come here." You say.

She sighs and sits on your bed, not lying down yet.

"Why haven't you ever done a shoot around with me?" Paige asks.

"B, you know I don't want to talk about it," you say with a groan.

"You never want to talk about it," she says almost mad that you won't talk to her about the most dramatic time of your life.

"When I am ready, I will," you say sitting up. "Where is this coming from?" You say coming to sit next to her.

She shakes her head and suddenly feels silly about how much missing you shoot a basketball is affecting her. She looks down at her hands picking at her nails.

You grab her hands and bring them to your lap.

"B, what's up? Talk to me." You say begging her.

"I didn't get to see it," she says. "It is so dumb to think about how much not seeing you shoot a basketball is making me feel but I have known you for how long now and I haven't seen you do what I love. I have bugged you so much to get you to shoot with me and you never do. Now Azzi and Aaliyah have seen something I have waiting so long to see and," Paige tries to find the words.

"Hey, B. No one was supposed to see it. That was for me and no one else. They just happened to get to practice early, which usually includes you..." you say trying to get her to get out of her head over the matter.

"When I am ready, I will tell you, I promise." You say looking at your best friend.

She just nods, looking into your eyes. She slowly begins to lean in, her eyes flickering in between your eyes and your lips. You try to maintain your breathing as Paige moves closer to you.

Her hands remove from yours, one of them coming to your face, caressing it in the softest manner. This is the complete opposite of what Paige was doing last night. Any time Paige goes and meets some random girl it is always fast and needy, always self-focused. This is different. You are different.

You lick your lip and lightly bite down on it. Paige's eyes nearly roll back at the sight. Her thumb comes up and removes your lip from your bite, yet again.

"I should shower," Paige says just above a whisper, her eyes not leaving your lips. Her breathing is uneven. You are right in front of her, she could take you right here, right now and you would be hers. You are willing to let her do anything she wants and you want to tell her that but you just nod.

"When I am out, we will start your next lesson," Paige says as she rubs your bottom lip with her thumb. "The art of teasing."

Paige then gets up and makes her way to take a shower, leaving you there stunned and excited for what is to come.

You lay down and begin scrolling on your phone. After waiting about 20 minutes and still hearing the shower on, you close your eyes to rest.

When you realize you have fallen asleep, you shoot up. Looking around, you see Paige asleep next to you. Her arms wrapped around one of your pillows, her phone right next to her hand. You smile when you see her and lay back down. This is your normal. You missed this.

You lay and scroll on your phone a little longer before getting up and deciding to work on some homework. You grab your laptop, sit on your side of your bed, and begin working. You are deep into a paper when you feel the bed shift.

"Mmmmmm," Paige groans and stretches out knocking your laptop off your lap.

"Hey!" You say grabbing it before it falls on the floor.

"Put it away," she says. "Time for a lesson," she is now making her way to a sitting position as she rubs her eyes.

You listen and close your computer, putting it on the floor next to your bed, and sit to face her.

"I'm ready," you say more excited than you are ready to admit.

"When you are getting ready to start something with your partner - you don't just want to rush into things. You want to make sure that you are getting her ready and making sure she feels good." Paige says as you hang on to every word.

"I am going to need you to be very verbal okay? I need you to tell me everything you are thinking." She says.

"Okay," you respond.

"First I am going to try things on you and you need to tell me if they feel good okay? Then it will be your turn." Paige says as she takes your hand and stands up, taking you with her.

"Got it," you say now standing to face her.

"Close your eyes," Paige says and you give her a questioning look. "Just do it ma."

You close your eyes and take a deep breath.

You hear Paige shuffle around and you feel her move your hair to one side of your neck.

Her hands make their way to your waist, almost as if to keep you where you are (or more like keep her grounded). She begins whispering in your ear, lips ever so slightly grazing the shell of your earlobe.

"You look so hot standing here waiting for me to touch you." She says sending chills down your spine. Her lips hover over your shoulder as she kisses it. You hum at the contact.

Paige's lips pepper kisses up your neck. Her hand comes up and tilts your neck to the side, giving her more access.

You groan when her lips hit the sweet spot right under your ear.

"Feels...so good B," you moan as she continues on your neck.

Her hand which is still on your hip, wraps around and makes its way under your shirt, resting on your stomach. Her fingers take in the feeling of your skin on them.

You lean back into her as you feel yourself wanting more.

Her hands make their way to the bottom of your shirt, "Can I take this off, babe?"

"Yes," is the only thing you trust yourself to say.

She lifts your shirt over your head. You suddenly feel like Paige can see everything but you are still in your shorts and bra. Your arms come around to try and cover your front but Paige just grabs them, putting them down and making her way to stand in front of you.

"Don't you dare hide from me, ma. You are gorgeous." Paige says looking into your eyes. You nod and blush.

"Thanks, B."

Your hand is the first to move as it comes up to her cheek and you pull her in. You know she is leading but you have been dying to feel her lips on yours again.

Your lips find hers and she is immediately fighting you for dominance. You cave and give it to her, knowing it is going to be hard to not bend to her will every single time whenever you are in these lessons.

Paige hooks her fingers in your shorts bringing your hips to hers then pushing you down on the bed.

She takes a second to take you in, wanting to remember this even if it is only to teach you.

"Is everything okay?" You ask, confused as to why she stopped.

"Couldn't be better," she says as she makes her way to you.

"So with teasing, you want to get the other riled up. You want to turn them on and get them ready for what is to come. Or should I say to get them to come," Paige jokes and you just roll your eyes.

"You are unbelievable," you say now laughing at your best friend.

One of her hands draws shape on your inner thigh and her lips come to hover above your torso.

"But I'm right, and that is what I will show you," she says as she is now peppering kissing on your stomach.

Her lips make their way up to your chest, then eventually your neck again. Your breath picks up and becomes uneven.

"Your lips feel so good," you say squeezing your eyes shut. She hums against your skin and begins to make her way back down your body. Your hands come up to her head as you run your fingers through her hair.

Paige uses her hands to push your shorts up a little then places a kiss on your thigh and you let out the loudest moan yet. This causes a pool to form both in your center and hers. She moves one of your legs to continue placing kisses on your inner thigh, lightly sucking on your sensitive skin.

"Paige!" You yell, not knowing what else to do. You have never felt this good before and she hasn't even truly touched you. She stops immediately and looks up at you. You are panting now, looking into her eyes.

Her pupils are dilated. Hearing you yell her name does something to her that she can't explain.

"I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from," you say embarrassed.

She shakes her head no, "Don't ever apologize for such a beautiful sound."

She crawls up to hover above you.

"Okay babe, you got a glimpse of areas that feel good, do you think you want to give it a go?" She asks and you nod.

"Come on babe, you know I need to hear you," she says.

"I can try," you say.

Paige lays next to you as you shift to hover above her.

"I am going to kiss your neck," you say a little nervous but lean in and lightly press your lips to her neck. You bring one of your legs in between Paige's and let your weight rest on her.

"Is this okay?" You ask her.

"More than okay ma," she says. "Use your hand to hold my head to the side to give you more access to my neck." She directs and you follow her instructions.

Your lips come back to her neck as you begin to kiss and suck on certain parts of her neck. You hear her let out the quietest moan and you take that as a sign that you are doing a good job.

"Can I take this off?" You ask as you pinch at her shirt.

"Shit, of course, baby," she says and you lift it above her head and toss it to the side of your bed.

Your lips come and kiss the center of her sports bra and begin to kiss lower on her stomach. You take your time kissing every ab. This is what gets a louder moan to escape from Paige's lips as her fingers go to grip your sheets. You continue further down and do exactly what she did to you, pushing her shorts up and kissing along her inner thigh.

Paige has never had someone spend this kind of time on her. It is usually her pleasing other girls and she typically takes pride in that. It is usually her ability to make girls feel good that is enough for her but here she is, sprawled out in front of her best friend - the girl she loves but would never admit to, feeling the best she has ever felt and this was only your first time.

"Feels so good," she moans as you continue to kiss her skin. Her hand comes up to your head. Your hand comes to hers and brings it around so you can kiss the inside of her wrist.

"You are something else," Paige says almost out of breath. You just chuckle and continue to kiss up her arm.

"Am I doing good B?" You ask as you are once again hovering above her.

Her hand comes to your face stroking your cheek.

She wants to tell you how incredible you are and how she wants you to be hers. She wants to tell you not to date that girl from your class and that she'll stop seeing other girls. That she is all yours if you will have her. She wants to tell you how she can't stop thinking about you or the way your lips belong to her. She wants to tell you she loves you and has for years now. But none of that comes out and she takes a deep breath and settles for something that won't expose her love for you.

"A+."

AN: Please let me know what you think, I have mixed feelings about this one. You guys have been awesome in this series, I truly appreciate it! And as always, thank you for you love and support 💙

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers imagine #paige bueckers masterlist #teach me series

487 notes · View notes

bouncybongfairy · 5 months

Text

Recreatinal Fun

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: You work at the sporting good's store where you first meet Art. He casually flirts with you while buying a tenis racket. You close the store early to hook up with him in the back.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Female Recieving Head, Sex At Work, Semi Public Sex, Cumshot On Belly.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

It was pretty slow today, a father and son duo coming in looking for cleats. An older woman looking for a swim cap for her water aerobics class. You were cleaning the register counter, trying to pass the time when Art walked in. He was wearing a hoodie and shorts, it was raining so his hair was wet and in his face. He came up to you with a smile, asking where the rackets were. You set your rag down to direct him to the display.

“Normally I would recommend one but I don’t think I need to for a pro,” you said.

“Well, this will only be for recreational fun. I can’t take my lucky one into the gym, it’ll be tainted with desperation,” he laughed, grabbing one of them.

“Are you in town for the fundraiser tournament?” you asked.

“I am, are you?” he asks.

“No, I grew up here. I just graduated and I’m working here till I start college this spring,” you explain, playing with your necklace.

“Hopefully I’ll see you there,” he said as the two of you walked towards the register. What a day to go commando you thought to yourself. The entire time you talked, you couldn’t stop staring at his lips. So pink; they were practically red. He handed you a credit card, his fingertips brushing against your hand as you grabbed it. Looking up at the T.V while you finished ringing him up, making his jaw line dangerously sharp. You handed the bag over, expecting that to be the end of it.

“Do you mind if I look around for a while?” he asked.

“Knock yourself out,” you laughed, going back to work and stalking the shelves.

It was hard to keep your eyes off him, continuously catching each other in a glance before looking away. He would squeeze past you in a particularly small aisle. You were starting to feel like he was trying to get your attention. Constantly coming up and asking questions that he should know the answer to as a pro athlete. After playing this little game for a while you determined he was trying to get your attention. Having enough, you decided to break the ice and approach him again.

“Are you doing anything right now? Like, are you free for the next couple hours?” you ask.

“No, why?” he asked, setting down the merchandise he had in hand.

“Do you wanna hook up in the back?” you asked, clasping your hands behind your back.

His eyes widened and a smirk creeped onto his face. You walked over towards the front of the store; changing the open sign to closed and locking the door. Grabbing him by the index finger and leading him towards the back of the store. You opened the wooden door and led him to the small hallway where the inventory was.

Turning around and gazing up at him, the look in his eye immediately making your sex feel warm and achy. He grabbed your face and pressed his bottom lip against yours; like he was feeling out the territory. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth. Swiping your tongue along his soft, warm lip.

He deepened the kiss, now becoming more comfortable and sloppy. Picking you up and setting you on the small table pressed against the wall. He got between your legs that were dangling, pressing his body against yours. Working your lips together while melting your body’s to each other.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, gently pulling him closer. Running your fingers through his soft hair as he tried his best to feel up every inch of your body. You reached down and started to unbutton your jeans, kicking off your shoes in the process. He pulled away and unexpectedly got on his knees. Grabbing your ankles and positioning your feet on the desk and holding them there. You have a feeling what’s coming next so you pull your panties to the side so he doesn’t have to.

He buries his face in your folds, licking and lapping desperately. Your head falls back against the cement wall. Gasping every time his tongue flicked over your clit, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your entire body. His hands eventually moved from your ankles to your inner thighs; his thumbs caressing your flesh that was prickled with goosebumps. He couldn’t get enough of you, feeling how hot and swollen your sex was against his lip made him shudder with pleasure.

You were pulling and yanking at his hair; drowning in pleasure while he ate you out.

After a while of this, he stood up; chin dripping with drool and your wetness. Smashing his mouth against yours, sloppily working your lips together. His dick throbbed while he thought about how you were tasting yourself. Pulling back and leaving a trail of saliva that connected your lips. He brought his hand to his mouth and wiped the drool off, using it as lubricant to stroke himself easier. Lining himself up with your entrance and slowly pushing inside you.

Your warmth envelops him completely in the most overwhelming way. Feeling his length pulse once he was fully bottomed out. He rested his forehead against yours as he slowly started pulling out and fucking back in. One arm wrapped around your waist and the other holding onto your ass. Pulling you into each of his thrusts. Hearing the wet noises along with the sound of skin slapping skin made your blood buzz. The slight sting paired with the pure pleasure every time his tip slid against your walls was a euphoric combination.

He was letting out raspy breaths, thrust becoming harder. Like he was losing care about your pleasure; too focused on chasing his own high. You mewled as his tip started hitting your g-spot, racking your nails down his back. Letting your mind go empty as a wave of overwhelming pleasure ripped through your body.

He pressed his hips against you, burying himself as deep as possible for a couple seconds just before cumming. Wanting to enjoy your heat a little longer before pulling out and cumming on your belly. Rubbing his tip around in the mess before pulling away and getting dressed. You followed suit, after using a paper towel to clean up the mess.

#art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x y/n #art donaldson x you #art donaldson x fem reader #art donaldson smut #art challengers #the challengers fanfic #The challengers smut #challengers #challengers x reader

634 notes · View notes

girlokwhatever · 4 months

Text

✵✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩⊹ ⋆｡˚⋆ she loves me, she loves me not,,

part one ; beginning of the end

next part

paige bueckers x fem!reader (fake dating trope)

you didn’t care when you found out your ex got a new girlfriend. you were completely over her and her antics, realizing in the last few months of your relationship how utterly exhausting it was. it wasn’t until you found out that her new girlfriend was the girl she cheated on you with that you cared.

it was stupid really, the whole situation. your ex girlfriend, bianca, cheated on you whilst out at a party, you hadn’t gone, opting to instead watch one of paige’s home games with her team. you met paige your freshman year, instantly growing an inseparable bond with her. she was absolutely your closest friend, much to bianca’s disliking. you chopped it up to the fact that bianca wasn’t a fan of any of your friends and left it at that.

when bianca tried justifying her cheating on you because of your close relationship with paige, it took you off guard.

2 MONTHS AGO

you were waiting for your girlfriend to show up. your heart was racing and your breath uneven but honestly, it was long overdue. it had been months since you actually shared a happy moment with bianca, easily able to find more enjoyment in your friends.

you’d found out from a close friend that she had cheated on you at least once, maybe more. your friend spotted her at a party with a girl, kissing and grinding on each other. it was all making sense to you now. the way she was almost too close, too clingy. as if she was overcompensating for a mistake. a huge mistake.

“babe? what’s up?”

“why’d you fuck another girl at a party two weeks ago?”

she went silent, eyes wide with shock. her face spoke for her, affirming that what you thought to be true actually was. even though your relationship had been rocky, especially towards the end, it still broke your heart. she was your high school sweetheart. she even committed to uconn just for you.

it meant fuck all now.

“don’t act like you’re so innocent, princess.”

she doesn’t even try to deny it, immediately spitting back at you. you’re not even sure what she’s referring to, but it looks like she believes it.

“what are you talking about?”

“really?!” she scoffs, “don’t act like you don’t know what i’m talking about. i know about you and paige, how you’ve been sneaking around behind my back.”

“are you fucking dumb?! paige and i are just friends bianca! oh my god- even when you know you’ve done something wrong you can’t admit it.”

you were walking around the corner of the counter when she grabbed you hard. her aggressive behavior was nothing new, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. part of you was wishing it would work out, but a greater part of you was glad she’d finally pushed you over the edge.

“let go of me and get the hell out.”

“excuse me?!”

“i said, get the fuck out, and don’t fucking come back.”

PRESENT DAY

you, paige, and some of your mutual friends were out at your favorite bar. it was a friday night and none of you had anything better to do.

you’d done some rotations: drinking, dancing, singing, sitting down, dancing again, but now you were back to sitting. you took a seat next to paige and she was thankful for that, but you hardly acknowledged her.

after bianca’s excuse for cheating on you being your close relationship with paige, you had distanced yourself considerably. you stopped showing up randomly to her dorm and practices, stopped calling, and stopped asking to hang out too. paige knew you and bianca broke up and kept telling herself you were just trying to get over that. occasionally she’d reach out to ask you if you were doing okay, sometimes it’d take you more than a day to answer.

it hurt paige more than it should’ve and she knew that. for years, ever since she’d met you, she’s had feelings for you. even when she tried to avoid them, you were all she could think about. it was difficult considering you had a psycho girlfriend that you refused to let go of until recently. even now that you were single it was no use, not if you were going to treat her like she didn’t exist.

you hadn’t noticed bianca and her new girlfriend walk in, too enamored by the bubbles in your drink. paige noticed though, watching the way your ex’s eyes scanned the room. paige looked away before she got caught staring, settling her elbows back on the bar.

“have you been having a good night?” paige asked just to get some conversation flowing with you. she missed being so close to you, even if she knew she always wanted more. she’d rather settle for a friendship with you than have nothing at all.

“s’been good. might go home soon though,”

“want me to take you home princess?” it was a teasing nickname that she called you, an old inside joke. when bianca heard it she decided to start calling you that too unironically, completely unaware of the joke.

“i think-”

“princess.”

bianca’s voice cut through the atmosphere like a sharpened knife, offering a completely different tone than the way paige said it. her new girlfriend must’ve run off somewhere, seeing as it was only her that had approached you. she took the barstool next to you, sliding her chair to face you. she looks unimpressed and expectant, not surprised to see paige lingering by your side.

“i need to talk to you.”

“talk to your new girlfriend. y’know, the one you cheated on me with.”

“she’s not my girlfriend” —another toxic lie “i just want to talk to you.”

“no.”

“princess-”

“fuck you.” you seethe out a her, hoping it’s enough to keep her quiet. unfortunately though, it isn’t.

“don’t talk to me like that.”

you try avoiding bianca, turning to paige and muttering a quick ‘can we go.’ it’s difficult to hear you but she does, standing up and pushing her chair in. bianca loathes paige, always has. as soon as you met paige all you wanted to do was talk about her, hang out with her, study with her, and bianca couldn’t stand it.

“and you tried calling me dumb when i found out you two were hooking up behind my back,” she scoffs as if it’s obvious.

paige’s eyebrows knit in confusion, you never mentioned that part. paige doesn’t know what made bianca think that, but she secretly wishes there was some truth to it, as bad as it may be. even when doing something she knows is wrong, paige has never regretted a second spent with you.

you knew you were probably too drunk to make a decision this big. as soon as the thought popped into your head you favored it, wanting to get back at bianca for all she put you through. you didn’t even give it a second thought, your mouth running faster than any of your cognitive abilities at the moment.

“guess you were right, but hey— she treats me better than you ever did.”

both bianca and paige are shocked, completely taken aback by your statement. what were you getting at?

“so what- you’re dating now?”

“yep. thanks for helping me realize i could do so much better.”

before you have time to show your fleeting confidence and the fact that you just lied straight through your teeth, you grab paige’s hand and walk off. you’re honestly not sure how she’ll react or how you’ll move from here.

either of you say a word until you’re in the silent safety of her car. she turns to face you, a blank expression written across her face. it makes it difficult to figure out what’s going on in her mind. you wish you could tell, it’d probably make things easier. you can tell that she’s a bit flustered, but maybe that’s just because of how hot it was inside.

“paige?”

“yeah?”

“i know this is probably going to be a really weird question and maybe the question itself is too late because i’ve already dug us into this hole but i swear you don’t have to go through with it..”

“okay..”

“will you, um.. will you be my fake girlfriend?”

she’s conflicted, torn between her better judgement and overall feelings for you. her body surges with anger at the way bianca talked to you tonight. but her body also swells with pride and attraction after hearing you say those things about dating her, even if she knows it’s not real. she wants it to be real so desperately and she’s knows she’s already made up her mind without needing to think it through.

one hand is on the steering wheel and the other drags itself down her face, questioning internally if she’s really going to go through with this. her silence settles on you, panic rising as you realize maybe you’ve just ruined your friendship. or what was left of it.

“you can say no obviously-”

“i’ll do it.”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟׂׂૢ

UMMM i’ll spell check this tmr

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

i kinda don’t.

THIS IS A SERIES YALL

#paige bueckers #paige buckets #uconn wbb #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #angst with a happy ending #wlw slay #wlw yearning #lgbtq #lesbian #lgbtqia

579 notes · View notes

imaginespazzi · 1 month

Text

Part 6: To Trying Again

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

I don't wanna mess this thing up (I don't wanna push too far)

(In which an "evil" writer might surprise you guys just a little bit with this part)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.6K

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Happy Monday lovelies! This is sort of a filler-ish short chapter though I do think it's important to both plot and character development. I'd like to preface this by saying I've never been to Minsk or Park Pieramohi so I'm very much going off of pictures. Editing and I remain on very, very bad terms so pretty please let me know of typos so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

July 2018

“You’re being too loud,” Azzi whisper-screams at the blonde girl in front of her as she closes the door to her room behind her with a little too much force.

Paige turns her head back every-so-slightly with a pronounced eye roll, “will you please relax.”

“I would if you’d just be a little more careful,” Azzi glares, taking cautious steps as if the sound of her sneakers across the carpeted floor could potentially wake up any of the coaches.

“Azzi,” Paige says exasperatedly, “the coaches are all the way on the other end of the hallway. Besides, they're probably all sleeping.”

And despite her stubbornness, Azzi can concede that Paige has a point there. It’s nearly midnight and the game against Spain earlier in the day might have had a final score that made it seem like the USA U17 women's basketball team had won handily, but the game itself had been draining to say the least. The post-victory dinner had featured a bunch of worn out teenagers gobbling their food without much conversation and a cohort of coaches who seemed like they needed an hour of drinking followed by good night’s sleep. But even the exhaustion of the day hadn’t been enough to prevent Paige Bueckers and her diabolical mind from coming up with the idea to sneak out into the city of Minsk.

“No,” Azzi had said immediately even before the words had been spoken, that shimmering glint in Paige’s eyes a dead giveaway as she sidled up to Azzi at the salad bar.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Paige had pouted.

“You never say anything good.”

“That’s crazy. You’re so mean to me.”

“So mean,” Azzi had nodded in agreement, “so how about you go and bother someone else.”

“Azzi please. We haven’t had just Paige and Azzi time in ages. Don’t want someone else. Just want you.”

And after that well, there wasn’t really any chance of saying no. Azzi’s only fifteen and she doesn’t know that much about love, but sometimes when Paige looks at her with those earnest blue eyes and a smile that promises i’ll always be here, she thinks the way her heart starts to flutter erratically to a beat of and i wouldn’t want anyone else to stay, might just be the start of her finding out.

“See,” Paige grins triumphantly as the two girls find their way out of their hotel and onto the street, “told you we wouldn’t get caught. Shit’s just too damn easy.”

Azzi rolls her eyes at the attitude, “don’t tempt fate.”

“Fate’s got nothing in front of Paige Bueckers. I make my own fate,” Paige winks as she links her arms through Azzi.

It’s a mundane amount of contact, absolutely nothing special to it, but Azzi feels herself shiver in spite of the humidity that’s circling around them. She doesn’t quite know how it happened. One moment she was staring across the court, judging the skinny blonde practicing free throws and coming to the conclusion that she’d be no threat; the next moment said girl was next to her on the plane back from Argentina and Azzi, a self-admitted introvert, found herself rattling off about everything and nothing with this girl who seemed to have discovered the keys to all of Azzi’s locks. Hours of talking had bled into days and days had bled into months and despite the fact that facetime had taken the place of in-person conversations, the word friendship had seemed too cavalier a word to describe the relationship Paige and Azzi were building.

Paige had whittled away all of Azzi’s carefully constructed armor until she was buried deep underneath her skin and Azzi’s sure there’s no knife in the world sharp enough to carve the blonde out from where she lives underneath Azzi’s ribcage. Azzi doesn’t want anyone to try and dig her out. She thinks she might bleed out if they do.

“Az,” Paige whines, waving her free hand in the younger girl’s face, “are you even paying attention to me?”

“That depends,” Azzi hums, “are you saying anything interesting?”

“I’m always saying something interesting.”

“You’re always saying something. The interesting is subjective,” Azzi teases, laughing when Paige pouts.

“I sneak you out to give you an adventure and this is how you repay me? With insults?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her heart.

“Walking boring streets is not an adventure. Virginia has streets too.”

“It’s not about the streets, it’s about where the streets lead to,” Paige says with grave seriousness.

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “are you entering your philosopher Paige era?”

“I’d make a good philosopher,” Paige waggles her own eyebrows as they two girls find themselves entering park Pieramohi.

“Virginia has parks too, you know Paige?” Azzi says skeptically.

Paige lets out a dramatic sigh, “will you just keep walking, woman. Sometimes I wonder if you even like me?”

It’s said like a joke but there’s a hint of insecurity beaded into it that buzzes in Azzi’s ears as she wraps a careful hand around Paige’s wrist, stopping the two of them where they are.

“Hey,” she whispers softly, nudging the older girl, “you don’t ever have to wonder with me. I’m always gonna like you Paige. Even if you’re a pain in my ass half the time.”

“Had to ruin it with the last part, didn't you?” Paige complains but her eyes twinkle at the reassurance, “Just so you know I’m gonna be a pain in your ass forever.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Azzi promises as they continue strolling through the park.

The silence is peaceful and the breeze that flows around them is like a comforting hug. And Azzi thinks that she’d be okay if there wasn’t a destination for them to get to, as long as the journey came with Paige by her side.

“We’re almost there,” Paige says slowly, a slightly nervous edge to her voice.

“You sure you’re not just getting us lost-” the teasing quip dies on Azzi’s tongue as she stares at the scenery in front of her. They’re standing on the edge of a bridge overlooking a lake and it looks like something out of a disney fairytale; the picturesque image of green trees silhouetted against a magically starry night is captured perfectly on the still surface of the water that’s flowing beneath. As Azzi peers across the railing, Paige right next to her, she feels her breath hitch at the reflection that peers up at her. Because the view in front of them is beautiful but Paige’s eyes are on Azzi and she’s staring at her as if the view is nothing in comparison.

“C’mon,” the blonde says softly, lacing her fingers through Azzi’s as she tugs her along, “I have a plan.”

“There’s more?” Azzi asks in awe as Paige guides her to the gazebo in the middle of the bridge.

“Just a little bit,” Paige says and oh- that shy smile is different. Azzi doesn’t think she’s seen that one yet and she makes a mental note to herself, to memorize it and store it along with all of Paige’s other smiles that make Azzi’s insides swoop like a rollercoaster.

She watches intently as Paige begins to peruse through the purple rucksack she’d been carrying. The first thing out of it is a picnic blanket and then a horde of different snacks, all of Azzi’s favorites. Two plastic champagne glasses are next and then a sheepish grin as Paige pulls out a bottle of soda.

“Couldn’t quite risk trying to get alcohol,” Paige scratches at her neck.

“Next time maybe,” Azzi shrugs as she helps Paige set up the arrangement and she feels herself fluttering at the thought of doing this again and again and again.

“How’d you even find this place?” she asks as Paige begins to pour out the soda.

“You ever heard of googling?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at Paige’s teasing smirk, “how’d you even have time to do this?”

Paige is quiet for a second as she passes Azzi her glass, “wanted to do something special for us,” she says quietly, keeping her eyes intently on what she’s doing as she pours out a drink for herself, “wasn’t hard to find time for you.”

“You could be a poet, Paige Bueckers,” Azzi whispers and she knows it’s unfair of her but she thinks it anyway. As long as all your poems are about me.

“The poets are lucky I chose a ball instead of a pen. They’d be out of a job otherwise,” Paige says, trying to ease back into the more familiar arrogance.

“Always so humble,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes as she holds up her glass, “alright what are toasting to?”

“I came up with this whole thing. You can come up with a toast,” Paige scrunches her nose and Azzi shakes her head at it.

She thinks for a second before smiling brightly at the girl in front of her, “let’s just keep it simple and toast to us.”

“How original,” Paige teases but she clinks her glass against Azzi’s anyways, “here’s to us.”

“Here’s to us,” Azzi repeats as they both take sips of soda.

They melt into a comfortable silence, relishing in this rare moment where there isn’t a screen separating them from each other. Facetimes is a wonderful creation but a blurry screen, Azzi decides, doesn’t nearly do justice to just how damn pretty Paige is. Her hair is golden as it basks in the glow of the moon and Azzi wonders if the stars are jealous of how brilliantly the blonde’s blue eyes twinkle.

It’s Paige who speaks first, her voice hesitant, “you uh- you never asked me how my date went a couple of weeks ago.”

Azzi feels her whole body go rigid. She’d almost forgotten about Paige’s wretched date. The blonde had told her about it a couple of days before the actual event and Azzi had played the dutiful role of a best friend, teasing Paige with a light-heartedness she didn’t feel and congratulating her with an excitement that came from anywhere but from the heart. She’d purposely avoided Paige’s calls the day of the date and then two days after, coming up with some sorry excuse she no longer remembers. On the third day, when the hollow ache of i miss her voice in her chest had become too hard to ignore, Azzi had finally picked up the phone and diverted the conversation straight to a different topic. She hadn’t thought of the date since.

“Guess it slipped my mind,” she says airily, fingers gripping the edge of the picnic blanket.

“I could tell you about it now,” Paige says slowly.

I’d rather you didn’t, Azzi thinks but that’s a thought that veers a little too out of the sphere of best-friend-isms and so she simply nods her head, “y-yeah tell me about it. How was it?”

“It was nice,” Paige begins and there’s something hidden in her tone that Azzi can't quite place but she’s a little too busy sulking at the idea of Paige with anybody else to try and decipher it, “dinner was good. Took her to a movie after. That was good too.”

“That’s cool P. I’m glad- I’m glad you had fun,” Azzi says nonchalantly, gripping the glass in her hands just a little too tight.

“I didn’t.”

“What?”

“I didn’t really have that much fun,” Paige clarifies and Azzi gawks at her in confusion as the older girl fidgets with the frayed edges of the picnic blankets, “just didn’t- didn’t feel right. Don’t think she had much fun either. She never texted me after.”

“What a bitch,” Azzi bites out, suddenly irrationally angry at a girl she’d never met because how could anyone possibly not have fun with Paige, “I’m sorry P. You deserve-”

“I didn’t care that she didn’t text back-”

“Still. It’s just the decent thing to do,” Azzi rants.

“Maybe,” Paige shrugs, “but I didn’t have time to care about that. I had other things on my mind. Like the fact that you weren’t talking to me.”

Azzi flinches at the accusation, rushing out her previous defense, “I was busy.”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers.

“Paige-”

“But I get it,” the older girl says softly as she reaches for Azzi’s hand, tugging the brunette closer to her and Azzi feels something inside her erupt at how close their faces are, “I probably wouldn’t have talked to you for two days either if you went on a date with someone else.”

“Oh,” Azzi breathes out and there’s probably something more eloquent she should say but there’s this realization of maybe you feel it too that’s beginning to creep up her spine, rendering her speechless as Paige continues to stare at her like she’s mapping out all the tiniest details of Azzi’s face.

“The whole date, I kept thinking how you wouldn’t order what she ordered off the menu or that you would probably hit my hand if I tried to steal something off your plate but then give it to me anyway. And that the movie would never have been so quiet with you and we’d probably get yelled at for giggling too much and I-” Paige pauses, dragging in a deep breath, “I definitely would’ve kissed you at the end.”

A sigh of relief escapes Azzi’s lips, “you didn’t kiss her.”

“No,” Paige confirms as she drops her forehead against Azzi’s, “but I-,” the blonde gulps nervously and Azzi can’t help the way her hand reaches up to caress the blush forming on Paige’s cheeks.

“Ask me,” she whispers.

“I really want to kiss you,” Paige confesses, voice shaking slightly, “can I kiss you?”

Azzi doesn’t say anything, choosing to reply instead by pressing her lips softly against Paige’s. They move slowly at first, testing each other’s boundaries and savoring their first taste of each other. Azzi pulls the older girl onto her lap, hands firmly on Paige’s hips as the other girl clasps her own hands around Azzi’s neck. It’s a little messy and uncoordinated and Azzi thinks they might need to practice a little more to really get it right but still, it’s everything.

And Azzi just knows

She knows it then just the way she knew Tim was meant to be her dad. The way she knew Jon and José were meant to be her brothers. The way she knew she was meant to play basketball. Azzi knows that she’s meant to fall hopelessly in love with Paige Bueckers.

March 2033

There are three things Azzi should do.

Push Paige away

Tell her this a bad idea

Run the fuck away

She does none of the above.

Instead Azzi kisses Paige back.

And it’s still everything. Like the sun and moon are colliding and creating something so insanely powerful; something that feels so eternal.

There’s nothing soft or slow about it as Paige presses every inch of herself into Azzi until she can feel Paige’s heartbeat as strongly as she can feel her own. It might be impossible but she swears their hearts are talking to each other, tapping out rhythms against each other’s chests that confess all the things their owners are too scared to say. And Azzi wants nothing more than to lose herself completely in the moment because Paige’s lips feel like a drug and Azzi thinks she might just be an addict in relapse.

Except to relapse, you need to have recovered. And Azzi doesn’t think she ever fully recovered from Paige.

It isn’t until she feels her back hit the edge of a desk and the sound of something crashing onto the floor infiltrates her ears, that Azzi finally comes to her senses. She tears her lips away from Paige as the older woman groans in protest, arms tightening their hold on Azzi’s waist so she can still have some semblance of control over the situation. And really Azzi knows she’s strong enough to escape Paige’s grip, could easily fight it if she wanted to. But well, she doesn’t want to. And Azzi’s tired of doing things she doesn’t want to do.

“Paige-”

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘we can’t do this’, Azzi I swear to god I’m going to kill you,” Paige threatens, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s.

Azzi laughs softly and she can feel Paige’s whole body relax at the sound of it and like clockwork, she feels the tension beginning to release from her own muscles, “if you kill me then we definitely can’t do this.”

“I’ll revive you after or something,” Paige says with a half-smirk.

“Or something,” Azzi rolls her eyes, “but we can’t-”

“Azzi,” Paige groans.

“We can’t do this right now and definitely not here,” Azzi amends, alluding to the fact that they’re still in Steph’s office.

Paige raises an eyebrow, cocking her head slightly, “but we can do this later? Somewhere else?”

The question lingers between them as Azzi bites her lip. She knows what this is, knows that it’s Paige putting the ball in her court. A ‘no’ would likely be the end of things and that scares her more than she’s willing to admit but she’s not quite ready to commit to a ‘yes’ yet, even if that flame of desire inside of her, the one that can only be lit by Paige, is blazing hot through her veins.

“I don’t know,” Azzi says carefully, shivering at the way Paige’s thumb is rubbing circles against her waist, the flimsy material of her shirt doing nothing to prevent the goosebumps forming on her skin, “TBD.”

“That’s not a no,” Paige says carefully, hope blossoming freely on her face.

“That’s not a yes either,” Azzi warns half-heartedly.

“But it’s not a no,” Paige presses.

“No,” Azzi admits, playing with the neckline of Paige’s shirt, “it’s not a no.”

And Azzi’s so scared of the future, scared that if she lets herself burn, she’ll incinerate everyone around her but there’s something in the way Paige smiles at her words. Something that feels a lot like a promise of i’ll be the rain that washes out the fire before you can turn us to ashes.

“I can work with that,” Paige says softly, tilting Azzi’s chin up.

“So desperate to get back into my pants Bueckers,” Azzi teases and she expects a witty remark in return but instead she’s met with nothing but sincerity.

“So desperate to get back into your life,” Paige whispers, voice cracking on the last two words.

Tears prickle against Azzi’s waterline as she stares in awe at the girl in front of her. Sometimes she thinks Paige doesn’t even know that there’s a halo of goodness sitting above her head, doesn't even know just how beautiful her soul is. Paige is stunning on the outside; it’s something no one can deny. But it’s nothing compared to how gorgeous she is on the inside, nothing compared to how kind, how humble, how forgiving Paige is.

“Why?” Azzi asks, her tone rife with heaviness.

“Why what?”

“After everything, after all this time, why would you still want to be in my life?” the tears fall harder as Azzi struggles to breathe, “I- I broke your heart. I broke us. How could you possibly want that again. How could you possibly want me again?”

Paige's eyes soften as she cups Azzi’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away at the drops of water running down them, “because you’re Azzi. My Azzi. And I get it- I get that you’re not ready to be all in on this with me yet and if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not completely ready either. But we can work on it right? Take it slow and see where it goes and maybe we’ll- maybe we’ll be even better this time.”

“You think so?”

“I believe so.”

Azzi presses her lips delicately against Paige’s, reveling in the way it makes Paige’s breath hitch. She pulls away faster than she would like herself and Paige chases her lips, eyes still closed.

“What was that for,” the blonde asks, slightly dazed.

“For being my Paige.”

***

Azzi taps her foot impatiently against her wooden patio as she glances at her phone clock for the umpteenth time. Paige is almost twenty minutes late to pick her and Stephie up to go to dinner at her parent’s house. The invites had technically been separate but Paige had insisted that they needed to go together because Paige didn’t want to walk into the house alone. Azzi’s not sure why Paige is nervous to see her dad and brothers again, not when she’s pretty sure they’re bursting with excitement to see the blonde whose pictures still have a permanent place on the family photo wall, but if Paige wants Azzi by her side, well she’s not going to say no. Not anymore.

It’s been a week since they’d agreed to take things slow and Azzi’s still not quite sure what exactly that means, but she thinks she likes it. She likes being able to call Paige and not having to come up with a lame excuse for why. She likes that she and Paige can take Stephie out for ice cream after Curry Camp and they don’t have to pretend they’re only tolerating each other’s presence for the little girl’s sake. She likes that they can brush their pinkies while walking and instead of jolting away, they simply just link them together. There’s boundaries of course. No sleepovers at either of their houses. No doing anything more than kissing. No kissing in front of anyone else and definitely no kissing in front of Stephie. No doing anything in front of Stephie really. And there’s still so much mountain left to climb but as long as they’re pushing up it together, Azzi doesn’t think there’s any incline steep enough to stop her from continuing up this path.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals as Paige’s car rounds the corner into Azzi’s driveway.

Paige steps out of the car, arms wide open and ready to catch Stephie as the little girl goes tumbling down the front porch, aiming straight for the blonde. Azzi’s not an artist by any means but if she was, she thinks she could paint a thousand pictures of Stephie and her Miss Buecks. It terrifies Azzi a little bit, just how perfectly Stephie fits into Paige’s side but it calms her too because there’s a part of her that’s in love with how much they love each other.

“You’re late Bueckers,” Azzi chides as she follows her daughter’s path down the patio stairs.

Paige grins, shifting Stephie on her lap as she opens the side door to her car to pull out two bouquets of flowers

“Will these make up for it?” she asks slyly as she hands the larger one, an assortment of pink flowers, to Azzi and a slightly smaller bouquet of purple hydrangeas to Stephie.

“These are so pretty Miss Buecks,” Stephie gushes before pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek left cheek and Paige beams at the compliment, “thank you Miss Buecks.”

“You took that long to get flowers?” Azzi asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, “you’re supposed to thank someone when they give you a gift.”

“Yeah Azzi,” Paige’s eyes glimmer with mirth, “thank me like Stephie thanked me. Don’t you think Mama owes me a kiss on the cheek Steph?”

Azzi narrows her eyes at the scheming pair in front of her as Stephie nods animatedly at Paige’s question, “yeah Mama you owe Miss Buecks a kiss on the cheek.”

Shaking her head, Azzi walks over to Paige taking deliberately steady steps. Slowly Azzi leans in, puckering her lips. Paige closes her eyes and Azzi winks at Stephie who’s eyes widen.

“I’m waiting,” Paige sing-songs, a self-satisfied smirk taking over her features.

And instead of the promised kiss, Azzi licks a sloppy strip down Paige’s cheek and the blonde shrieks as both Azzi and Stephie burst into laughter.

“EW AZZI GROSS,” Paige whines, hurriedly rubbing her shirt against her cheek, “is this what you’re teaching your daughter?”

“I’m teaching my daughter not to let anyone manipulate her,” Azzi says, giving Paige a careful look, “now why were you late?”

Paige grins sheepishly as she opens the door to the backseat of the door. A lavender car seat is placed on the left side of the car and Azzi feels her heart lurch with no one’s ever cared like this.

“It’s pu-ple,” Stephie claps excitedly, “is it for me?”

“Of course it is,” Paige confirms, booping Stephie’s nose before looking at Azzi, “it’s just- we uh- we always have to take your car cause it has the car seat and moving it between cars is such a hassle. So I just thought- you know- I just thought it’d be cool- useful- practical- if I had one too? And this way if you ever need me to take Stephie off you then I uh- then you don’t have to worry about me driving. I don’t- I don’t really knows much about car seats but I looked it up online before and the person at the store agreed that this is definitely the best one- like I swear it’s safe-”

She’s cut off by the feel of Azzi’s lips pressed to her cheeks.

“Thank you Paige.”

***

Just as Azzi expected, Paige merges herself back into the Fudd family with the same ease she’d first had when she’d carved out a place for herself almost a decade and a half ago. It’s a little emotional at first when Tim opens the door, a smile almost as big as him decorating his face as he pulls Paige into a hug even before she can say a word.

“Welcome home kid,” he whispers into her blonde hair and Azzi doesn’t have to see Paige’s face to know that her best friend is blinking away tears.

Guilt surges in Azzi’s stomach and she tries to swallow away the lump of i took this from her that’s blocking her throat. It had been so simple at 15 to give Paige a part of her world; Azzi hadn’t thought twice about it. And then with the snap of her fingers, she’d taken that world away. She knows her parents had never cut Paige out; hell they’d been at her wedding to some other woman -and Azzi had pushed them to go knowing Paige would need it- but it was a far cry from what they’d been. A far cry from when Paige’s schedule was a key factor while planning Fudd family summers.

“Hey,” Stephie pouts, tiny hands crossed over her small body “I thought you always gave me the first hug Pops.”

“We’ll make an exception today,” Tim says with a wink before letting Paige walk into Katie’s arms and spinning his granddaughter around, “but you’re always gonna be my favorite.”

“I better be,” Stephie threatens and the adults around her laugh.

And finally it’s Azzi's turn to be pulled into one of her dad’s patent bear hugs. She goes willingly, always at her most warmest in the arms of the man whose blood might not run through her veins, but whose love had always protected her from the cruelties of the world.

“You look really happy today sweetheart,” Tim says softly.

Azzi’s eyes flitter over her father’s shoulder to where Jon and José are embroiling Paige in a group hug with Stephie in the middle of it, screaming about finally having their “white sister” back, as Katie and José’s fiancé Tallulah roll their eyes at the group of them, and she can’t help but smile into her dad’s shirt, “I feel pretty happy today.”

***

“You cheated,” Jon yells.

“Miss Buecks does not cheat,” Stephie yells back loyally.

“Don’t get into this Stephie. You don’t know her like we do,” José glares at Paige who narrows her eyes at him, “she’s been stealing from the bank.”

“Miss Buecks does not steal,” Stephie defends again, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck from behind as the blonde presses a quick kiss against Stephie’s temple.

“It’s okay Stephie,” Paige reassures, gently swinging the little girl into her lap, “some people are just sore losers.”

“Can’t be a sore loser because I didn’t lose-” José coughs and Jon corrects himself immediately, “because we didn’t lose.”

“Y’all let it go,” Tallulah groans, leaning her head back against the sofa, “it’s literally just monopoly. Please, I'm so tired.”

“Just monopoly? JUST MONOPOLY?” José guffaws dramatically, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who doesn’t understand that it isn’t just monopoly Tallulah. It’s about liars and cheats and honor-”

“Miss Buecks has plenty of honor,” Stephie says stubbornly, leaning her head back against Paige’s chest.

Jon rounds on Azzi, who’s been silently watching the situation, “did you help her cheat?”

“Excuse me?” Azzi asks, glaring at her brother from where she’s been comfortable reclining on the sofa. She’d opted to be the banker instead of playing, content just handing out money to the rest of them while watching the game unfold. But really she hadn’t been paying much attention to anyone else but her daughter and Paige. Stephie didn’t quite understand the rules yet and so she was always on someone’s team. It had been a given tonight, that of course she would be with Paige. And Azzi had watched, trying not to be too obvious, with a foolish grin on her face, as her two favorite people whispered to each other, Paige listening intently to all of Stephie’s ideas whether they were good or bad.

“Oh good point,” José turns to look at Azzi too, “you’re the banker, did you help Paige cheat?”

“Mama would never cheat,” Stephie argues defiantly as Azzi pushes herself up from the sofa to send a menacing look to both of her brothers.

“I’m not going to dignify that accusation with a justification,” Azzi says, standing so she’s towering over her two brothers who are still sitting on the floor, “now clean up the game. It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime.”

They might be well into their twenties and José might be taller than her now, but they’re still not quite immune to Azzi’s wrath. Tallulah and Paige snicker as the two men, sulking at each other, obey their older sister's command without another word.

“You’ve gotta teach me how you do that,” Tallulah says, hi-fiving Azzi who smirks in response.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, “what does dig-ni-fy mean?”

“Mean she’s not gonna entertain your uncles being dumba-”

“Paige!”

“Being dumbapples,” Paige corrects and both Azzi and Stephie give her an odd look at her ridiculous attempt at saving the bad word from leaving her lips.

“Alright Stephie-bean,” Azzi says, pulling her daughter off of Paige’s lap, “it’s late enough. Off to brush your teeth you go.”

Stephie looks hesitantly between the staircase leading up to the guest bedroom -where she and Azzi normally stayed- and Paige.

“Can Miss Buecks stay with us tonight?” she asks softly, one hand bunching in Paige’s shirt as she stares up at her mother with large doe eyes, “please Mama.”

“Stephie I don’t think-” Paige begins, ready to stick to the boundaries they’d laid out for themselves and really Azzi should let her; should follow her lead really.

Except the words are tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop them, “yeah she can- she can stay.”

“YAYY,” Stephie squeals, jumping into Azzi’s arms as Paige stares up at her in surprise, “thank you, thank you, thank you Mama. I’m so happy,” she swings from Azzi to Tallulah, “aunty Tully did you hear? Miss Buecks is gonna stay with us and you can make her your famous pancakes in the morning.”

“I can, can I?” Tallulah asks with a raised eyebrow as she lets Stephie and her excited chatter lead her towards the bathroom. With Jon and José both having already started towards their own rooms and Azzi’s parents fast asleep, it leaves just Paige and Azzi in the living room.

“You’re okay with me staying?” Paige asks softly, finally lifting herself from the floor and onto her feet.

Azzi scratches the back of her neck, “if- if you want to. You don’t have to. I can- I’ll explain to Stephie-”

“I want to,” Paige says, taking a cautious step towards Azzi, “but the rules?”

“This doesn’t count,” Azzi justifies and Paige smirks, taking another step towards the brunette.

“It doesn’t?”

“We said no sleeping over at each other’s places. This is my parent’s house. So technically it doesn’t count,” Azzi shrugs, trying to keep her face from breaking into a grin as Paige moves one more step closer.

“And where exactly am I sleeping?” Paige asks with a knowing grin as she loops an arm around Azzi’s waist, briefly checking to make sure no one’s around.

Azzi tilts her head, letting the grin break through, “I think Stephie would like it if you slept with us.”

“Ah well if that’s what Stephie would like,” Paige says, nodding commiseratingly.

“For Stephie’s sake,” Azzi repeats as she wraps her arm around Paige’s neck, pressing her forehead against the older girl’s and letting herself just breathe in the peace that comes with being all consumed by Paige.

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is laced with uncharacteristic vulnerability as she speaks again, “you won’t- you won’t run away again tomorrow morning will you?”

“No,” Azzi promises, gently brushing her lips against Paige’s, “I won’t run away again.”

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

335 notes · View notes

into-f0lkl0re · 3 months

Text

Paige bueckers head cannons

I’m in the writing mood idk why

not spell checked (srry)

warnings: slightly nsfw at the end

enjoy!!

———————————————————————

sfw

* definitely liked you first. i feel like caroline probably introduced you guys and she was immediately internally freaking out because you were so nice and chill and polar opposite of her

* would literally do anything to impress you like would jump really high and than turn around to make sure you saw

* for example say yall are in target to get some tru fru (cuz yk she loves her tru fru. her and kk have a serious problem god damn) and you are just pushing the cart not paying attention and she is just like “babe look babe look” “ watch this” “ are you watching??” and you finally are like yes paige and she just does a run a jump to touch something really high and then just skips back to you like “did you see that? you saw that right? I jumped so high!!!!”

* whenever she is on live with kk will just constantly talk about you to the point where everyone else is so fucking annoyed

* like kk is trying to give a crumbl review in her room (that one live) and is like “this one’s mint, i don’t like mint so im not gonna try it but ice wants some” and paige is just like “did you guys know that y/n loves mint. her favorite ice cream is mint chip and like the other day we wer-“ and you just see kk roll her eyes and groan really loudly “paige let me rate this damn cookie” and paige is just like 😧 cuz she just loves talking about you sm cuz your her baby

* during games every time she makes a basket will search for you in the audience and then smile really big

* speaking of games best believe she wants you at every single game and when you can’t go to one she is like ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

* and gives you the silent treatment ( not like literally) but she is just so pouty

* like “ babe wdym you have to study for midterms? I have a game tonight. you have to be there” if this is after she recovers from her acl injury she will be like “it’s bad luck if you don’t come. i’m gonna get hurt again” and then you end up going just to cheer her up.

* loves to play video games with you

* if you don’t like playing video games than she just wants to be in the same room as you

* very clingy and touchy especially when drunk

* gets very very pouty when y’all are cuddling and you have to get up to do something

* will follow you around like a lost puppy until you can’t sit down with her again

* if you are studying or working and can’t exactly talk to her or entertain her she will just sit next to you and watch what you are doing or play with your hair

* if you are doing something on the computer she will start braiding your hair while looking over your shoulder

* her love languages are physical touch and quality time together

nsfw

* dom like 95% of the time but loves when you take control

* like after a really hard practice or game or just a shit day in general she really just wants you to take care of her

* you guys do not have a stone top/pillow princess dynamic (sorry not sorry) ( like yk how a lot of times the mascs will get treated like men in the relationship. that is not your guys relationship) you both give

* she loves to please you but also loves being pleased

* strap ( that’s it)

* she likes using the strap on you but she loves to be eaten out or honestly sometimes a really heated make out session and she just gets off from grinding on you

* she leaves a bunch of hickies all over you (i mean every where)

* wishes you could leave hickies all over her but you can’t that often because of her basket ball uniform

* but best believe off season she is covered in them

* safe word!!! she doesn’t really do overstimulation to much because safe word is not the goal. a safe word is like an emergency stop button

* but y’all can give for a bit

* if you two ever got to a place where you had to use the safe word she would feel so bad

* like y’all wouldn’t have sex for the next couple days because she is so scared of hurting you

* it gets to the point where you have to be like “ i promise you will not hurt me what happened was a miscommunication you didn’t do anything wrong”

* y’all have a really long talk on consent and shit like that because your safety is her no.1 priority

* same goes the other way around

* just loves you smm and loves showing it in anyway she can

I hope y’all like this!! I want to write for other wbb/wnba people as well so please send in requests 🙏 of what y’all would want

i will def do more headcannons for other people as well just ask! I honestly have been having sm writing and i have a bunch of ideas in my notes app! ik the smut wasn’t very smutty (im srry) i don’t have a lot of experience writing smut but i am not against writing it so i will write more if wanted!

Big forehead kisses💕💕

-Faye

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb x reader #uconn women’s basketball #kk arnold #girl boo #paige bueckers headcannons #wlw #pride month #paige bueckers fanfiction

352 notes · View notes

barcaatthemoon · 6 months

Text

tiny prancer || alanna kennedy x reader ||

you talk to alanna about your feelings after watching her play with harper.

"higher! higher!" your eyes drifted away from the interviewer once again as you heard harper's shrill shrieks of delight. she had been devastated whenever she saw you on the pitch, but had been immediately told that you were busy by gorry. luckily, alanna had swooped right in and picked the girl up before her pout could dissolve into a fit of tears. and now, you were swooning while trying to complete your media stuff for the day.

"sorry, sorry. this has been a hard comeback, but i'm grateful for my manchester family. i'd hate to give united their props, but those girls have also been so supportive. for our rivalry to be put aside, it means a lot. i'm very thankful for so many of my fellow players in the league from teams all over the country," you said. it was a good answer, one that people could tell came from the heart.

you had been away for nearly a year after a huge injury and bigger setback. it had truly been a freak accident, your knee giving out on you and the subsequent fall breaking your leg as you fell. there hadn't been any dirty tackles, and aside from alanna, the first person who had been at your side had been a manchester united player. some of those girls had really become some of your best friends when you needed a break from your teammates.

"well, everybody is excited to see you come back on the pitch this weekend. it has been overdue, and if the practice footage from this week is anything to go by, you're definitely in top form." you thanked the interviewer for their kind words before both of you were dismissed. almost immediately, you turned and jogged over to where alanna and harper were playing.

"do you have room for one more?" you asked. as into playing with alanna harper had been, she was quick to go to you. it had been hard for you not being able to play, but still going to practices over the course of the year, and harper was a big part of that. gorry had joked that you and alanna were like her other mothers, something that had always caused alanna to tense up a bit. although, you had noticed that she had seemed more okay with the joke, occasionally having a longing look on her face for the next week or so.

"of course we do, don't we harper? we always have room for prancer, don't we?" you rolled your eyes at the nickname alanna had not-so lovingly given you back at youth camp in australia. truthfully, the two of you had legitimately hated each other a little bit back then, but both of you had done a lot of growing up since then.

"we love prancer," harper said. you knew that she had probably been working on that for a while. harper had never called you that without alanna being directly beside her. alanna nudged her side, and harper stood up to give you a hug. "do you get to play at the game?"

"i do for a little bit, so i can't sit with you on the bench at first, but they don't want to hurt me again, so i'll probably be there for the second half," you told her. harper pouted a little, but she understood. there had been several long talks about you going back on the pitch where you belonged.

harper wordlessly handed you a doll to play with, explaining much better than alanna tried to what was happening. that game didn't last very long due to alanna's antsiness. the three of you played a game of tag, which ended with alanna and harper ganging up on you. alanna picked you up in her arms, gently placing you on the ground where she peppered your face and neck in kisses while harper tickled at your sides until gorry came to get her.

"i was nervous when we got here," you admitted. alanna knew it already, but you had been stubborn in insisting that you were fine. "everybody always says they can't wait for someone else to make their return, but i know what they weren't saying."

"don't think about it like that, okay? think about other things like how harper and i kicked your ass at tag," alanna joked. you punched her in the shoulder, earning you a bite to the thigh. "be nice. if harper sees you being mean to me, she'll think it's okay. i swear that kid loves you more than anybody else sometimes."

"we've become bench buddies, that's all. i bet when we have a kid, they'll love you the most. you'll get to be the fun parents, and i'll have to be strict," you sighed. alanna shot up and stared down at you, a confused, yet hopeful look on her face. "what?"

"what did you say?" alanna asked. you shrugged as you moved up onto your elbows. "you said 'when' not 'if' we have a kid. d-do you want to have kids with me?"

"kids? someone is getting ahead of themselves, but yeah, of course i do. i've been thinking about it, and seeing you with harper confirms it. before you came along and fucked everything up for my little 14 year old self, i was going to accept a promise ring from a boy. who knows how many kids i'd have now?" you said.

"i like the idea of a bunch of little prancers running around, but only if they've got the last name kennedy," alanna said. she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips. you kissed her back, smiling into it a little. "how long have you wanted little kennedy babies?"

"alanna, don't," you tried, but it was too late. she was on something trying to get this out of you. truthfully, it had been before you were even injured, but you knew that you had been lucky then if alanna wanted to admit you were exclusively together at that point. she had fancied herself a player, something that only got worse whenever leila arrived at the club and they became friens.

"come on, i deserve to know. maybe if i've kept you waiting, i'll be sweet," alanna offered. you knew that she would be extremely sweet, but you'd have to get through the annoying phase first.

"fine, the first camp that i said we were together and harper was there. all the girls kept making fun of me because trying to tie you down was still a 'lost cause' or something," you said. alanna did the math in her head. you could tell whenever she had gotten there because a smile broke out on her face. "please don't be an ass about this, okay?"

"you thought i'd be a good parent back then?" alanna asked. you shrugged, unsure of what you had really thought. you just knew that you trusted alanna and wanted to do something special with her. "wow, maybe you really did love me back then too."

"of course i did. alanna, i've never been someone who could sleep with anybody i didn't love." you looked away from her, slightly ashamed of yourself. the girls had teased you a lot about your body count, which was the girl you made yourself fall for to forget about alanna hating you, and alanna herself. they had sort of thought you were joking, especially alanna, until you blew up at them for making fun of you.

"well then, i feel honored to be your person. and as much as i'd love to go to the doctor now and try to get you pregnant, your parents, gorry, and macca would kill me if i did," alanna pointed out. "so, what do we do?"

"let me play this season, and if things don't physically feel right in that way, we can look to starting a family sooner. we don't have to do this any other way than the one we want, remember that." you cradled alanna's face and pressed a kiss to her nose. despite the fact that you wanted a baby then and there, you were fine with waiting until alanna felt more comfortable.

#alanna kennedy x reader #alanna kennedy imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics

386 notes · View notes

help-itrappedmyself · 7 months

Text

Summoning Game Show Part 5

Masterpost

I just spent an unnecessarily long time making A Quiz so I would have questions and answers ready to go, only to not put any of them in. And spend a ridiculously long time doing math because I had to redo it like three times. Numbers are not my strong suit. In any case I now have a fully functional Jeopardy game and the next part.

~~~~~

It’s a close race. They were equal on the mountain track and neither really got sidetracked by Skulker on such a straightforward route. They made it to Zone Two almost even, but Jason almost immediately falls behind as Skulker hits him with a paintball. Being shot at shocked him more than anything, but realizing it was paint, he stopped trying to avoid it and just kept going, letting his armor deal with most of it. Skulker got bored and quickly went after Johnny instead, who got irritated and started a shouting match with Skulker as he drove. The different terrains meant they had to keep slowing down and speeding up, and Skulker got bored with the paintballs and started throwing water balloons instead. This was more annoying for the drivers because the water made the sand and mud trickier to drive on. Both Johnny and Jason both got their bikes temporarily stuck in mud and had to drag them back out while Skulker cackled above them.

Zone three allowed Jason to catch back up to Johnny. This was what he was used to and he was able to go faster with more confidence. Johnny and Jason separated after Skulker shot a net at them both. And they found each other again on a straightaway leading to the finish line. It was close at the end, but Jason managed to pull out ahead.

They shook hands at the finish line, walking back into the main room together. They separated when Johnny left to go back to the stands, followed closely by Skulker.

“Wonderful race, very intense, great driving all around.” Danny says, very entertained. “Well earned win, Jason. I’ll remind you this is what you have currently.”

“What letter would you like to guess?”

“I’ll take I.”

“Another vowel, very good.” Danny waves his hand again. “There are two I’s!

“The next challenge is trivia, which will be played by Red Robin as he is the only one who has yet to participate in a challenge.”

A new podium appears on stage as Danny’s podium rotates so the two are facing each other. Red Robin walks up to the new podium.

“ The theme is SPACE!” Danny is so excited he is practically bouncing. A jeopardy-looking game board appears on the screen. “ You have 6 categories, all space themed, they are: Earth, Other Planets, Space Numbers, Stars, Other Space Entities, and Spacecrafts! There are 9,000 possible points, you need to get at least 7,500 in order to win! The game can stop as soon as we’ve reached that number.”

Red, being Red, decides to do all the hardest questions first. He starts at the bottom left corner, gets the first question right. Tim thinks since he got the hardest one he could probably finish out the Earth category pretty easily, so he goes down the list and gets them all correct.

With 1,500 points he decides to start the next category with the hardest question as well. This is his first wrong answer. He starts going up the list, and gets the 400 incorrect for this category as well. Danny is disappointed. The rest of the boys are infinitely relieved that Tim is the one doing the trivia part. They probably would have lost already.

Tim does get the rest of the ‘Other Planets’ category correct and moves on with 2,100 points and 6,000 points left on the board. He decides to start ‘Space Numbers’ with the 100 point question and keeps going, acing the whole category. He now has 3,600 points. With 4,500 points left on the board he needs 3,900 more points. This means he can only lose 600 more points. He aces the ‘Stars” category, then moves on to ‘Other Space Entities’. He misses the last question, leaving him with 6,100 points and 1,500 left on the board. Tim can only afford to miss the 100 point question, so he decides to start at 500 and get it over with.

He continues until he reaches the 200 point question. If Tim answers this one he will win, and he does so correctly the screen changes to shoots of confetti.

#batman #danny phantom #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp crossover #alternate universe #tim drake #redrobin #jason todd #red hood #skulker #johnny 13 #space!!!#summoning game show #my writing #fanfiction

442 notes · View notes

sallowsarchives · 26 days

Text

Beneath the Battles (Final)

Part I | Part II | Part III

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Summary: You and Arthur finally face your true feelings and past grievances, breaking down the barriers that have kept you apart. Word Count: 8.8k Warnings/Tags: EXPLICIT (18+ ONLY) MINORS DNI. No use of y/n, explicit language, angst with fluff, size difference (Arthur is a big guy), oral (female receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, Arthur pulls out, a little roughness, aftercare, SMUT with plot A/N: AHHH, here’s the final part!! I’d like to formally apologize for taking so long to update, I actually ended up scrapping and rewriting it, which took longer than expected. I hope this makes up for it. Once again, thank you to those who read this story and for all your lovely comments!

Read on AO3

The mansion loomed in the distance, its imposing structure partially obscured by the dense trees and underbrush that surrounded it, its windows glimmering faintly under the moonlight, casting a soft glow on the well-kept grounds.

The night was unnervingly quiet, the kind of stillness that breeds caution. After days of scouting, the mansion was finally dark and silent, just as expected. Its owners were away traveling, leaving only a few guards to patrol the surrounding grounds.

The plan was straightforward: sneak into the mansion, locate the concealed safe, and disappear with the loot before anyone was the wiser. It seemed like a simple enough task—at least, that’s what you told yourself.

You’re crouched behind the mansion's back door, fingers deftly working through the lock. With a final click, the lock gave way, and you quickly slipped inside, closing the door behind you with practiced ease.

The air inside the mansion was heavy, filled with the scent of polished wood and aged stone. Once your eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the curtained windows, you moved swiftly through the shadowed corridors, your footsteps barely making a sound on the ornate rugs that lined the floors.

Just as you rounded the corner, you find yourself coming to a sudden halt.

A man stood before the very door leading to your prize. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and had an air of confidence that immediately put you on edge. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy trying to jimmy open the lock.

You cursed under your breath. Who the hell was this guy? And why was he here?

This man was no bumbling thief; his movements were too precise, too deliberate. Whoever he was, he knew what he was doing, and that realization sent a wave of frustration through you. If he got to the safe first, all your planning, all your risk, would be for nothing.

You stayed hidden behind a wall as you considered your options. Confronting him could blow your cover, but waiting too long could mean losing the item.

Deciding to take the upper hand, you crept closer, making sure to keep to the shadows with calculated movements to avoid detection.

Once you were close enough, you cleared your throat, the sound slicing through the stillness like a knife just as he managed to break the lock.

The sudden noise startled him, and he froze, his head snapping toward the source of the disturbance. The look of surprise and irritation on his face was fleeting, quickly replaced by a calculating stare as he took in your presence.

You took a moment to assess him. A rugged, handsome face with piercing blue-green eyes that locked onto yours, their intensity making it clear that he was not easily intimidated.

“Well, well,” you said, your voice laced with a mix of amusement and irritation. “Looks like we both had the same idea. Didn’t think I'd run into competition tonight. What’s your game, stranger?”

You kept your voice light but there was an edge to it. You had scouted this place for weeks, and you weren’t about to let some stranger steal it out from under you.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm before replying with a low Southern drawl that sent a chill down your spine.

"I reckon I oughta be askin' you that too, miss. Ain't seen you around here when I was scoutin' the place, so I guess you're after the same prize."

“Perhaps. Too bad there’s only one prize in that safe,” you said, eyeing the opened safe behind him.

He raised an eyebrow, a small, cocky smile playing on his lips. “Guess we’ll see who gets it first.”

You didn’t wait for him to make the first move.

In a flash, you darted forward, aiming to dodge him and get to the safe. But he was quick—quicker than you expected. He sidestepped your advance, grabbing your arm as you tried to slip past him.

“Not so fast, darlin’,” he said, his grip firm but not painful.

You twisted out of his hold, a breathless laugh escaping you as you spun around to face him again, eyes flashing with determination. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

Without warning, both of you drew your weapons in a swift motion, yours a knife and his a pistol. You knew you were at a disadvantage, the cold steel of his gun giving him the upper hand. But you weren’t about to back down.

A game of cat and mouse ensued, each of you circling the other, quips exchanged with a tension neither acknowledged.

You racked your thoughts for every trick you knew to try and outsmart him but in a moment of distraction, you seized your opportunity as a noise from outside drew both your attention.

He briefly looked away and you grabbed the nearest object—a heavy, decorative vase—and hurled it in his direction, your sudden movement catching his attention once more.

“Goddammit!” he swore as the vase sailed through the air.

The unexpected move caught him off guard, and he instinctively raised his arm to shield himself as the vase struck his arm, causing his pistol to slip from his grip and clatter onto the floor. The shattering noise echoed, no doubt alerting the guards outside.

You wasted no time and sprinted towards him, kicking the gun to the other side of the room. Ducking under his arm with practiced agility, you bolted toward the safe, your nimble fingers swiftly retrieving the necklace inside—a beautiful, intricate piece that promised a hefty pay.

The gleaming jewelry caught your eye, but you didn’t let your guard down. You knew he was still behind you, and the potential for danger was ever-present.

Turning around, you found him standing in place, watching you with an unreadable expression. You eyed him warily, adjusting your stance in case he made any sudden moves.

To your surprise, he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head in a gesture that seemed almost admiring.

"I'll give you that one," he said with a chuckle. "But don’t go thinkin' I’ll let ya off that easy next time."

You met his gaze steadily, with the tone in his voice, you couldn't help a smirk of your own.

“Next time?” you replied, your tone carrying a hint of challenge. “You might want to reconsider how you pick your battles.”

He tilted his head slightly, raising a brow. “Maybe,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “But where’s the fun in that?”

You smirk before taking a step back, keeping your eyes on him as you begin to make your exit.

“Until we meet again, stranger,” you said, voice cool and confident.

His smirk remained, making no move to stop you or follow as you slipped toward the shadows. Once you were sure he wasn’t making any sudden moves, you turned and made your way out.

The cool night air hits your face as you slip away into the darkness, the necklace secure in your pocket.

Weeks later, you stand before the Van Der Linde gang, newly recruited and eager to prove your worth. As Dutch wraps up your introduction with the gang members, a familiar face catches your eye amidst the crowd—leaning on a wagon, arms crossed, watching you with that same unreadable expression from the night at the mansion.

Arthur Morgan, you’ve come to know from Dutch as he introduced him as one of his most trusted men. You could see the recognition in Arthur’s eyes, and you couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto your face.

“We’ve met,” you said casually, holding his gaze, making his lips twitch, but he remains silent.

And so it was, a few months into your time with the gang, Dutch pairs the two of you together for a job. From the start, things don’t go smoothly. Arthur’s stubbornness clashes with your determination, turning every decision into a heated argument.

"You're too damn cautious," you snap as you crouch behind a rock, waiting to ambush a carriage.

"And you're too damn reckless," he retorts, his voice low but heated.

The frustration between you simmering, neither willing to back down.

Though the job was a success, it was clear that your relationship had shifted to something far more complex.

A rivalry that would become full of sharp words, stolen glances, and the kind of tension that made your heart race whenever Arthur Morgan was near.

The burning in your lungs is the first sensation that pierces through the fog.

It feels like your chest is on fire, each breath a painful struggle as your body fights to expel the water that had been forced into your lungs. You cough weakly, the sound raw and strained.

The presence of another person over you is the next thing you sense. Their hand cradling your back as the other presses gently on your cheek, their voice a low, comforting murmur that reaches through the haze of pain.

“C’mon, easy now,” a deep voice rang out, soothing but urgent. “Breathe slow. Just breathe.”

As the pain in your chest begins to ease, you slowly become more aware of your surroundings. The rough ground beneath you feels gritty, the chill in the air seeps through your wet clothes, which cling uncomfortably to your damp skin. A persistent throbbing in your temple adds to the disorienting discomfort.

As your sight finally focuses, you see Arthur standing over you, his rugged features marked by concern and relief. His hair was wet and tousled, with a few strands clinging to his forehead, and his face was streaked with water and mud.

“You alright?” His voice is softer now, though it still carries a note of urgency.

You try to speak, but your voice comes out as a faint, hoarse whisper. Attempting to sit up, you slump back into his arms, completely drained.

Arthur’s hand remains steady, his hand continuing to support you from your back.“Just take it easy, darlin’,” he insists. “We gotta get that nasty cut of yours fixed up.”

After a moment, he speaks up again. "You scared the hell outta me, you know that?" he says, his tone softer than you expected. Confusion flickers in your eyes as you try to make sense of his reaction.

Arthur quickly brushes it off with a shrug and a quick, dismissive smile. "You good to stand? We need to find a place to camp."

Though slightly dazed, you nod and he begins helping you to your feet, his grip firm but gentle and begins to lead the way.

You take a chance to glance over at the river, your heart sinking. "There goes everything," you mutter, as you thought of all the loot from the stagecoach robbery now lost in those dark waters, swept away without a trace.

Arthur’s eyes follow your gaze. “Yeah, things went south real quick. Can’t say I’m surprised, though. Ain’t never gone smooth with us.”

A weary sigh escapes you. Arthur gives your shoulder a small squeeze, his voice softening.

“We’ll figure out another way to make it up so we don’t come back empty-handed.”

As you and Arthur push through the thick underbrush, the sun has long set, leaving the sky almost entirely dark and providing scant light. The air is growing colder, and the fatigue from the ordeal is beginning to weigh heavily.

After a while, Arthur spots a faint outline against the darkening sky. "There," he says, pointing toward the silhouette of a structure hidden among the trees.

You squint and make out the shape of an old, dilapidated cabin. Its roof is partially caved in, and the wooden walls weathered. Still, it seems like a decent refuge for the night.

Arthur leads the both of you towards it, his steps careful as he surveys the area for any signs of danger. He pushes open the creaky door with a grunt, revealing a dusty, cobweb-covered interior. The air inside is stale, but it’s dry and shielded from the elements.

"Looks like this’ll do for tonight," Arthur says, stepping inside and looking around.

The main room contains a few pieces of furniture: a worn-out sofa, a small wooden table, and a couple of chairs. There’s a door on the left, which you assume leads to a bedroom.

A stone fireplace stands against one wall, its hearth empty but still looking functional. To the right, you notice a small kitchen area with cabinets lining the wall, hinting at a space used for simple meals.

Arthur moves with practiced caution, his eyes scanning the room as he checks for any signs of danger. He pauses, pulling his pistol from its holster. It seems he managed to keep hold of his weapon and satchel during your fall into the water—an unexpected stroke of luck.

Once he’s satisfied that the area is clear and no immediate threat is apparent, he nods and holsters the gun.

“Alright, let’s settle in,” he says, guiding you to a nearby chair. “I’ll get a fire going and check for any supplies. You just sit tight and rest.”

You nod, gratefully sinking into the chair. As Arthur moves around the house, you take a moment to let the exhaustion wash over you.

You hadn’t noticed the several minutes that had passed by where Arthur managed to set up a fire with the dried wood he had found stacked by the fireplace, the flickering flames casting a warm glow over the room.

He turns his attention back to you, a determined look on his face and retrieves a cloth from his satchel, pouring a generous amount of whiskey over it that he must have found when rummaging through the cabinets.

He takes a seat across from you, gaze steady and focused as he carefully examines the gash near your temple.

“This might sting a bit,” he says softly, his voice carrying a reassuring calm. Gently, he dabs the cloth against the cut, the wound stinging from the contact.

Arthur’s movements are careful and deliberate, his brow furrowed in concentration. As he works, his eyes occasionally meet yours, a mix of concern and resolve evident in his expression.

You watch him closely, the intensity in his expression a stark contrast to the usual deflective bravado he shows, a rare glimpse of the softer side of him that you don’t often see.

After finishing with your wound, Arthur sets the cloth aside and glances at the both of you, noting the dampness of your clothes.

“We’d best find us some dry clothes; ain't no good in keepin' us warm when we're soaked to the bone.”

You respond with a nod, feeling slightly uncomfortable from the wet garments clinging tightly to your skin.

He stands up and motions you to follow, moving towards the door on the left you saw earlier. Inside, the room is dimly lit by the fading light seeping through the grime-streaked windows. Old, moth-eaten drapes hang limply from their rods, and the floorboards creak with each step.

There was a rickety, sagging bed with a threadbare quilt, and a lone wooden chest pushed against the wall. You follow behind him, noticing the layer of dust that covers everything, marking the years of abandonment.

He heads to a chest, prying it open with a groan as the hinges protest, and begins rummaging through the contents.

As he searches for dry clothes, you start to remove some of your damp garments feeling the need to get more comfortable and ease the weight.

You’re in the process of slipping off your soaked shirt when Arthur turns around, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you in your soaked white chemise, and he quickly averts his gaze, his face flushing a deep red.

“Uh—here,” he stammers, his voice suddenly unsteady as he holds out a faded long brown skirt and a low-necked cotton blouse. “Found these. They should fit.” He glances away, clearly flustered.

Seizing the opportunity, you smirk and tease. “What’s the matter, Arthur? Never seen a woman in her underclothes before? I thought you were used to all sorts of rough and tumble.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, his face turning redder, and he clears his throat, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. “Even after gettin' yourself all banged up, you still can’t help but run that smart mouth of yours,” he retorts, trying to mask his embarrassment with a touch of irritation.

You chuckle at his flustered response, enjoying the rare sight of him so off-balance before taking the clothes from him.

Arthur shifts uncomfortably, casting furtive glances as he takes a change of clothes for himself. He clears his throat again, his usual confidence momentarily eclipsed by awkwardness.

“I’ll, uh, just be outside if you need anything,” he mutters, leaving the room with a hasty step to give you your privacy.

The door creaks as he pulls it shut, and you can hear him mumbling to himself as he closes it behind him. His grumbling is low and unintelligible, but it brings a faint, amused smile to your lips. You chuckle silently before turning your attention to the garments.

Moments later, you find Arthur standing by the window, now dressed in a fresh set of clothes—worn jeans and a plain gray button up. His silhouette is outlined against the darkness outside. The fire crackles softly in the hearth, its warmth beginning to chase away the chill.

Arthur turns to you, his expression more relaxed now that he's shed his previous discomfort. “Feeling a bit better?”

You nod. “Yeah, much better. You?”

Arthur gives a small, awkward smile. “I’ll be just fine. Just need to take it easy and let the warmth do its work.” He gestures toward the fire. “Might as well make ourselves comfortable while we can.”

You nod and make your way to sit at the worn out sofa to warm up by the fireplace. After a comfortable silence you finally speak up, your voice soft with gratitude.

“Thanks for everything, Arthur. I know it’s been a rough day, but I really appreciate you taking care of me.”

Arthur turns to you and nods, his usual gruffness softened by the warmth of the fire and the genuine moment between you. “Don’t mention it. Just doing what needs to be done.”

As the silence settles again, Arthur clears his throat and shifts slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Speaking of rough days… reckon I oughta say somethin’ about that night at the, uh, well, what happened at the Mayor’s party,” he begins, his tone a bit hesitant.

You fold your arms, feeling uncomfortable about bringing it up again, but you know you’ve both put off addressing the issue long enough. You nod, signaling for him to continue.

Arthur looks away for a moment, clearly struggling with how to frame his words.

“I didn’t mean to make it seem like what happened between us didn’t matter. I guess I thought it’d be better to just… keep things simple and avoid complicatin’ things.”

Your eyes narrow and you let out a sigh. “You already said that but I still don’t know what you mean. If you don’t have anything new to add, then yes, I guess that’s all it was—just a fleeting moment to pass the time while we were stuck in that situation.”

“Godammit, it ain’t like that,” he says, his voice firm but tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

You glare at him, standing up as your anger and frustration begin to boil over. “Then what, Arthur? I’m done with the guessing games. If you can’t be honest with me, then at least stop pretending you care.”

“Oh, is that so? What do you want me to say, huh? That I’ve been usin’ you? That I don’t give a damn? You think that’s gonna make things better?”

“I’m not askin’ you to lay it all out. I’m askin’ you to quit actin’ like none of this means a damn thing. You’re scared to face the truth, and it’s obvious. If you’ve got something to say, then say it.”

Arthur steps closer, his voice dropping to a low growl. “You don’t know a damn thing about what’s goin’ on with me.”

You meet his gaze, your anger unwavering despite the intensity of his look. “Then why don’t you stop hiding behind your excuses and show me what’s real for once? Or are you too scared to face it yourself?”

His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing as the silence grows heavy between the two of you. You take a deep breath before continuing, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady. “Everything that happened at that party… it wasn’t just part of the act, was it?”

He looks away, eyes fixed on the ground as his expression hardens. “I was doin’ what we had to,” he says, his voice gruff. “We were pretendin’—had to make it look real.”

“That’s a goddamn lie and you know it,” you retorted. “Everything you did that night, kissing me like it meant something just to suddenly pull away and act like I was something you regretted. Do you have any idea how that felt, Arthur? How it made me feel?”

He flinched at your words, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “You don’t understand—”

“Then help me understand! You shut me out, you push me away, and I’m done pretending like it doesn’t hurt.”

Arthur looked at you then, really looked at you, and you saw the pain in his eyes, the conflict warring within him.

Your words hang in the air, and for a moment, you thought he might continue ignoring you, that he’d keep his distance just as he always did. But when his eyes met yours again, there was something raw and unguarded in them that made your heart twist before he spoke, voice filled with a vulnerability you had never seen in him before.

“That night at the party, when I told you it meant nothing and pushed you away—it wasn’t because I didn’t care, but because I did. I didn’t want you seein’ me as more than just part of this damned life I’ve led.”

“Have you not thought that I’m already a part of this life too? I’m not some innocent bystander in this, Arthur. I’m in it just as much as you are, fighting beside you, continuing to risk everything for the gang. Every time you push me away, it feels like you’re saying I don’t belong, that I’m not worthy of being part of this.”

Arthur’s face softened with regret. “I’m sorry if it came across that way. I’ve just been tryin’ to protect you in my own messed-up way. I don’t want you feelin’ like you’re not part of this, ‘cause you are. More than you know.”

You looked at him, searching for honesty in his eyes. “Then be honest with me, Arthur. Don’t shut me out. I need to know where we stand.”

“I ain’t good enough for you,” he confessed, the words coming out like a reluctant admission. “I’ve done things—bad things. And I know you’ve seen some of it, but you don’t know the half of it. You deserve better than some outlaw who’s spent his life takin’ more than he’s given.”

The silence that followed was thick with emotion, as you both tried to come to terms with the weight of his confession. The barriers between you seemed to dissolve, leaving only the truth of your feelings and the painful realities of the life you both led.

You stared at him, the anger long dissipated from you as his words sank in. This was it—this was what had been driving him to keep you at arm’s length, to push you away whenever you got too close. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel the same way you did; it was that he didn’t think he was worthy of it.

“Arthur,” you said quietly, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you, “I don’t care about what you’ve done, or who you think you are. I care about you. The man who saved me today, who risked everything to make sure I was safe. The man who gives more to the gang than he ever takes for himself—that’s the man I see.”

He shook his head, his expression tortured. “You ain’t seen the worst of me yet.”

“And I don’t care if I do,” you shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about you, or what I’m willing to accept. I’ve made my choice, Arthur. I’m not turning back.”

He stared at you, his defenses crumbling as the truth of your words hit him. He’d spent so long believing he didn’t deserve anything good, that any softness or kindness was something he had to push away before it could be taken from him. Hell, that’s why it never worked out with Mary, too.

But here you were, standing in front of him, refusing to let him go, even after everything he’d done to keep you at a distance.

He leaned in closer, his free hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch lingering as if he couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

“I don’t know if I can be the man you deserve,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You crack a small smile, your voice laced with a sarcastic edge but softened by the warmth in your eyes.

“Come on, Arthur. Since when did you become an expert in what I deserve? I’ve been putting up with your brooding for far too long to be picky about the details.”

Arthur’s lips curled into a wry smile as he listened to your response. Despite the gravity of the moment, there was a glimmer of amusement and admiration in his eyes.

“You know,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of his old charm, “you’ve been a right pain in my ass since day one. Guess that’s why it’s so damn complicated with us. But, damn it, you’re still the only one who can make me see the bright side of this mess.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a challenging look.

“Oh, is that your way of saying I’m the best you’ve got? How flattering.”

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head. “Maybe more than you know. You’ve got a knack for makin’ everything seem less bleak, even when you’re makin’ my life hell.”

After a silent moment, Arthur reaches out, his thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw which sends shivers down your spine.

“I’ve been a damn fool,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, “for fightin’ this… for fightin’ you.”

Your heart ached at his words, at the honesty you had never expected from him.

You had always seen him as a man of few words, someone who hid his true self behind a wall of sarcasm and indifference. But now, as he stood in front of you, you saw the truth in his eyes—the feelings he had tried so hard to deny.

Before you could respond, Arthur closed the distance between you, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both fierce and tender.

The kiss was a heady mix of passion and urgency, a kiss full of the unresolved tension and undeniable attraction that had been building between you.

As the kiss deepens, you feel Arthur’s hand move to tangle in your hair, his fingers gently gripping the strands as he kisses you harder, his body pressing hard against yours.

You respond with equal fervor, your hands fisting in his shirt and pulling him closer before you both pull away for air, breaths labored with his chest rising and falling against yours.

Arthur nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. He begins to trail soft kisses along your neck, his lips barely grazing your skin as his voice drops to a whisper, full of longing and relief.

“Been powerless against you since the moment you joined the gang. Reckon it all started that night at the mansion when we were both after the same prize.”

A low hum escapes him as your fingers thread through his hair, your touch sending shivers down his spine. He nuzzles further into your neck as he continues to mumble against your skin.

“Wanted you so bad, and damn if that don’t scare the absolute life out of me.”

Arthur continues to kiss your neck, his lips moving down to your shoulder as his hands tighten their grip on your hips. The intensity of his touch grows as he pulls you even closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours, enveloping you in a wave of warmth and desire.

You lean in closer, your lips grazing the shell of his ear as you whisper, your voice trembling with the same urgency that you hear in his. “Then stop holding back, Arthur. I want you.”

Your words seem to break whatever last bit of restraint he was clinging to. He lets out a low growl, and before you can even take another breath, his lips crash against yours once more, all fire and desperation. It’s a kiss that sears through you leaving no room for doubt.

Without breaking the kiss, he nudges you back until you feel the edge of the table pressing against the backs of your thighs. In one fluid motion, Arthur’s hands slip from your hips to your waist, lifting you just enough to set you down on the table's surface.

He steps closer, sliding between your legs as his hands grip your hips possessively. You felt his hips pressing insistently against your core, the contact electrifying and intense.

He was achingly hard, a burning pressure that felt almost unbearable through the fabric of your clothes. The heat radiating from him was overwhelming, every shift of his body against yours sending waves of sensation coursing through you.

His hands, rough and calloused from years of hard living, left your waist and slipped under your shirt to savor the softness of your skin. His skilled fingers traced over your ribs before reaching your breasts.

You've never been so glad to not be wearing your chemise underneath your clothes.

You inhaled sharply as he took one of your nipples between his fingers and pinched. "So responsive." Arthur murmurs against your mouth before pulling away and breaking the kiss. You chance a glance at his face, his eyes dark with hunger.

With deliberate slowness, his hands begin their descent, gliding down to your calves, his fingers tracing the curve of your legs.

He caresses your skin, almost reverently, before sliding up to the hem of your skirt. You shiver at the sensation as he pushes the fabric higher, gathering it around your waist, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Arthur’s eyes drink in the sight of you, his gaze heavy with desire. His hands, still lingering on the edge of your skirt, begin to trail slowly up your thighs, his touch careful and teasing.

He pauses just as his fingers brush against the most sensitive part of your skin, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, dark and questioning.

He’s waiting, holding back, as if needing your permission to go further. He doesn't move, his touch achingly close yet frustratingly distant.

"Arthur…" you plead, your voice edged with frustration.

He meets your gaze, lips twitch up in a slight smirk as his eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and challenge. "You can do better than that, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

You scowl, making him smirk wider, the pressure making your frustration boil over. "Arthur, just—"

His fingers remain tantalizingly still, his eyes locked onto yours with a challenging gleam. The irritation fuels your desperation, and you let out a shaky breath, finally conceding.

"Arthur... please, I need you. I can’t stand it anymore," you say, your voice softened by surrender, the depth of your need evident.

Arthur’s lips curl into a satisfied grin as he hears your plea. He hums with approval and without another word, you watch as he leans down, his mouth finding your core with a fervent intensity, enveloping you in a warm, consuming embrace.

You gasped out as pleasure rippled through you, his name tumbling from your lips. Your fingers fly down to his hair, clenching at the strands and pull him closer as you surrender to the waves of sensation that crash over you.

He groans against you, his lips teasing the sensitive bud before his tongue moves with deliberate, savoring strokes, licking up your wetness. The taste of you lingers, smearing over his lips and dripping down his chin.

You feel his hand move between your thighs, his touch igniting another wave of pleasure as his thumb gently grazes your clit. The added sensation heightens your arousal, making your breath come in short, gasping bursts.

Without warning, he slips one of his fingers inside you, the sensation sending a jolt of intense pleasure through you.

He moves with practiced ease, curling and thrusting as he builds a rhythm that makes you gasp and moan. Each movement is designed to amplify the pleasure he's already delivering, his touch skillfully coaxing you closer to the edge.

“Oh God—Arthur!”

His hands pick up the pace, moving faster and with more pressure, targeting that one sensitive spot inside you while his mouth continues to work on your delicate bud. You tighten around his fingers, feeling your legs start to tremble.

You were at the height of your pleasure, your climax so near it felt like you might explode at any moment. Arthur seems to sense it too, his movements expertly bringing you to the brink.

But just as you're about to come, he abruptly pulls away, smirking down at you. You let out a frustrated whine, your body still trembling from the near climax.

"Why—" you gasp, eyes pleading as you look up at him, your voice a mix of annoyance and need. The sudden halt only intensifies your frustration, making your desire for release even more unbearable.

Arthur leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Don’t worry, darlin’, I ain’t finished yet," he murmurs, his voice a low, gritty whisper. "Wanna feel you wrapped around me when you come."

With a firm, decisive moment, his hands wrap beneath your bum, lifting you effortlessly. He carries you toward the worn couch, his strength palpable as he places you gently but firmly onto the cushions before positioning himself above you, his gaze never leaving yours.

Arthur’s hands move to unbutton his jeans with a practiced ease before shedding them, revealing his lengthy member, its impressive size immediately drawing your wide-eyed attention.

You can’t help but stare, your eyes widening with a mix of awe and anticipation as you take in the full extent of his arousal. The sight of him, so well-endowed and commanding, sends a thrill of excitement through you, and your breath catches in your throat.

Arthur notices your reaction, a grin curling on his lips. He moves closer, his hands firmly cupping your face as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, capturing your lips in a deep, urgent kiss.

While his mouth claims yours, his hands move with purpose, deftly working to remove your blouse. You respond eagerly, your hands sliding over his chest and working at the buttons of his shirt until it falls away.

The two of you move with a synchrony of urgency and passion, shedding the rest of your clothes with a desperate need. Each article of clothing is discarded in a flurry of movement, leaving you both bare.

Arthur pauses, his eyes dark and intense as they roam over your bare form with a feral hunger. A low growl escapes his throat, his eyes gleaming with a primal desire.

“Shit,” he rasps, his voice rough and throaty. “Can’t believe I held myself back for so long.” His gaze lingers on you, filled with a raw, unrestrained hunger, as he savors the sight of you completely bare before him.

He wraps your legs around his hips, drawing you closer as he positions himself between you. With one hand gripping himself and the other steadying your leg, he lines himself up, his breath coming in ragged bursts as he looks down at you.

“You ready for this?”

You nod, your eyes locked onto his, filled with a mix of eagerness and anticipation. “Please, Arthur,” you reply, your voice trembling slightly. “I want you.”

Arthur’s lips curl into a fierce, satisfied smile before pressing himself against you and slowly begins to enter you, his gaze never leaving your face as a gasp escapes your lips, your body tensing with the intense sensation.

You arch against him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you adjust to his size. The stretch and pressure of him inside you sends a wave of pleasure through you, your eyes fluttering closed momentarily as you moan out his name.

He growls in response, his face contorted with both pleasure and concentration. “Goddamn you’re so tight.”

His hands tighten on your hips, grip firm and possessive as waits for you to adjust around him. After a moment, you grip his shoulders tighter, your nails digging in as you try to steady yourself.

“Arthur,” you murmur, struggling to control your breath. “I need you to move.”

“You sure, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice dripping with raw desire. His eyes search yours for a sign of hesitation but find only eager need.

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice trembling with urgency. “Please.”

With a satisfied nod, Arthur begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, each one bringing a wave of pleasure that makes your body tremble.

As he finds a rhythm, his movements become more intense and fervent, his eyes never leaving your face. His breathing grows heavier, matching the pace of his thrusts as he drives deeper into you.

“Arthur, please…faster.”

He meets your gaze and with a firm grip, he pushes your leg further back against you, angling himself deeper.

You gasp at the shift, your body arching and gripping him tighter as waves of pleasure crash over you. Each thrust sends a jolt of ecstasy through you, your breaths coming in quick, sharp bursts as you lose yourself in the mounting sensation.

His thrusts become more urgent, each movement sending a jolt of ecstasy through you. “That’s it,” he murmurs between breaths, “let me hear you, sweetheart.”

You moan in response, the sound escaping in a breathless gasp as his relentless pace overwhelms you, crying out his name as your voice trembles with pleasure.

Arthur’s eyes darken with desire, and he groans deeply. He takes your face in his hand, his thumb tracing the outline of your lips. his gaze intently fixed on you, taking in every reaction, every flush of pleasure, driving him wild.

He can’t help but be captivated by the way you look at him, your gaze locking onto his with a mix of urgency and raw longing.

He’s not going to last long. Not when you look at him like that.

Arthur pushes your leg further back, nearly folding you in half as his thrusts become rougher and more intense, driving into you with a forceful rhythm. Each thrust relentlessly hits the spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You feel yourself tighten around him, eliciting a deep groan from him.

His hand slips between your bodies, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at your core and begins to apply a firm, rhythmic pressure, his touch syncing with the hard, relentless pace of his thrusts.

“Arthur,” you moan, your voice a mixture of desperation and bliss.

Arthur grits his teeth, the effort to maintain control clear on his face. “Come on, sweetheart, let go for me… Wanna feel ya,” he growls, his voice thick with desire and urgency.

The combined stimulation of his touch and his relentless thrusting pushes you toward the edge, your body quaking as the waves of pleasure crest and crash over you. His words, laced with raw need, tip you over that edge, breaking the last of your control.

You let go completely, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure as you tremble and gasp in his grasp, your body responding to his every command.

“That’s it,” Arthur growls, his voice rough with pleasure. “Good girl. Feels so good squeezing around me… there we go.”

He moves his hands to your hips, his own breathing ragged as he feels you tighten and convulse around him. He continues to drive into you through the waves of pleasure, his thrusts becoming even more urgent and relentless. You cry out, the sensation overwhelming.

Finally, with a groan of his own, he thrusts deep one last time before pulling out, taking his length into his hand. His body shudders, breath coming in rough, uneven gasps as he finds his release, spilling onto your stomach as the tension finally breaks.

He collapses onto you, his breath ragged and heavy, both of you trying to catch your breaths. After a while, you gently pat him, feeling the weight of him pressing down on you, and he lets out a breathy chuckle, his eyes half-lidded with contentment.

Arthur stands up and grabs the shirt he was wearing, using it to wipe the evidence of his release from your stomach and his. His touch is tender despite the intensity of the moment.

Once he’s finished, he lays back down beside you, pulling you into his arms. With a gentle but firm motion, he adjusts to create enough room for both of you on the worn couch.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you settle against him, the warmth of his body providing a soothing contrast to the earlier intensity.

“You alright there?” he asks, his voice soft and slightly teasing as he runs a hand soothingly along your arm.

You nod, your head resting against his shoulder, feeling a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you reply, your voice a bit breathless. “Just needed a moment.”

Arthur chuckles softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Can’t say I’m sorry we didn’t do this sooner,” he murmurs, his tone filled with genuine warmth.

You smile, your eyes closing as you let yourself relax into his embrace. “Me neither,” you whisper, feeling the comfort of his presence. “Guess it’s a good thing we finally did.”

A comfortable silence envelops you both, the warmth of the fire crackling softly in the background. As you settle into the quiet, the room is filled with a tranquil intimacy.

The gentle heat from the fire and the flickering light cast a soft glow over your resting forms, guiding you both into a peaceful rest.

The next morning, the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the curtains gently warms your face, coaxing you awake from your slumber.

You blink, slightly disoriented, and notice a quilt draped over you—a cozy, unexpected comfort that you don’t remember covering yourself with.

You stretch out and sit up, searching for Arthur, but find that he’s no longer beside you. The space next to you is empty, leaving only the lingering warmth of his presence and the faint scent of him in the air.

You wrap the quilt around you before making your way to the bedroom, where you begin to get dressed in your now-dry clothes.

As you finish getting dressed, you head outside, still wondering where Arthur could be. Opening the front door, you’re startled to find him now dressed in his own clothes and standing with both your horses.

He’s feeding his horse calmly, the sight of the horses safe and sound, along with Arthur’s relaxed demeanor, fills you with a mix of relief and surprise.

He looks up, catching your gaze with a casual, knowing smile, clearly at ease despite the unexpected circumstances.

“Mornin’, sorry I didn’t want to wake ya,” he says, his voice warm and relaxed.

You blink, still processing the sight before you. “Wait, how did you find the horses? They ran off during that chase,” you ask, your voice filled with surprise and confusion.

Arthur grins, a touch of pride in his eyes. “Managed to track ’em down this mornin’. They’d wandered off a ways but were easy enough to follow. Took a bit of patience, but I got ’em back here safe and sound.” He pats one of the horses affectionately.

You let out a relieved laugh, shaking your head in amazement. “Well, I’m definitely grateful. I wasn’t sure how we’d get them back.

Arthur gives you a casual nod, his eyes still carrying a hint of satisfaction. “We should probably think about getting back to camp soon. Can’t say Dutch’ll be too happy about us comin’ back empty-handed.”

You frown slightly, your mind starting to turn over the implications. “Yeah, he might not be too pleased about that.”

Suddenly, something clicks in your mind, your expression brightening with realization. You make your way to your horse, patting her affectionately as you reach her.

You move to the saddlebag and start fishing around inside before pulling out a small pouch. Arthur watches you with curiosity as you open it, revealing the jewelry you had remembered stuffing inside. With a proud smile, you show it to Arthur, the glint of the gems catching the light.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Well… that’s a nice surprise. Turns out we’re not comin’ back empty-handed after all.”

He glances at the jewelry, then back at you. “Good thinking.”

You tuck the pouch back into the saddlebag, feeling a surge of relief. “At least we’ve got something to make up for the trouble.”

Arthur shifts, his expression turning serious. “Listen, uh… everything I said last night—I meant it. I care about you, you know.”

You look at him, a soft smile forming on your lips. “I know.”

He pulls you close, and you share a tender kiss, the warmth and reassurance evident in the moment. When you pull away, you give him a playful nudge. “Now, let’s get back to camp.”

Arthur grins, nodding as he mounts his horse. “Lead the way.”

After a few hours of steady travel, you finally crest through the dense woods and emerge into the open area of Shady Belle.

As you draw closer, you hear John’s voice call out from his post. “Who’s there?”

Arthur raises a hand in greeting, his tone slightly exasperated. “It’s just us two, you idiot.”

John approaches with a grin, clearly relieved to see familiar faces. “Well, well, look who’s back! Didn’t think you’d make it this time.”

His gaze shifts to you, and he notices the cut on your forehead. “What happened there?” he asks, his tone shifting to one of concern.

“It’s nothing, just a little mishap,” you reply with a shrug and a small reassuring smile.

John nods, still eyeing the cut with a concerned look. Before he can respond, the sound of Dutch’s voice cuts through the air.

“There they are!” Dutch strides forward with Hosea, catching the attention of the other gang members. The atmosphere shifts to one of eager anticipation as they approach to welcome you both back.

Arthur and you quickly hitch your horses, and Dutch’s eyes light up with a mix of relief and curiosity.

“You two look like you’ve had quite the adventure,” he says with a grin. “Let’s hear what you’ve got for us.”

You and Arthur follow Dutch and Hosea inside the house, nodding to the other members who offer warm welcomes at your arrival.

Once inside, the four of you make your way outside to the terrace to discuss the details. The afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the camp, and you all settle into a comfortable spot.

Hosea’s eyes shift to the cut on your forehead. “You alright?” he asks, his tone filled with concern.

You give a small nod, trying to brush off the worry. “I’ll be alright. Can’t say about the coach, though.”

Hosea raises an eyebrow, his expression turning thoughtful. “The coach, huh? Did something go wrong?”

“The job went well initially. Arthur and I got what we needed, but then things went sideways on the way back.”

Arthur picks up the story, his voice steady. “We ran into trouble. More guards came in hot on our heels, forcing us into some rough terrain. Lost the coach, and then we ended up falling into a river with it.”

You chime in, “The river swept the coach away, taking all the loot with it. We couldn’t salvage anything.”

Dutch’s expression falls. “So, you lost it all?”

Arthur nods, looking apologetic. “Yeah. We couldn’t recover the goods.”

Dutch’s face reflects a mix of disappointment and frustration. “Well, that’s a shame. We coulda used that haul. Least you two are alright, though.”

Hosea tries to lighten the mood. “We’ll bounce back from this. The important thing is that you made it back safely. We’ll sort out the rest.”

Arthur reaches into his satchel and pulls out the small pouch of jewelry from you and a few clipped bundles of cash. He holds them up with a faint, reassuring smile.

“Well, we didn’t lose everything. Reckon this might help make up for it.”

Arthur hands Hosea the pouch, and Hosea inspects its contents. “With this and the cash we got, I’d say we’re lookin’ at around 800. That should help us get back on our feet.”

Dutch’s eyes light up with relief as he takes in the sight of the recovered items. “Well, that’s a right bit of luck in the middle of all this mess. Better than nothin’.”

Arthur nods, looking somewhat relieved. “Didn’t want to come back here and leave y’all thinkin’ we came up empty.”

Dutch claps Arthur on the shoulder, his mood lifting a bit. “Appreciate that. Let’s get this sorted and move on. We’ve got plenty of work ahead of us.”

Hosea looks over at you and Arthur with a nod of approval. “I gotta hand it to you both. Despite the rough patch, you came through. Good work out there.”

With that, Dutch and Hosea start discussing plans to distribute the recovered items and strategize the next steps.

Over the next few days, the gang once again begins to notice something distinctly different about you and Arthur.

It’s not just the absence of shouting and tension, but a new, subtle intimacy that marks a significant shift in how you interact. While the first change was notable, this time it's even more pronounced.

Although you and Arthur have kept your more intimate moments away from the prying eyes of the gang, there’s a palpable difference in the way you connect.

You’re often seen sharing quiet conversations, laughing together, and engaging in playful banter, with soft touches and exchanged smiles now part of your interactions. The closeness between you is evident, and it piques the gang’s curiosity once more.

Speculation runs rife among the camp members about the nature of your evolving relationship. They observe the affectionate gestures and tender glances, each theory more imaginative than the last.

Despite the growing curiosity, you and Arthur continue to maintain your privacy. When questioned or approached, you both respond with a mix of amused indifference and casual deflection.

You shrug off the gossip with lighthearted comments or evasive answers, enjoying the newfound closeness while keeping the details of your relationship to yourselves.

On this particular day, while you were engaged in a chore, you overheard Arthur speaking to Dutch, asking why he kept pairing the two of you together despite your apparent dislike for each other.

You glance over from your place, noting how Dutch seems genuinely puzzled by the question.

“It wasn’t really my call,” Dutch says with a shrug. “That was all Hosea’s idea. I didn’t rightly agree with him and don’t know why the hell he was so insistent or thought it was a good idea, but I just went along with it.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Both your attention shifts to Hosea, who is currently sitting nearby, absorbed in reading a newspaper.

Despite his apparent focus on the paper, you notice a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t look up or acknowledge you both, but his expression clearly suggests he’s pleased with the outcome of his decision.

The revelation leaves you and Arthur with a mix of emotions, but the smirk on Hosea’s face makes it clear that he knew exactly what he was doing.

178 notes · View notes

sydnikov · 1 year

Text

Jersey || J. Hughes

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Jack Hughes/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: You and Jack got into a fight before he left for a game. To get back at him, you showed up at the bar you knew the Devils frequented after they won a game wearing the other team’s jersey. Only, a fan of said-team’s jersey gets a little too handsy, and even when fighting, Jack won’t stand for another man touching his girl.

Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption, touching w/out consent, mild and/or potential assault, kissing, mild angst, lots of fluff at the end

A/N: This is purely self-indulgent… Though I am a little nervous because I’ve never been a Jack Hughes girlie until recently, plus before my beloved hurricanes eliminated the devils I was battling my growing hatred for him LMAO but, anyways, I still have never written for him before, so lemme know what y’all think about this one... Happy reading <3

“Are you done yet?” Jack Hughes said as he raced around the apartment looking for his bag, briefly casting you a look of irritation as he rushed by.

Scowling, you merely spun around to follow his movements. “Did you even hear a word I just said?”

Jack released a sound of triumph as he found his bag by the couch and threw it over his shoulder. “About what?” he asked, purposefully dodging the topic you were trying to hint at. “You bitching about my ‘nighttime activities’ again?” he muttered, intending to just push back your problem with him for another day.

“I heard that,” you hissed, taking brief satisfaction in the way his neck flushed red at being caught. “So, what, I’m just some nagging girlfriend to you, then? Is that it?”

Jack sighed, rubbing a hand down his face as he tied the last lace on his shoe. “I don’t know, babe,” he said. “Can we just do this later?” Finally, he met your eyes for the first time that evening and found stubbornness and frustration staring back at him.

“So you can stay out until four in the morning again doing God knows what?” You scoffed, crossing your arms.

Jack, fed up, stood up and merely shook his head. He said your name through gritted teeth, a spark of genuine anger showing for the first time since starting this conversation. “I have a game to get to. I don’t know what your problem is but you’re really getting on my nerves right now and I really don’t want to hear it.”

Jack, feeling slightly guilty at the way he just spoke to you but not wanting to be the first to apologize, deliberately avoided looking at your face before grabbing his phone and marching out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, tugging at his hair once before releasing a strained breath. Not able to stop himself, Jack looked back at your shared apartment and debated being late to his game just to talk to you, but his stubbornness ultimately won out and with one shake of his head, he tried to cast you and your fight out of his mind until after he came home.

You’d still be there, waiting for him like always, after all, right?

You, meanwhile, stared at the door your boyfriend had just walked through in shock. Anger, frustration, confusion, and the strongest of them all: hurt, rolled through you in waves as you processed the conversation that just happened.

And the ‘problem’ you had with Jack, exactly?

It started out small—nothing huge, or anything. Jack didn’t have many red flags, if any at all – unless you counted him being a professional hockey player – so the fact that you’d been having so many problems recently was a mystery to you, as well.

Well, your relationship had just reached the 1-year milestone, and you only moved in together about a month ago… That’s when you started having problems, you supposed.

Jack’s season playing for the New Jersey Devils had started out strong immediately, and it was clear this was going to be one of his best seasons yet if not the best. The NHL was booking interviews with him, the Devils’ social media had practically turned into a Jack fan page, and the city had just fallen in love with him.

He absorbed the attention like a sponge, of course, like he couldn’t get enough of it. While he was clearly riding the high of being such a hot player right now, he hadn’t ever let it get to his head. His teammates, family, you, would never let him hear the end of it if his ego got too big.

So, here begs the question: why was Jack coming home later and later, texting you when away less, coming up with excuses on why he had to bail on weekly date nights?

Your insecurities had been eating you up lately, and the fact that Jack didn’t even see the problem made it worse. Was he cheating on you? You couldn’t help but ask yourself during many late nights, curled up in the bed you shared, alone, staring at the digital clock on the bedside table as the hours crept by.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you wiped at your eyes before finally tearing them away from the front door after accepting he wasn’t coming back. Making your way to the kitchen, you poured yourself a glass of water to cool your heated body when the vibration of your phone from your pocket interrupted you.

Feeling your heart swell with the hope that maybe it was Jack, you quickly pulled it out only to be disappointed when it was just one of your friends—then you felt bad for feeling disappointed because you loved your friends, as pushy as they could be, sometimes.

Want to hit up a bar? Is what one of them texted in a group chat with you and a few others. Normally, on a night like this where you were wallowing in the emptiness felt by Jack’s continued absence, you’d deny such an offer and merely drown yourself in the cheap wine you kept stashed, but…

A notification from a Devils news site interrupted your thoughts, and that’s where a devious idea struck your mind. Your boyfriend’s team was playing the Philadelphia Flyers tonight, a division rival, and you just so happened to have a close friend who was from the area.

I’m in, you responded to the group chat and couldn’t help but laugh at the string of fire emojis that followed. Wiping the remaining tears from your eyes, you texted said-Philly friend separately and asked if she had any jerseys she’d be willing to spare.

The text bubble that showed she was typing appeared, and then her response came. I have a Konecny jersey. Why?

Perfect.

Two hours later, you were in an Uber on your way to the designated club for the night which just so happened to be a bar that your boyfriend and his teammates frequented after a win. You sported black flared jeans and stilettos, and the star piece of your whole look: a Philadelphia Flyers jersey stamped with Travis Konecny’s name.

You wholeheartedly intended for Jack to see it to rile him up; he had a vicious jealousy streak, and a time like this was the perfect time to ignite it, especially after the 7-0 shutout win they took tonight.

Once you arrived, you tipped the Uber driver and walked in, a happy sway to your step because you felt like you were finally gaining the upper hand in your little feud with your boyfriend. As you walked into the club you were immediately bombarded with the sounds of booming music and flashing lights—the red-to-orange jersey ratio was almost comical, for the amount of ecstatic Devils fans far beat the few Flyers fans scattered throughout the room.

Drunken cheers of your name made you giggle as you found the table your friends had claimed. Like almost every patron in the bar, they were all sporting New Jersey Devils' colors or merch in some way—except for you and the friend who lent you the jersey you were currently wearing, of course.

“Never took you for a Philly fan,” said one of the girls, followed by several agreements. “What’s Jack gonna say when he sees you?”

So he was here, then, you hummed to yourself, briefly scanning the room for any sign of the team. “He’s here already?” you casually asked, leaning back against the booth and sipping on the drink one of your friends handed you.

“Yeah, they’re over in the booth across from us,” they pointed, helping you locate a large group of men and women who you, sure enough, identified as New Jersey Devils players and fan girls hanging off their arms. Feeling your heart seize up because what if Jack had someone hanging off of him, you only released the breath you’d been holding when you saw him near the back of the group talking to Nico.

Your friends saw the brief look of trepidation on your face and didn’t take long to fit the puzzle pieces together. “Are you and Jack still having problems?”

Smiling bitterly, you only shrugged. “Nothing too bad, really. I just want to get back at him for taking me for granted, y’know?”

Immediately, more shots were ordered and you couldn’t help but grin as you tossed the alcohol down your throat, feeling immensely better with the slight buzz that came after.

More confident, too.

Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you announced you were going to the bathroom but merely used it as an excuse to walk by the Devils group, intent on catching your boyfriend’s eye.

Feeling an arm brush against you, you were momentarily distracted when you turned around to find a man about your age looking down at you with a grin that told you he was already several shots ahead of you. He was sporting a Flyers jersey, too.

“You from Philly?” you think the man asked, but it was hard to understand the slur of his words over the loud boom of the music.

You gave him a tightlipped smile before giving your response. Despite the fact you were on a mission to make your boyfriend jealous, you weren’t actually wanting nor intending to cross a line. “No,” you shrugged, taking a small step back. “But I can still be a fan, right?”

As the man laughed, you turned your head back towards where you last saw Jack and sucked in a breath when you saw the look on his face.

Jack had seen you the moment you walked into the bar. He was just drawn to you like that, noticed every little detail about you—including the bright orange Flyers jersey you were currently wearing that made him clench his hand around his drink so hard the glass almost shattered.

What the fuck? He practically growled as he watched you walk up to your friends without sparing him a glance. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel relieved or guilty, because what were you even doing here? You normally always stayed in.

Then Jack had the realization that oh, yeah, you did always stay in—because of him, his schedule, his late nights, and he couldn’t even be bothered to come home to you until the early hours of the morning.

Well then, he thought. That solved the mystery of why you’d been so pissed off at him lately.

The forward anxiously ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t blame you, either.

“Why do you look like you just fucked up?” Nico’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and Jack only cast him a quick glance before relocating you just as you stood up from your booth.

“Because I did,” he said, not taking his eyes off of you as some idiot wearing a Flyers jersey grabbed your attention. “Badly. Very badly.”

Nico followed his teammate’s gaze, furrowing his brow in confusion until he saw you, wearing a—

“Oh,”

Jack had the face of one who couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill you or the guy next to you who still hadn’t taken the hint that you weren’t nearly as interested in him as he was in you. The centerman’s eyes were abnormally dark in the club’s dim lighting, simmering with jealousy and protectiveness.

But that was the entire point of coming here tonight, wasn’t it?

Plastering on a wide, fake smile, you met your boyfriend’s searing gaze and merely shot him a pointed look before attempting to make conversation with the inadvertently talkative man still blabbering on beside you.

He was handsome in a rugged kind of way if you were into that sort of thing, and towered over you in both height and weight much like Jack, but whereas with your boyfriend the size difference made you feel safe and protected, this guy just made you feel smothered and uncomfortable.

He was well past drunk, though, so you figured he couldn’t do that much harm. You hadn’t let him come very close to you either and were trying to maintain a respectful distance knowing Jack was probably having a very hard time restraining himself from marching over and making a scene.

You were just trying to get back at him, as petty as it may be…

The man whose name you later found out to be Todd managed to keep a fifteen-minute conversation going on about himself – which you found mildly impressive – so when he finally started to trail off, you began to make your escape.

“Nice talking with you, but my friends are probably looking for me,” you said, dodging Todd’s attempts at trying to touch you.

“Awe, c’mon, babe, I’m sure they don’t care,” Todd tried to wink, but it looked like he was having some type of muscle spasm instead. You nervously laughed, trying to back away, but then he suddenly stepped in front of you and got so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Don’t be a tease, now,” he slurred, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark. You tried backing away, but quickly hit the counter of the bar where you were now caged in. Fuck, you gulped, feeling very uncomfortable as he crept his hands up your waist. “Get off me, please,” you said, trying to sound stern, but even you could hear the shakiness in your words.

Panicked, your eyes darted around the room looking for any of your friends you came with or even any of the guys you passed earlier, but in the darkness of the club, you came up empty. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling helpless and regretting all of your life choices leading up to this moment, and tried to get away from the face that was steadily creeping closer until you heard a voice all too familiar.

A thunderous voice suddenly boomed over the music, and your eyes shot open in shock at the sight in front of you.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Jack's voice was livid, the edges of a growl erupting from his chest as you watched his hand clamp down on Todd’s shoulder to forcefully yank him away. “Ever heard of consent, asshole?”

You watched, stunned, as your boyfriend’s dark eyes glared daggers into Todd’s whose collar was currently in his grasp. Jack might have been a few inches shorter, but he was stronger and clearly more sober as Todd stumbled in his grasp.

“Dude, chill,” you sucked in a breath as he tried pleading with your murderous-looking boyfriend. “I didn't know she was your girl,” trying to get away from a potential brawl, you stumbled back and in your confusion ran right into someone.

Having just been practically assaulted, you jumped as a hand came to rest on your shoulder. You were sure you resembled something of a startled animal and felt almost embarrassed at the situation you found yourself in.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s just me!” Nico’s reassuring voice immediately had you relaxing, and you released a breath as you spun around to face him. Gladly taking the arm the captain offered, you smiled shakily.

“You okay?” He asked once you were safely next to him. You nodded slowly, blinking past the slight pounding of your head. “Yeah,” you replied, your eyes finding Jack and Todd still exchanging heated words a few feet away.

They had won your attention back just in time for you to watch the centerman shove your drunken pursuer to the floor and then step away immediately before doing something worse.

Jack’s eyes quickly found yours as he brushed his hair away from his face, scanning up and down your body for any sign of injury. You knew he was furious with you, but even pissed beyond belief, he was still the most attractive man in the world to you because of how he put your safety and well-being first.

He walked up to you then, nodding his thanks to his teammate for keeping you safe before pulling you into his chest. “Are you okay?” He murmured into the top of your hair, one of his hands squeezing your hip reassuringly.

You inhaled your boyfriend’s scent, burying your face in his shirt and reveling in the comfort his mere presence brought you. “I’m okay,” you whispered, feeling tired now that the night’s events had started to catch up to you. “I love you,”

You felt him murmur the exact words back, the tension slowly leaving his body the longer he held you in his arms and away from the idiot who had his hands on you.

Jack stepped back after a moment, keeping you tucked into his side with a protective arm wrapped around your waist. You kept your face pressed into his side, not yet willing to face reality.

All you wanted right now was him. And your bed, too.

“We’re going to head home for the night,” the centerman said to the rest of the group, hearing no disagreements as they spoke their goodbyes. You lifted your head only slightly to say your own goodbye, giving an extra thankful smile to Nico who merely waved you off.

As you finished talking to the rest of his teammates, you tapped Jack's shoulder and spoke into his ear over the loud music. “I’m going to say bye to my friends real quick,”

Jack had a look of apprehension and even worry on his face, so you stood up on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll be fast, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “But nothing more than that. I’ll be by the door.”

You cast him a grateful smile before slipping away, locating two of your friends still sitting at the booth looking far more inebriated than before. “Jack and I are heading home,” you told them.

“Oh! You guys worked it out?”

You bit your lip, fiddling with one of your sleeves. Huh, orange wasn’t really your color. “Not exactly,” quickly glancing back towards your boyfriend waiting by the club doors, you winced when you saw his darkened expression. “He’s a little angry with me…”

“Because of the jersey?” they asked, curious. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

You decided you were going to blame the hideous Flyers jersey you were wearing for the series of unfortunate events that happened tonight.

Speaking of, you needed to give it back to the friend who lent it to you, at some point.

“I’ll see you guys,” you muttered, purposefully dodging their questions as you waved goodbye. Luckily, they were too drunk to argue.

You made your way back through the crowd, Jack meeting you halfway to lace your fingers together before leading you to the exit. His pace was quick, and determined, making you wonder just what exactly he had planned.

The cold Jersey air sobered you immensely once you were outside, ridding you of the effects the alcohol had left on you earlier. You finally got a clear look at your boyfriend then, admiring the sharp cut of his jawline and the way he was still fuming even as you walked to his car.

“Jack?” you tried, watching as he pulled open the passenger door for you. “Get in,” he said, avoiding your imploring eyes. “And take that off. You know it looks awful,” he added the last part as an afterthought, scowling at the sight of you wearing a jersey sans his name.

You thought about making a joke but decided against it when you saw the look on his face. He didn't look like he was in the mood for games right now, and something told you you didn't want to test him.

“I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you responded meekly. You heard Jack sigh, and you briefly looked up to find him pulling out a hoodie he had in his backseat.

It was red, of course, a Devils hoodie with his surname printed on the back. The hockey player stared at you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised and that's when you realized he was waiting.

“What, you mean change now?” you squeaked, feeling your eyes widen at the seriousness in his eyes. “Jack, we’re in a public parking lot,”

“And?” he asked, almost sassy considering the situation. “You really think I’ll let anyone look at you?” his muscled arms tensed out of reflex, further cementing his point.

You clenched your jaw, opening your mouth to argue, but then Jack took two quick strides towards you until you were standing chest-to-chest.

He said your name once, placing his hands on your waist to pull you closer. “I almost beat that guy back in the bar to death for placing his hands on you. I would have, actually, if it weren’t for seeing you look so scared next to Nico,” he murmured, staring into your eyes so deeply you couldn’t look away.

“It’s bad enough having to see you wear our rival’s jersey, which I deserve, by the way, because I’ve been an ass to you—but if I have to see you wearing someone’s name that isn’t my own for the rest of the night any longer, I might commit a crime.

“Please,” he breathed, tilting his head downwards to brush your lips together. “Take off the damn jersey.”

All you could do was nod. Yes sir. You maintained eye contact all while you slipped the jersey from your shoulders, feeling immensely better without the scratchy fabric on your skin. Jack wordlessly handed you his hoodie, and you slid it on without complaint.

It was several sizes too big for you; it was loose around your waist and hips and the sleeves were too long for your arms, but you didn’t care one bit because it smelled just like him and made you feel safe and warm and most importantly:

Home.

Jack raked his eyes up and down your body in approval, but he was still tense even as he opened the passenger door for you and shut it once you were in without a word.

You had a feeling you were going to be in for it when you got home, and even with his anger – whether it was directed at you or himself – you didn’t quite blame him.

The only thing you weren’t quite sure of is if he was angry because you semi-flirted with another man or wore a jersey that wasn’t his… Both are completely plausible possibilities.

Jack, meanwhile, had to stop himself from looking your way because he knew he was going to snap, and that wasn’t fair on you. Yes, he had to sit back and watch another guy blatantly hit on you while wearing the opposing team’s jersey, but… You didn’t reciprocate any advances, and he would never fault you for the actions of another.

Just the mere thought of the jackass who had his hands on you made his knuckles turn white on the grip he had on the steering wheel. If not for the terrified look on your face to snap him out of it, he had no doubt he would have pummeled the guy to the ground.

And at the same time, he knew he wasn’t angry with you but angry with himself instead because you had done nothing to warrant his behavior towards you and could even go as far as to say he deserved it, too.

He just wished he hadn’t walked out on you before—you wouldn’t have been almost assaulted if he hadn’t.

Alas, his anger – no matter who it was directed at – radiating off of him in waves was palpable and kept you tense and unsure of what to say or do the entire ride home.

When you finally arrived back at the apartment, the two of you remained silent as you worked around each other in getting ready for bed. For the first time in months he was going to fall asleep in the same bed as you, at the same time, you noted.

The brooding centerman muttered something aloud from the other side of the room, and you looked at him questionably. Jack met your eyes, an emotion unknown brewing in his own that made you curious.

“Orange is such an ugly color,” he said. “What convinced you to even wear that?”

A teasing mood he was in, then. “To make you jealous. Did it work?”

Jack scoffed, taking a few steps forward to playfully grab at your hips causing you to grip his biceps for stability. “It worked, alright,” he murmured, and then his eyes turned dark as he remembered the night’s end result before the two of you left. “I would’ve pummeled him if it weren’t for the guys.”

You bit your lip at the sight of his protectiveness for you written all over his face, hating that you were having a serious conversation now and all you could think about was how attractive he is.

“Then you would have gotten arrested, and probably suspended from the team,” you replied, bringing his attention back to you. Jack cracked a small smile, hair falling over his eyes as his gaze dropped.

“Worth it.” your boyfriend then brought you in close to wrap his arms around you, burying his head in his favorite spot where your neck met your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment, his grip on you tightening.

You had no complaints at his sudden burst of physical affection and happily burrowed your head in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent. “For what?”

You might have accepted the fact he was trying to make up for all the fighting over the last few months, but you weren’t just going to let it go, either.

After all, it was only due to you going out of your way to invoke such a strong reaction that got him to pull his head out of his ass.

“For everything,” his mind raced over all the ways he had been treating you wrongly, and had a hard time forming his words in such a way that covered it all. “For never coming home to you, and acting like you were ridiculous for feeling insecure,” he quickly clarified.

You made a noncommittal noise, muffled by the fabric of his shirt your face was pressed against. “I felt crazy—still do feel kind of crazy,” the tears came back then, the emotions – anger, frustration, sadness, fear – of the night catching up to you. “Did I… Was I doing something wrong?”

Jack felt his heart break at the sheer amount of emotion in your voice, and while knowing that the alcohol in your system was partly to blame for your unfiltered honesty, he knew the words you were speaking were still true.

He had to approach this conversation delicately.

He whispered your name, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek and sliding it under your chin so you’d meet his eyes. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, okay? I hear you. You’re valid, how you’re feeling is valid.

“I’m the stupid one, okay? You did nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing. Well—except for wearing that jersey. But, hey, I don’t even blame you for that, either. I deserved it, yeah?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, not willing to accept his apology because you still felt like he was being too forgiving.

Jack, not being able to stand you hiding from him, gently brought both his hands to your face so he could bring you closer and press a kiss to your lips. “Stop demeaning yourself. You’re better than that—certainly better than me.”

Your laugh was shaky, remnants of tears in your voice undeniable. “I don’t know. I wore that stupid jersey, after all. To make you mad. Deliberately.”

“And it worked,” he replied, refusing to let you shy away from him when you tried ducking your head again. “Very well, in fact. It was really smart, actually; I’m almost proud of you for thinking of it.”

Jack was already making you feel miles better compared to how you were feeling before, and you knew he was using his humor on purpose. His corny jokes were what drew you to him in the first place, after all.

“Almost proud?” you couldn’t help but tease back. “Maybe I should wear a Hurricanes jersey next time. Ooh, or the Rangers,”

The centerman had enough then, and with a wicked grin threw you over his shoulder to bring you into the bathroom. You weren’t drunk, but you were a bit tipsy, and he just wanted to use it as an excuse to really take care of you.

He also just felt really bad, like a shitty boyfriend, too. He had a lot of making up to do and knew this was only the first step.

“There will be no jerseys owned by you unless they are Devils’ red and have my name on the back, yeah?” you pouted as he set you down on the counter next to the sink.

“Fine. Orange is an ugly color, anyways.”

Jack hummed in agreement as he wet a washcloth with warm water and then began to gently wipe down your face. He worked in silence, concentrated on the task at hand while you just admired his face.

Okay, yeah, you were still a little tipsy. Your boyfriend always looked good, but maybe it was just about what happened tonight that had you really appreciating his looks.

“What’re you staring at?” Jack said, biting his lip to hide the grin threatening to break through. He loved that you couldn’t keep your eyes off him.

“You,” you replied with no hesitation, giggling when he proceeded to wipe directly over your eye at your witty comment. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty. Why do you like me, again?”

Your boyfriend scoffed, tossing the washcloth somewhere on the sink before pulling you closer to him. “Pretty? What if I lose a tooth, would you still like me then?” he briefly washed his hands, and then turned back to you. “And why do I love you, you mean? That’s easy. Let me show you.”

“Show me?” you muttered, your brain still running slow. “What do you mean, ‘show me’—”

That’s when he interrupted you by picking you up, moving your legs to wrap around his waist before carrying you to the bed.

Jack kicked off his shoes before falling on his back first while taking you with him. You ended up sprawled on his chest, his arms holding you close as you tilted your head up to meet his eyes.

“Being able to manhandle me is why you love me?” you said teasingly. “Noted,”

The centerman groaned dramatically. Knowing you were about to speak, he interrupted your next sentence by kissing you and grinned into your lips when you sighed with pleasure and brought your hands up to tangle in his hair.

“Done being sassy now?” your boyfriend hummed as he slowly pulled back, looking every bit the mischievous devil as the team he played for.

“Hmm,” you blinked lazily, stretching as if you were a satisfied cat, and wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him close. “As long as you stay here with me,”

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A few minutes later of the two of you making up for lost time, you had eventually moved to be cuddling under the bed sheets as the little spoon, just how you liked it.

“Don’t wear that jersey again,” Jack grumbled into your neck, pressing a few butterfly kisses to the skin exposed to the air.

“Seriously?” you giggled, attempting to turn around in his arms but being stopped due to the strength of his hold.

“Dead serious. It almost killed me.”

You were used to his dramatics by now but knew he was speaking from his heart because jerseys really did mean a lot to sports players, hockey players especially. Wearing Jack’s name might have just been superficial, but it was still a sure thing and a testament to the seriousness of your relationship.

Wearing someone else’s name, especially someone from an opposing team, was an insult to that even though it was just a piece of clothing at the end of the day.

“Better stay on my good side, then,” you teased, but knew you wouldn’t ever wear any other jersey but Jack’s again. He learned his lesson, as did you.

Teasingly nipping at your neck, your boyfriend merely laughed before burying his head in your shoulder and closing his eyes.

You snuggled closer to the warm wall of muscle behind you, reveling in the comfort of knowing your relationship was stronger than ever.

“I love you,” you said, quietly, staring out the window as the stars looked down upon you.

“Love you, too,” Jack whined at the sharp pain he felt from your arm as it swatted at him, and then quickly clarified. “I mean, I love you—I love you, too!”

You grinned, and you knew he could practically feel it which made the small victory even more satisfactory.

Jack muttered something else under his breath, one word suspiciously sounding like ‘jersey’, and then he was out like a light.

Exasperatedly, you sighed. Hockey players.

You wouldn’t wear a jersey that didn’t have the name ‘Hughes’ and his number printed on it ever again.

A/N: Did you guys like the missing tooth reference? One of my favorite lines in this tbh, I just love poking fun at situations like those lol. Anyways, please please please reblog and comment because it means the world to me and makes writing so much more worth it. I hope y’all enjoyed :))

────────────────────────────────

Taglist: @ballsakic @bbbbruins @bbnhlqueen7 @kapriz0v @iwantahockeyhimbo @sebbyaho @heatherawoowoo @matsbarzal @teuvomakesmesmile @grittysbattinggloves @typical-simplelove @diary-of-jj @stars-canucks @besthockeyfics @sidcrosbyspuck @ilyasorokinn @drei-mrssvechii @tanninetanya @insomniren @yagetintoit @2manytabsopen @huggy-hischier4394 @diary-of-kk @estapa94 @spacesurfing

Add yourself to my 18- (SFW) Taglist here!

Add yourself to my 18+ (NSFW) Taglist here!

2K notes · View notes

froggibus · 2 months

Note

Saw your post!! Any thoughts on what Junkrat, Mei, Venture, and Sombra might do if their respective s/o's wanted a prize from a claw machine? Who can actually do? What do they do if they can't?

Claw Machine - Junkrat, Mei, Sombra & Venture

Genre: fluff, little crack

Summary: how your s/o would win (or steal) you a prize from a claw machine

CW: sombra’s a jerk, established relationships, theft (in a funny silly goofy way), Ven gets stuck in a claw machine, none of these people are good at games sorry

thanks so much for giving me a cute fluffy req ^^ I really appreciate it. sometimes writing so much smut gets a little overwhelming so I am grateful for fun little ideas like this!! 💓 hope you’re having a great day lovely someone pls remind me in the morning to give this a proper banner

@kitsune-loves-fics wrote a beautiful continuation of Venture’s part! come check it out here 💓

Junkrat:

insists he’s the best at claw machine games

he is not.

however he will spend all day and all the money he has just so he could get you whatever prize you wanted

unrelated but Mako is probably crazy at claw games

keeps promising he’ll win it for you but progressively gets worse and worse at the game

eventually gets annoyed and starts shaking the machine

please walk away it’s so embarassing

if that doesn’t work he will literally break the glass and just grab the toy for you

gets down on his knee like a dork and hands it to you

“for you, little cricket”

grabs your hand and runs away giggling from security

you’re legally obligated to keep the toy forever or else he’ll get sad

Mei:

probably average at the claw game

she won’t try all day but if you really want it, she’ll give it at least ten tries

gets kind of confused when she can’t win and decides to apply some science to it

literally calculates a bunch of math based on how fast it moves, how far away it is, size of everything etc

the math still doesn’t help

some kid probably comes up and does it on the first try and she’s staring at them like ‘how’

is completely focused on this damn claw machine now just to get you a little plushy

please bring her a drink or something to boost her mood

when you walk away she’ll try to put her hand in the machine but her arms are too short :(

in the end she recruits snowball and together they manage to get you your little plushy ^^

however she feels so guilty about it after she has to confess to you

Sombra:

she will never let herself be defeated by ANY machine

she’ll probably tell you to win it for yourself and lean against the machine with a smirk while she watches you

you’ll pout at her and beg for her help but she wants to see how ‘dedicated’ you are first (whatever that means)

eventually she gives in (she can never resist you) and steps up to try the game

and immediately loses.

doesn’t even try again, she just hacks it and forces it to do whatever she wants

doesn’t just grab you one plushy, she practically cleans out the whole machine

“liv can we just leave? people are starting to stare?”

“just one more, cariño”

it will not be just one more, but how can you resist when she’s being so sweet?

Venture:

dork ass steps right up the minute you press your face on the glass and coo about how cute it is

“don’t worry babe, I got this”

(they really do not)

they will hyperfocus on it and play it for literal hours

they’re not even bad at it—they keep winning prizes, just not the one that you want

you could leave for ten minutes and come back and they’ll still be trying it

after maybe an hour of playing they get you to stand on the side and shake it for them

if that doesn’t work, they try to shove their arm up there but they’re so muscly they get stuck

you end up having to call the fire department to get them unstuck lol

and the owner of the place feels so bad (or maybe embarrassed) for you guys that they unlock the machine and just give you the toy

masterlist | overwatch masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

162 notes · View notes

ohsc · 3 months

Note

Hi! Welcome to the tumblr spn fandom! I wanted to make a request for a sibling!reader, who's about teenager age, meeting Sam and Dean for the first time and finding out that she is their little sibling?

(P.s. love your bots, and I'll be looking forward to your fics on ao3!)

hey lovely, tysm!! i loved the req, hope you’re having a good day <3

(platonic) dean & sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.5k, sfw — requests are open

Sam felt so bad he felt physically sick.

Dean, stood by his side, seemed more angry than worried. He was fuming as they both stood on the front porch, waiting for the door to swing open after he knocked a little too harshly.

“It’s messed up,” Dean grit his teeth, glaring eyes switching between Sam and the door. “How many other kids does he have knocking about, huh?”

It was messed up. Majorly.

When they had found out about Adam, that was bad enough. That their father had a whole other son that he had never told them about, that he secretly went and took to baseball games and bought Christmas presents for. And though it left a sour taste in Sam’s mouth to think of how different John had treated their brother, he was at least happy that he’d had a normal childhood, that he hadn’t been roped into their father’s life, his quest for revenge. But then Adam had ended up in the cage, and it still made Sam feel fucking awful.

But this? This made Sam feel so horrible.

Finding out that they had a sixteen year old sister was honestly like a smack in the face. It meant that she was just a toddler when John had died, and though Sam was glad that she had the chance to live a normal life, it meant she’d never even had the chance to meet her father.

Or her brothers.

Sam had pictured the conversation in his head over and over again on the drive to her house, but he still didn’t know what to say. How was you supposed to tell somebody out of the blue that they had two brothers? How could you drop that onto somebody?

The door handle rattled, and Sam looked up to watch as it was pulled open a few inches, still locked with the chain from the inside, but it was enough space to see the young girl stood there. She was so young that it left a horrible feeling in Sam’s chest for what they had to tell her, what they were there for.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, gentle, so far from what they had expected of John’s daughter. “Can I help you?”

“Hey there,” Dean took the lead, offering a smile through his anger that still burned at the revelation they were facing. “Could you open the door up so we can talk, kid?”

She frowned, “You’re strangers.”

At least she was cautious, that made Sam relieved. It seemed like Dean agreed, as he hesitated before nodded. “Right, yeah we are, good call,” he muttered. “Look, kid-”

“We’re sorry to bother you,” Sam took the lead as soon as he heard the agitation seeping through Dean’s tone, a hand clasping onto his older brother’s shoulder, as if to say I’ve got this. “You’re Y/N, right?” He kept his voice gentle, not wanting to spook the poor girl who already seemed pretty weary.

Her frown only deepened. “How do you know my name?”

Sam offered a small smile, trying to be delicate about it as he asked, “Has your mother ever mentioned somebody called John Winchester?”

The recognition in her eyes was visible almost immediately, the way her expression shifted to accommodate the thought that ran through her mind. She hesitated, and only when Sam had murmured a few soft words of encouragement did she say, “She said John Winchester is my father,” she eyed up both Sam and Dean, her eyebrows scrunched up slightly as she asked, “Who are you? What do you want?”

“We just wanted to talk, um-”

“We’re John Winchester’s sons.” Dean cut in, and the bluntness of the statement made Sam shoot him a nasty glare. Given what had happened the last time they found out they had another sibling — it was fucked up that this wasn’t even the first time it had happened — Sam wanted to do it right. Not practically shove the information down the girl’s throat.

She blinked, took in an audible breath as she glanced between the brothers, before the door shut.

“Nice, Dean,” Sam immediately snapped, turning to glare at him. “Why’d you have to say it like that?”

“You were taking too long-”

The lock rattled and then the door was pulled open fully, and the brothers were silenced as they both turned to look at the girl, who seemed just shocked as she stood there in the doorway, her gaze flickering between the two of them. She eventually found her voice when she asked, “Do you have any ID?”

Sam liked how smart she seemed already, but held his tongue on it as he and Dean got out their only real IDs, and handed them over to her. She looked at them both a little intently, and when her eyes eventually lifted again, any skepticism that had been in her expression before was wiped clean.

“…do you want to come in?”

IDs were handed back, and five minutes later they were all sat in the girl’s living room, Sam shoulder-to-shoulder with Dean on a loveseat, and Y/N perched on the edge of a different sofa in front of them. They hadn’t even been sat there for long, but the entire time she hadn’t stopped fidgeting, her leg jogged up and down, fingers messed with a loose thread on her clothes. And though Dean seemed a little irritated by the uncomfortable silence — by the entire situation, really — Sam just felt for the girl. He couldn’t imagine being her age, and finding out he had two much older brothers who had literally turned up on her doorstep.

Then again, when he was her age, he was more often than not covered in some sort of monster’s blood.

“So, um…” Y/N took a breath, rubbed her palms on her knees, before she exhaled a bit sharply. “I’m sorry, this is really weird, I don’t know what to say. It’s just-”

“I know,” Sam eased, and offered a sympathetic smile. “I know, we’re sorry to just… drop in, drop this on you.”

“We thought you ought to know about us,” Dean added, his voice also came out more gentle than it usually was. “We were just as shocked as you when we found out about you.”

“What about your dad?” She asked, paused, then, “Our… sorry.”

“No, s’okay,” Sam cleared his throat. “He died some years ago, now.” He’d said it so much over the years that he just felt numb as the words came out. One glance at Dean and he knew that his brother felt the same.

“Oh,” her expression dropped, big eyes looking so guilty, “I’m sorry, I didn’t… that’s horrible, I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Dean cut in, waving the girl off. “You didn’t know, it’s alright.”

“Yeah…” she sighed, and took a sip from her glass of water that was sat on the table between them. “My mom said I met him once, when I was a baby he came by. But that was it, she said that he said he was busy with work.”

Sam grit his teeth, and had to glance away for a moment. Jesus, this poor girl. Sam knew how hard it was to grow up with his dad being there sometimes and other times nowhere to be found, but for her to have never even known him? He’d known his sister for all of ten minutes and already he felt almost protective of her.

“He was a mechanic,” Dean told her, offered a small smile. “Me and Sam worked with him until he died.”

“And what do you do now?” She was definitely a curious girl, but Sam couldn’t blame her for wondering about the family she’d just learned that she had.

“Still in the family business,” Dean continued, nodding. “What about you? Still in school?”

Y/N nodded, offered a small smile of her own. “Yeah, I’m a junior.”

“Man, I miss high school,” Dean sighed, leaned back in his seat slightly. “When I was a junior there was this one teacher, Mrs. Bradford, what I would have done to-”

Sam gave him a harsh nudge and earned a glare in return, and quickly muttered, “Shut up, not everyone spends high school skipping class to make out.”

Dean, who had been about to argue back, was cut off by Y/N’s soft laugh, and both brothers turned to face her, see the little smile on her face. “I do skip class sometimes.”

“Ha,” Dean hit his knee against Sam’s. “To do what? Smoke under the bleachers? Steal school supplies?”

“Jesus, Dean-”

“Actually, me and my friends skip to go into town together…”

Sam glanced between his brother and his newly discovered sister, and most of the worry that had been building in his gut earlier that morning had started fading. They still had a lot to even consider — telling her about what they really did, who their dad had been, why they were in town in the first place — but in that moment, starting to chat to her, Sam felt a bit better about it all. Maybe things would go better this time.

He hoped so.

#i suck so bad at ending fics #spn #spn fanfic #supernatural #spnfandom #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural one shot #spn fanfiction #spn one shot #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader

170 notes · View notes

suskz · 3 months

Note

Hi there! Could write a Chan x reader. Reader went to a skz fansigning & got dared to give Chan a note and along with the note there was an attached hotel key card, asking him to meet her at a certain time and at first he was so hesitant about it but then when the reader waits for over an hour after the time stated on the note, she opens the hotel door ready to leave and there is chan 👀

pairing: Idol!Chan x Fan!Fem!Reader

t/w: fluff ; Chan is a tease and a flirt ; reader is delulu (even tho she says she isn’t).

w/c: around 1.3k

a/n: I’m not really sure about this. I practically wrote what you had already written. I wanted to extend the final part but it just didn’t come out right. Anyway, yours is a really great idea, I love it! I hope you still like this!

It's a stupid idea. It's ridiculous. And yet you're doing it anyway.

You know it's impossible for it to actually happen, but if you're doing it, it's because deep down —very deep down— inside you, there's a little hope.

“You got this, girl!” you hear from the other end of the phone. This only makes you more nervous and embarrassed about what you're doing. You're so damn delusional.

Your hand moves the pen faster across the paper as you mutter a 'shut up' to your friend, who sighs yet again at your harsh choice of words.

The click of the pen marks the end of your note.

You end the call, get up from the toilet, and leave the bathroom as if nothing happened —or will happen. You get back in line behind other people waiting to see their idols, preparing yourself for the humiliation.

But when you find yourself in front of him, you realise there's no way to prepare for the humiliation from something like this.

“Hello!” he greets you with a smile, wearing the wolf ear headband that one of the fans before you gave him.

“Hi.” Your voice is anxious, and he can tell.

You hand him the album you have in your hands, and he immediately opens it and starts signing it.

Your heart beats fast because you are in front of him, Bang Chan. Your idol, the man who has captured your heart more than anyone else. And the man who will soon want to run as far away from you as possible after opening your letter.

A card, a place, and a street. 'Let’s meet at 5pm tomorrow?' written with an uncertainty you never imagined you could experience.

You already prepare to laugh to brush away the embarrassment when he opens the letter. You start to consider whether to give it to him or not. You could spare yourself an embarrassing moment and continue living your life normally. Maybe that's better; fuck the dare, it's just a silly game.

“What’s your name?” Your thoughts are interrupted by his sweet voice as he looks up from the album, perhaps a little amused.

You feel your cheeks heat up as you realise you've been silently staring at him for too long. A few seconds, but it's already too much.

“Uh, Y/n.” You try to say with as much confidence as possible, but it doesn’t come out as you would have liked.

“How are you, Y/n?” He asks kindly.

“I’m good, thanks. A bit nervous, actually.” You admit, and he looks at you still smiling.

“Oh, you don’t need to be.” He reassures you.

"It’s just, I’m sitting in front of a God, you left me speechless." You try to sound as normal as possible. You've rehearsed what to say to him in advance, and you don't want your anxiety to prevent you from talking to him.

He opens his mouth to speak but immediately shuts it, taken by surprise. Now it’s him who’s speechless.

“That’s too sweet, thank you.” His smile widens, his eyes forming crescents and his dimples more visible than before, if possible.

"That's the truth though, you're much more handsome in person than I thought." you compliment him again.

You feel more relaxed now and manage to speak with him normally for the rest of the time.

It's when you have to move on to the next member and he greets you that you give him the letter.

"This is for you, I would appreciate it if you read it later."

And indeed, he remembers to read it at the end of the fan sign.

‘From Y/n’ he reads in his mind, opening it.

And he thinks you're crazy. Maybe a maniac. Delusional enough to do something like this thinking he would show up.

And he's ready to give it to the staff to throw it in the trash, but when someone behind him calls him, he's too taken aback to think properly and puts your letter in his pocket.

It's a stupid move, but he promises himself to throw it away later, in the dressing room.

Or a few hours later, at home. Or in his room, after reading it one last time. Or after reading it twice. Or three times.

For the first time, he takes out the key card and examines it in his hands. It's real, it's not a joke.

‘That’s crazy’, he realises. He can't show up, it would be stupid, it would be dangerous. It's the best thing to do, ignore it all.

And yet you are still waiting for him, dressed in the black leather skirt your friends chose for you. You glance at the clock and realise you've been sitting on the hotel room sofa for almost an hour.

You knew it was a stupid idea and that he would never show up. Actually, it would have been insane of Chan to do so. He probably thought you were a serial killer or something, or that you wanted to kidnap him.

You sigh. You get up from the sofa, grab your bag from where it’s placed on a chair, and head to the door.

When you open it, though, you quickly step back and almost throw your bag at the person standing in front of you.

Your eyes widen when you realise who it is.

"Uh… hello." He smiles awkwardly, scratching the nape of his neck.

He came.

A thought immediately flashes through your mind.

Now what?

When you sit on the sofa, after him, you are the first to speak, “I didn’t… think you would actually come.” You find the courage to look him in the eyes.

“I didn’t think I would come either, it was a last-minute decision,” he admits. “I don’t know what was going through my mind when I decided to come.” He chuckles slightly, and you smile.

“Is it because I seemed cute to you at the fan sign?” You tease him. Embarrassing. You realize too late that you shouldn’t have said it.

You’re lucky, though, because he plays along, “I couldn’t find the words to tell you after being called a God.” He teases back, a smirk forming on his lips.

You stay silent for a while, embarrassment spreading across your cheeks and making him chuckle.

“Can you blame me? You have me obsessed over your fancams, the way you move is amazing.”

“Oh, yeah?” He grins, “I’m honored to know that a pretty girl like you watches my fancams.” He says playfully.

Pretty?

“Oh shut up.” You say jokingly, rolling your eyes to hide the blush coloring your cheeks.

“I will, if it’s you who says so.” He says, looking into your eyes in a way that now seems more intense.

You swallow hard, not expecting such a response, trying to hold his gaze.

“If you don’t stop talking like that, I’ll be completely yours, Mr. Bang.” You find the confidence in his eyes to say these words.

He chuckles, “I’d like to see that.”

“You’re being too much of a tease.” You say in a pouty tone, looking away like a child who didn’t get their candy.

“Don’t you like me for that very reason?” He asks rhetorically, raising an eyebrow.

You turn your head back toward him and smile, “Yes, I like you for that too.”

And he knew that at the end of this evening, he would have to leave and pretend nothing happened.

And he knew it was wrong and he would regret it when he had to face the consequences, but he did it anyway.

“Should we exchange numbers?”

#bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #bang chan fluff #stray kids fluff #ask #asks ♡#user: softkisshyunjin

230 notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 11 months

Note

Could you maybe write something where alessia is dating leahs sister or something? Like alessia and reader fight and leah overhears and trys to protect y/n going straight into overprotective big sister mode.

miscommunication II a.russo x williamson!reader

miscommunication II a.russo

“hey, baby you played brilliantly.” you sat down beside your girlfriend and murmured, placing a hand on your leg. “get off.” the taller blonde warned quietly, shoving your hand off her leg and shuffling away from you further down the bench.

most of the team had filtered out by now, no one really wanting to sit around and reflect on the 4-0 flogging they’d just taken from chelsea which had cost them precious points at this stage of the season.

you however had been absolutely no help to them.

picking up a concussion after you’d not been paying attention in training and ran right into the goal post when trying to go in for a tackle had meant you’d been benched this week for monitoring.

much as you had protested the decision there wasn't a chance your sister would let you risk any sort of injury, the blonde captain of your national team simply fixing you with her infamously stern glare any time you tried.

“lessi-“ you tried again, moving back closer to your girlfriend as she started to take off her boots and socks. “don’t.” was all she mumbled before you could even say a word, again shuffling away from you and shoving her shoes and socks into the kit bag at her feet.

“love please you’re being way too hard on yourself it’s a team sport and you-“ you reached out toward her, flinching as she shoved your hand away and stood suddenly.

“can’t you take a hint? just stay away from me.” your girlfriend snapped, a move incredibly out of character for the normally kind and well mannered blonde you’d fallen in love with, slinging her bag over her shoulder and storming out of the change rooms, drawing the attention and concern of several of your team mates who watched on.

"hey maybe just let her cool-" you heard jen start to warn but never one to believe in leaving things unresolved you ignored her.

chasing after the striker and grabbing her shoulder you tensed as she she spun around and advanced on you instead, having you stumbling backwards.

“i don’t want to hear the same shit you spew every week about how it’s a team sport and no one has a bad game and we can pick ourselves up-“ the taller girl started, practically chest to chest with you now backed up against the wall as a frown etched itself into your eyebrows at her aggressive demeanour.

“you didn’t even play! not that you’d have been any help anyway with how reckless and careless you are half the time which is how you ended up concussed in the first place. you’d have probably cost us a fifth goal!” your stomach dropped at the harsh words, coming from anyone else your skin was thick enough to brush it off, but coming from her? it hurt.

unknown to both you and alessia you weren’t the only one who overheard, your older sister hearing the blondes harsh words and immediately following the source of the noise.

“less baby if this is about what you asked me before please just can we sit down and talk about it? you ran off before you even gave me a chance to-” you grabbed her hands hoping to try and bring her back to baseline but it was no use as she snatched them away.

the girl had caught you off guard during warm ups and had asked you an extraordinarily important question. but not expecting it you'd panicked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, though before you had time to explain your reasoning she was called back onto the pitch.

“no actually we can’t. you made yourself very clear and if i’m honest it’s got me thinking about it we even have a future if you can’t even consider something like that.” she snapped pushing at your chest as you tried to hug her, clearly frustrated from a shit game and your earlier argument as you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes at the thought of losing her.

“oh and here come the waterworks! that’s convenient isn’t it? the moment something doesn’t go your way you just cry about it. you made me feel about two centimeters tall before and you didn't seem to care then, you’re pathetic.” with that she shoved your chest one last time and turned to leave, only to be met with the burning glare of your very infuriated and incredibly overprotective older sister who’d heard everything as she raced down the hallway.

“what the fuck did you just say to her?” leah growled, balling alessia’s shirt in her fists and harshly pushing her against the wall as a few more of the girls poked their heads out of the change rooms at the commotion.

“get off me leah you haven’t got a clue so why don’t you just keep your nose out of it for once!” alessia snapped as she struggled to break out of the older girls grip, who may have been shorter but sure as hell wasn’t letting her go that easy.

a brief shock flickered across the captains face at the tone and harsh words from the normally soft spoken girl, but all of that disappeared the moment her eyes glanced right and she saw the tear tracks down your cheeks.

“i don’t care if we lose ten to nothing you do not ever speak to her like that you hear me? as her girlfriend, as her friend, as her team mate as anything. far as i can see alessia you’re the pathetic one!" leah shouted as alessia's face paled.

"she did nothing but cheer for you that entire game less, she has always been your biggest fan. and then you’re gonna come here after a piss poor performance by the entire team and take your frustration with that out to rip her down? think again.” your sister growled as alessia struggled to push her off to no success at all.

"lee just get off her, it's a misunderstanding please let her go!" you tried to pry your sisters hands off but she elbowed you away with a shake of her head.

“what did i say to you when you both started dating hm? what did i say alessia? what did you promise me?” leah spat, pushing her against the wall with a loud thump as she saw red and her jaw clenched. “to treat her with respect.” alessia mumbled, wincing as leahs grip tightened, her hand moving to tug on her collar now restricting her airway.

“does that look like she’s been treated with some fucking respect alessia? does it?” leah growled, forcing the blonde to look at you as jen and beth stepped in to try and pull the older girl away. “leah just let her go please it’s fine.” you finally spoke, your voice cracking as you looked at her pleadingly.

“leah thats enough now. let her go!” kim warned seriously as leah’s eyes looked to you, softening at the pleading look on your face as she released the taller striker who immediately bent over coughing and spluttering trying to catch her breath.

“i have never been so disappointed in someone i trust and call a close friend alessia, never.” leah bent down to deliver one final blow, ignoring everyone else who shoved her away.

“we’re going, come.” leah ordered firmly, slinging an arm over your shoulder and dragging you off, your eyes meeting your girlfriends for a fleeting moment as she sat on the ground drinking water before you turned the corner and she was gone.

“would you like to tell me what that was about now please?” your sister asked much more calmly as she pulled into the driveway of your shared flat, the drive home being filled with a suffocating and uncomfortable silence as leah tried to calm herself down.

"you shouldn't have done that." was all you responded with a shake of your head, unbuckling yourself and hastily exiting her car. with a sigh leah did the same, unlocking the car after her and following you inside your shared home.

"shouldn't have stuck up for you? tough luck kid, that's my job." leah warned, following you to your bedroom and sticking her foot in the door as you tried to close it. "just leave me alone." you mumbled into your pillow as you belly flopped into your bed.

"come on. we both know alessia and no matter how much i want to go back and yell at her some more that was out of character for her even after a loss. so what happened?" leah sat down on the edge of your bed, poking at you until you smacked her hands away with a huff and rolled onto your back, covering your face with your arms.

"she asked me to move in with her before the game and i said no." you mumbled quietly, leah pausing for a second to make sure she heard you correctly.

"right, i see." leah nodded slowly. "it doesn't at all excuse how she treated you and i'm still angry with her. but why did you say no?" your sister finished more softly, tapping your leg as you shuffled over and she laid down beside you.

"well cause you need me here, that's the whole reason i moved out of my place and in with you anyway when my lease ended." you quickly excused as leahs head swiveled sideways with a raised eyebrow. "you do! you can't cook, you don't clean, you never go shopping, you-" you started to list things off.

"okay okay no. i can cook, i can clean, i can go shopping. and as for what i know is coming next i don't need you like that anymore. you've been there for me through all of this and through rehab and my surgery but i'm coming out the other side now, i can do things for myself and i've missed that independance." leah smiled sadly, knowing that wasn't the real reason you'd said no.

"plus you hate living with me we argue like twenty two hours of the day." your sister playfully shoved your head making you roll your eyes. "i don't hate it." you mumbled with a sigh. "what's the real reason? no bullshit. you know i can see through you when you lie anyway!" leah pointed out truthfully as you again shrugged and stated it was nothing.

"right, you leave me no choice then." leah grunted as she pulled herself into a sitting position and you gave her a weird look. "what?" you questioned.

"if you won't tell me the truth then i guess we have to do the lie detector like when we were little." leah sighed as your eyes widened and you tried to roll off the bed but your sister was too fast.

"leah no!" you grunted as she sat on top of you and pinned your arms under her knees. "you want to live with me instead of your girlfriend? lie!" leah yelled, poking her bony fingers into your ribs and making you wheeze and struggle to shove her off.

"you told her no because of me? lie!" she yelled again and continued as you furiously tried to push her away. "okay okay fine! get off me and get those bony little sausages away from me." you huffed as she finally let you up, collapsing back down beside you.

"god you're the worst." you groaned, bruises more than likely already forming from the assault. "that sounds like a lie?" leah half sat up as you hurriedly pushed her away making her laugh.

"so, why'd you tell her no then? the truth."

"i'm scared." you admitted, burying your face in your hands in embarrassment. "of what? that girl looks at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky, its quite sickening really." leah sighed wrenching your hands away.

"well we obviously got together during the euros, then she went back to manchester and i came back to london. we made that work, didn't see each other every day of course but still stayed strong and together." you started as leah hummed.

"then we went to the world cup together, that was fine, things were good. again, with training schedules and room assignments we still had time together and separate." you continued.

"then she moved to arsenal, and of course to london. we see each other all the time, we actually get to have date nights and our time together is just as meaningful as when we were doing distance only this time its so much easier." you sighed, leah still nodding along.

"but we're still able to have time apart. if we move in together we'll see each other at training and at games and then we'll come home and be together like all day every day. i don't want her to get sick of me or for us to fight more or well you know..." you trailed off again burying your face in your hands.

"break up?" leah winced, knowing exactly why this was a fear of yours given its exactly what had happened to her and jordan, something she had seemingly been a little too honest with you about.

"yeah." you sighed, dragging your hands down your face with a huff. "but all i said was no and then she got called away for the game and then we lost and well you already know the rest." leah nodded, a silence falling between the two of you.

before either of you could break it there was a few knocks at the door. "i'll get it." your sister stood up, leaving you behind to wallow in your pity as she pulled open the door, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the blonde before her.

"hi leah." alessia mumbled, nervously playing with her hands as the older blondes features hardened. "is she here?" your girlfriend asked quietly, leah just staring her down silently. "leah i am so sorry for what i said, i didn't mean a word of it but i need to let her know that please." alessia begged, leah's jaw clenching.

"wait here." and with that the door closed right back into the strikers face.

"it's less." leah leaned in the door frame of your bedroom with her arms crossed as you sat right up. "wait! are you sure? you don't want to give it a little bit of time?" your sister hinted blocking your door. "no i don't. leah i love you and i know you mean well and you will always be my big bad scary sister. but you owe her an apology as well, think it over." you patted her shoulder and ducked under her arm.

your sister giving you your space headed to her own room, though not before giving alessia a very stern glare as you took a deep breath and opened the door.

"hey." "hi." "could i please come in?" you moved aside to let her in, the two of you moving to the living room and taking a seat on the lounge, leaving a fair space between you both.

"i'm really sorry- "i am so sorry-"

you both stopped and shared a small smile, faces both flushed bright red as you nodded for alessia to start.

"so i very obviously owe you an apology. i-look it's not an excuse by any means but i was so confused and frustrated with you saying no and then we lost and i played terribly. i was just...angry and hurt and i lashed out at you which was so unfair." alessia sighed, rubbing her cheeks with her hands.

"but none of what i said was true or right or okay. please i promise you that's not at all how i look at you or how i want you to think of yourself." she pleaded, shuffling a little closer and when you didn't move away she gently placed a hand on your knee.

"it's not. i'm not saying that what you said or how you reacted is okay but i understand you weren't thinking right. i should have recognized you needed some space to cool off before trying to push you into a conversation, and i'm sorry for that." alessia's shoulder visibly sagged in relief as your hand came to rest atop hers.

"so can i ask why you said no to moving in with me?" alessia asked, and you could easily see the disappointment she was trying to hide behind her bright blue eyes.

"when we were doing distance it was hard but it made me appreciate what time we did have together so much, and the same went during tournaments when we'd get the fleeting moments off together just the two of us to go and explore or have a coffee or even just sit and talk." you started to explain, the blonde following your every word.

"then you joined arsenal and moved to london and please i'm not saying i'm not grateful for having you so much closer and being able to see you every single day because i really am. and i know that you moving clubs was not just because of me by any means." you clarified quickly, squeezing her hand which laid dormant on your knee still.

"but i started to panic that if we already played together, trained together, did national camps together and then lived together that, well that we could fight more or you could get sick of me and we might break up and i really don't want that to happen!" you rushed out your final few sentences, afraid of what her reaction might be.

"oh love." alessia gave you a pained smile, moving her hand so that your fingers interlocked. "i could never ever get sick of you, we could spend every minute of every day together for the rest of my life and i would die a very happy woman." she pressed a few soft kisses to your knuckles.

"i can see why you panicked i probably could have started the conversation in a better way and a better time. i do really want us to move in together, but if you're not ready that's okay too." the striker promised as you nodded.

"i'm ready. i love you, but we have to make sure we work on our communication and our trust so that things like this don't happen again." you answered gently as your girlfriend eagerly agreed.

"and if you ever speak to me like that again i won't need leah because i'll knock you out myself." you warned, a smile curling onto the italians lips. "no you wouldn't." she teased lightly. "no i wouldn't, but it doesn't matter because leah would have done it already for me." you added on, alessia's face paling at the thought.

"you're not wrong there." both your heads turned to see the girl in question had returned, stern look on her face. "leah." you sent her a look of your own as she sighed.

"less i'm sorry for getting physical with you but i'm not sorry for standing up for my little sister. i meant it you need to treat her with respect and i'll always be here to remind you if you forget again." your sister warned as alessia nodded furtively and you sighed with a shake of your head.

"you say little as if i'm not only two years younger lee." you groaned as the blonde shrugged, sending alessia one last look and a nod before wandering off to the kitchen. "so we're okay?" your girlfriend asked nervously, taking your hands back into hers.

"yeah we are. i love you." you smiled softly, leaning in to kiss her sweetly, pulling away too soon for the blondes liking as she used your intertwined hands to tug your mouth back to meet hers. until a pillow smacked both of you in the side of the head.

"nah there is to be no making out on my sofa!"

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #woso imagine #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso #leah williamson #alessia russo #woso fanfics

988 notes · View notes