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#I'm sure something like this has been done before but whatever

batmanisagatewaydrug · 2 days

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The shorter version: Hey could you talk about stone tops more? Or anything like that, people who like giving but not recieving?

The longer version: I’m sort of going through that process of self discovery, I’ve been meaning to ask about it somehow- basically I am sexually attracted to people (I think??), I get aroused, I enjoy masturbating, even talking with my partner about stuff we could do is arousing to me. I enjoy some submissive kinky stuff. Hell, my boyfriend (transmasc, both of us are) recently let me go down on him and it was like a fucking religious experience, I LOVED it, but I find it really difficult to enjoy anything being done directly to /my/ genitals. Like, I can feel the sensations, and they feel good, but I don’t build any arousal, like I can’t get in the mood? I know I’m not, but I do feel fucked up and broken. Spiritually, I want my boyfriend to rail me into next week, but physically I’m afraid there’s like. Something wrong with me, like,, I don’t work??? Idk. I’ve got major anxiety, I’ve got dysphoria, I guess I always figured it was one of those things. There’s only so many times I can feel Way Too Seen by fanfiction about Noted Asexual, Archivist Jonathan Sims before I start to wonder what exactly they’ve hit directly on the head, if that makes sense. I’m not asking you to Diagnose Me Asexual lmaoo but I was wondering about more like… asexual adjacent things? My boyfriend suggested I look into “service top” too. I… don’t feel like a top? I’m very submissive. But I’ve heard it’s not always top= dom, bottom=sub… how can I be a submissive top?

Sorry this is… so much. It’s really been weighing on me. Even if you don’t feel up to answering this I thank you profusely for the sex ed content you’ve been posting lately. Demystifying sex and promoting sexual health is so incredibly important, and even just what I’ve read from you makes a difference in the agency I feel over my sex life.

hi anon,

weeeeeee!!! this is a fun one.

so, first off, I'm just gonna throw this out there: liking the idea of something - for instance, your boyfriend railing you into next week - is not an innate sign that that's something you'd like in real life. I'll jack off to the idea of getting railed like Thomas the Tank Engine, sure, but in real life vaginal penetration has never felt like much of anything to me + I haaaaAAAAaaaate the idea of doing anything with even a teeny tiny slight chance of getting me pregnant. some stuff is fine to stay in the brain!

if you do ever decide to tentatively explore it with your bf, that's also fine and wonderful, but let's focus on what we know about your likes right now. you don't want to get fucked (awesome) but you like going down (also awesome). none of that means you are or aren't asexual, btw, there are loads of asexuals in the world who love to get railed and hate going down and also feel every possible way about every other possible array of sex acts. you're only asexual if you want to be, keep that in mind.

you're also only stone or a service top or whatever else if you want to be. words exist to be useful, not as an innate ontological truth to discover within yourself. personally I think it's waaaaay more important for people to refine their sense of likes, dislikes, communication, and boundary-setting than finding the exact right word for their particular cup of tea.

as long as we're talking about terminology, let's get into dom/sub and top/bottom. you're absolutely correct that they're not interchangeable, whatever the hooligans on various hellsites would have you believe. dom and sub are terms for power exchange play, when two people enact a power differential in which one partner is consensually given a great deal of control over the other, be it physically, psychologically, financially, or what have you. top/bottom simply refer to who is acting vs who is being acted upon during a sexual act; while some people identify intensely as either a top or a bottom, it's also a simple matter for those roles to switch on a dime depending on what kind of sex you're into. it's completely possible to have sex without designating anyone the top or bottom, and I'd argue that most people have sex without there actually being a dom or sub involved.

so can dom bottom, or a sub top? of course; people can mix and match whatever pieces of sexuality they want in their own explorations. a dom can boss their sub around like a little servant, giving them extremely detailed instructions about exactly how to rail them, and perhaps punish them (in the fun consensual way, obviously) if they fail to meet those expectations and don't get their dom off the way that was wanted. you can, and I cannot possibly emphasize this enough, do whatever you want forever.

a service top, incidentally, is generally considered a separate thing from a dom (which is not to say they can't overlap!) in that a service top isn't always dominating, but is topping because they enjoy getting their partner off in whatever way they like. the overlap of service tops and folks who are stone is notable!

in your particular case I would recommend not worrying so much about which of these terms, if any, are the correct one for you and focus way ore on exploring and playing with your partner to find a rhythm that works well for the two of you. doms, subs, tops, and bottoms all have something useful to teach people about how they like intimacy, but there's no rush to figure out which category, if any, you fit in. just focus on what's fun and feels good to you and toss the rest.

#sex edventures 2024

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beg-for-us · 2 days

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this is gonna be more of a pretty serious ramble about my sexuality than a hornypost

so, like, I'm asexual. Sexual images don't turn me on. But like, when I was 16 I discovered masturbation and how good it feels, and I quickly found out that I find some kinks pretty exciting. But I notice that I seem to have pretty strong post nut clarity.

Some time later I do some overthinking and realise I like CNC and being submissive and all bc it's thrilling. The same way many people find a good action movie thrilling. But like, I still masturbate about kinky fantasies.

Today, normal me and horny me basically have totally different desires.

Like, when I'm horny I yearn to be dominated and wish I had a partner and think about ordering sex toys, edging, etc. and "training" myself into the perfect toy/pet/whatever. But when the post nut clarity hits I don't want any of that and I realize how irrational it is and how to a certain degree porn has brainwashed me into being into some weird degrading shit.

And I just don't know what to do, tbh.

Like one moment I'm fine, have normal life goals etc. and the next moment I just wanna be someone's little denied pet that gets forged into whatever my owner wants and all thar horny shit.

And then I cum and feel horrible and become really rational and really hate my horny side.

And no, I don't "secretly crave it" whenever I'm not horny. I'm legit kinda terrified of how I don't seem to have full control over such desires and it's also kind of fascinating how I can have desires that just go radically against my rational thinking and common sense.

Idk, just felt like venting and like, asking, maybe you have some advice? Any comment? idk

If it means anything to my credibility here, I'm actually ace/aro myself and know a lot about where you're coming from with that, from personal experience.

I fully agree with the thing about porn. I think most people realize that it's not at all a reflection about what actual sex is like, but I'm not entirely sure to what extent people understand that it's basically all fake.

I've been part of the BDSM community basically since I turned 18, so that's almost 7 years now, and I promise that people in the real world are absolutely nothing like what you see in porn, or even people on the online BDSM community. Honestly, it just sounds to me like no one's ever let you know what the reality of those communities is like, so I'm gonna try my best to explain at least from my experience.

If it helps, the reason that most people will refer to BDSM stuff as a 'scene' is because everyone involved is aware that it's pretty much just acting. Like, people who do pet play are aware they're not actually dogs, it just gets them off to be treated like it. People who like slave/master stuff are aware that the person who's the 'master' in the scene does actually view the other person as an equal once the scene ends. CNC is fully consentual, and when done properly, has a safe word.

When I first started out, it was made very, incredibly clear to me that in any kink space, you're gonna spend a lot of time just talking. Before any scene, you talk about what your boundaries are. You talk about a safe word. You talk about what kind of things you do want to happen, and what kind of things you specifically don't want to happen.

I think maybe what you're lacking is aftercare. I primarily dom, so I can't speak from any sort of personal experience as a sub, but I have spoken to people who sub before who've expressed similar thoughts. Aftercare isn't just bringing bottled water, patching up bruises, and taking a shower. It also involves both parties talking about what just happened, if any boundaries were accidentally crossed, if something happened that they didn't know they liked/didn't know they wouldn't like, etc. Any degradation should be met with an equal amount of praise. Subs and pets get gently brought out of that headspace and back to reality. Aftercare like that is especially important for harder things like CNC, I literally can't imagine being a dom or sub in a CNC scene and not having like a talk afterwards, where you reassure the sub that you value their consent, and you reassure the dom that they didn't cross any lines, etc.

And I hate the 'secretly crave it' type shit too. No, not everyone wants to be kept as a pet 24/7. Not everyone wants to keep a pet 24/7. People who are into CNC aren't going around secretly wishing for something non-consentual.

Idk, my two cents is that some people require more aftercare than others, and you definitely sound like you would benefit from more aftercare. There's absolutely nothing wrong with wanting weird shit during sex, but it's always good to get that reassurance immediately after as well, yk?

This is a link to a reddit post about self-aftercare. Maybe give some of these ideas a try, a lot of them seem like they'd be pretty helpful.

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arip8228 · 1 year

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Lucy: And yeah that's why I left home and never intend on going back- wait. Where are you going?

Lockwood: Where did you used to live again? The exact address is fine.

Lucy: LOCKWOOD NO

Lockwood: LOCKWOOD YES

#What do you mean this didn't happen #I actually am Jonathan Stroud and this is canon #I'm sure something like this has been done before but whatever #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood & co

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lucalicatteart · 1 year

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Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 8: !!NOTE: this is different from the past polls - rather than choosing a story action, you're picking supplies to craft a little makeshift boat (EX: wood will be the main platform, so there should likely be the most of it, however, if there were 100% votes for branches and 0% votes for rope, then it'd just be a pile of wood held together by nothing - keep them balanced reasonably, etc.))

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

The winning option of yesterday's poll was that the adventurer should get around the barrier by crafting a little boat to take a river detour….

Finally crawling out of his hiding spot in the brambles, he meticulously brushes the leaves from his clothes and composes himself, now fully focused on his generic traveler's map of the area... After checking it about 500 times just to make sure he isn't confused, he determines that going down the nearby river would likely still get him where he's trying to go, and hopefully be much less treacherous than wandering through haunted forests or confronting the stern gaze of the barrier guards..

It only takes about 10 minutes of following a narrower rocky path off the main road to reach a nice shaded spot of land next to a small river. He kneels in the grass, eagerly rummaging through his backpack for supplies, in addition to whatever he can scavenge from the edge of the woods. The rush of excitement slowly dissipates however, once he realizes that he.. actually.. might not know how to make a raft as well as he thought... Surely it's quite straightforward, no? Just.. make it look like it does in picture books?? There are no rules, as long as it floats, it works! Probably anyone could build one on intuition alone! ... maybe...???

.. Once again sinking into a cloud of anxiety, he slumps over, staring at the pile of materials with teary eyes, doubtful what to even do next.... How should he build the raft? Help him by using the poll to choose the appropriate amounts of materials (determined by final % of votes in that category)!

#paventure posting #polls #choose your own adventure #Hopefulyl this isnt confusing or anything?? I know it's different than the other ones. and I wont do them this way #very often or maybe not ever again. I just wanted something that was really short and easy since the last two has #*had such long explanation text and more effort going into like what different paths there could be and etc.#Since before I add a poll option I make sure that it's something that could actually be followed to it's logical conclusion and like #actually happen (like I didn't include 'fight the guards' in the last poll because obviously just realistically he would lose #and be sent to whatever this worlds version of jail is and then probably the story would end lol. It could then become about #strategizing a way to break him out like.. obviously you can still do something with that and it can still be interesting lol. but I just #mean it kind of derails things a little too heavily. if that makes sense. etc. etc.). But becaue I've been busier lately and since #the last ones were more detailed I just wanted to think of like.. a really quick goofy one with simple choices #So instead of dictating new story paths - for this time it's just .. help him build his raft that he needs to complete the last story #path that was chosen. By picking an option you're kind of adding to the amount of that option being done #if that makes sense. so for example if at the end of the poll it was 100% votes for flowers - he would just have a pile of flowers #with no raft or anything. If it was 100% wood - he would just have a pile of tree branches held together with nothing #etc. etc. Ideal measurements are probably at least over 50% wooden branches. and whatever of anything else.#As long as there's also rope lol. 50% branches and 50% flowers still wouldn't be anything really jhhj #ANYWAY..#Though it could go wrong I'm actually not expecting some sort of weird result. most people have voted very reasonably so far #and are not like trying to sabotage him or anything or choose the weirder choices. Like last time there werent that many #votes for sneaking around the barrier or trying to bribe the guards. I think people chose stuff they thought he could reasonably do #Maybe they want to see him and the little cat succeed in their endeavors #Though there was one person who reblogged a poll once saying something like 'everyone lets make him EVIL!'#which is also valid lol

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teaboot · 1 month

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This is gonna sound rather conceited but I feel like it highlights an issue we have in Art.

I'm good at art. I've never had a hard time making art. I started using crayons before I could walk. Painting, Beadwork, sculpture, sketching, stippling, whatever- once I have a feel for the material, it doesn't take long to start doing what I want with it. It's been a common theme my whole life.

(Y contrast I'm awful at things like dancing, performance, sports, etc- in all things there is balance, right?)

Now, I've taught myself to use so many artistic mediums now that I KNOW how to most efficiently integrate them into the brain database. Once you really *understand* a material, it's much like memorizing the layout of your house, or flexing a muscle, or something in-between- it becomes PART of your brain in a way I cant quite articulate. But to get there involves just fucking around for a bit doing nothing in particular.

And I've found, especially in group settings, that nobody seems to be able to see you make something badly and leave you alone. Even if you say you're fine, you don't want help, you're happy, you're having fun, it's fine, they gotta ride your ass and hover.

I was at a class the other day for something I hadn't done before. The medium was one I've never used, so once the instructor told us the basics I started experimenting with weight, gravity, texture, viscosity, saturation, temperature, etc. The instructor had given enough info to know what was dangerous and what was safe, and beyond that I just wanted to absorb what I could about it.

And no insult to the instructor, but they kept checking in. Which was fine the first few times.

But then, without asking me what I was trying to do, started giving tips. That I told them I was grateful for but didn't really need just yet. If I had a question, I'd ask.

But they kept coming over. And touching my shit. And manipulating my project. And touching my hands. And using my tools. Without fucking asking.

And this happens every time. EVERY TIME. And by now I know the best way to get them to fuck off is to make something way beyond their expectations so they know I'm capable, then go back to doing what I want.

So I did. I wanted to keep having fun and learning, but instead I made something beautiful that I really didn't want to make, and wasted my time, and really didn't learn what I wanted to learn at all. I knew the formula to create a beautiful thing, so I followed that formula the same way I have a hundred times before, and didn't get to try anything spontaneous or ugly or exciting, just so I could be left alone.

And I know when I was a kid, I was aware aware people saw me puttering alone on something ugly assumed I had a special issue and treated me like I was stupid because of that. (I was neurodivergent.) And at at time I knew that I could do a neat trick for them like a trained pony and they'd go, "Oh, surely they aren't defective if they can do something like that!" And piss off.

But what if I hadn't known how to do that?

What if I hadn't been talented, or "special"?

What if I'd been just any other average kid trying to learn, and I couldn't pop something pretty out of my ass to get them off my back?

My problem my whole life has been that I haven't been allowed to make anything ugly in peace. I'm capable of beauty, so I have to make beauty, or get stepped on. And once people see what I can do, they get loud about it. "Look at this! Look what they did! We all know who the best is, don't we?". And that used to feel good, but it's tiring.

And how many people like me just wanted to play? Just wanted to have fun and experiment? Who were having fun with no goal in mind, or just took longer to learn, who gave up because of all the obnoxious helpers breathing down their neck with no way to shake them off?

How many of us are made to feel defective because we aren't doing things beautifully?

I have a lovely piece of art I didn't want to make.

I think I'm gonna frame it.*

(*I think I'm gonna burn it in my yard.)

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femonologue · 2 months

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Many years ago, I was wandering around downtown Ottawa with my best friend. We ran into a friend of his who offered us some hash (it sucked), then said there was a really good house party nearby if we wanted to go. We were like, yeah, sure. So that's how we ended up at some completely fucking random person's house.

I look around to ask if my friend knows anyone here and he's simply gone, as is his friend. And this isn't some red solo cup hangout; this is a party. There's people counting out pills on the kitchen counter. I am clearly neither as cool nor as drug-savvy as the kitchen people, so I back away and instead wander aimlessly into the living room, which seems to give off more of a chill vibe.

A bunch of people are seated in a circle on the floor. One of them is fiddling with a big wad of newspaper or something. A really cute grunge girl with piercings and tattoos scoots aside to make room for me, so I sit down.

"What's that," I ask her, gesturing at the newspaper wad.

She gets a really big smile on her face. You know the smile. It's the I'm About To Watch This Innocent Soul Get High As Fuck smile. "You've never smoked a tulip?"

"What's a tulip?" I ask.

"It's like if a joint was also a bong," she replies. "You gotta try it."

"Alright," I reply, a little uncertainly. This will not be my first encounter with weed. I am more comfortable with the janky newspaper bong than I am with whatever the fuck is going on in the kitchen. Besides, this girl is really cute and I would like to have a friend here now that my existing friend has turned into vapor or been transported to the Upside-Down or whatever the hell happened to him.

I watch as one person holds the newspaper joint-bong upright and holds a lighter over the top while another gets beneath it, tilting their head back to take a puff. Apparently smoking this Cheech & Chong monstrosity is a two-person job.

"Oh," I say, looking at the fist-sized knob at the top of the wonky newspaper joint. "Yeah, it does kinda look like a tulip." Grunge girl smiles at me.

I watch as the tulip is passed around the circle, along with the lighter, and hits are cooperatively taken. It reaches grunge girl, who takes a huge puff and holds it for an extended moment before exhaling an impressive blast of smoke. She smiles expectantly and holds the tulip up for me, preparing to spark the gigantic meteor of dank that makes up its tip. By this point I have completely forgotten about my missing friend. I only care about making a good impression on grunge girl. I tilt my head back and hit the tulip like a smokestack.

It is the following morning. I am sleeping between a couch and a wall. I'm not positive that this is the same house I was just in. My memories are gone. Someone is yelling at me: "dude! Dude! Wake up, dude!"

I sit up. My mouth tastes like cigarettes. I do not smoke cigarettes. "Wha," I ask the yelling man, who I am quite confident I have never met before in my life.

"We're going on a quest," he tells me, gravely. "You have to come with us."

I look around. Neither my friend nor his friend are anywhere in sight. I also do not see grunge girl anywhere. I shrug helplessly. "Okay."

We embark from this house. I learn that the destination of this quest is Tim Horton's. This is a relief to me, as coffee and a donut sounds really fucking good right now. Somehow, the route to Tim Horton's takes us past the Governor-General's residence, which everyone else in the group loudly heckles on the way past. I do not know what the Governor-General has done to raise their ire, nor do I particularly care. I trudge along with my hands in my pockets, pleased to note that I still have my wallet, phone, and keys. I fervently wish that I could remember anything about last night. Maybe I talked to grunge girl. Maybe she's why my mouth tastes like cigarettes. The tulip tasted nothing like cigarettes.

I am asked about my politics. I voice my frustrations with corporate corruption, the pay-to-win electoral system, the lack of transparency and accountability. This is met with great approval. The guy who was yelling at me claps me on the back. I get the impression that we became friends last night. I don't recognize his face. I do not know his name and he definitely does not know mine. I behave as though we're friends anyway. We are comrades on a quest.

By the time we make it to Tim Hortons, the gaggle of stoners I'm walking with have all run out of energy and/or attention span. People order snacks and break away in pairs or solo, to call for rides or plan the day's events or just vegetate and wait for the drugs to leave their systems. I look around and find that my nameless friend has also gone to the Upside-Down. As I wash the cigarette taste out of my mouth with coffee, I unsuccessfully try to remember whether I saw grunge girl smoking tobacco at any point. I remember nothing. That tulip was so fucking powerful that it instantly sent me a whole day forward in time.

Alone in the city, I try to call my best friend and get no answer. I walk to the nearest bus stop, catch a bus most of the way home, and call up my parents to ask for a ride back. They ask where my friend is. I tell them that I have no idea; we went to a house party and I don't remember anything else.

When they pick me up from the bus station, they ask me some very safe, nonspecific questions, and seem to relax when I describe what little I can remember. It isn't until years later that I realize they were probably terrified I'd gotten rufied or something, and were so relieved to learn otherwise that they didn't even bother chiding me for smoking myself unconscious in an effort to impress a strange woman. In any case, they were probably happy to find out that I did, in fact, like girls; I suspect they had been privately wondering whether I was gay.

After getting home, I finally manage to get my best friend to answer his phone. I discover that he tried the kitchen pills, spent most of the night crossing the entire city on foot, and crashed at his cousin's house. He sounds like shit. I tell him that he should have tried the tulip, instead. He fervently agrees with me.

I never see grunge girl again.

That's okay, though. She got to see a clueless stranger get fucked the entire way up on some ungodly strain of giga-weed, and I got smiled at by a cute girl, and then I got to go on a quest. Wherever grunge girl is, I hope she's happy. I hope she's smoking the fattest fucking blunt and smiling as some kid passes out behind a couch.

#I have no idea what to tag this. if you need me to tag it as something just tell me I guess

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moondirti · 15 days

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ghoap x nanny! reader / 18+ / previous ft. surveillance. handjobs. voyeurism. mild s/m. dirty talk.

They check up on you when they can.

Price wasn't exaggerating when he doled out the mission details. It's a tough one. Grueling. The type that necessitates four flights a week and days of little to no sleep, the men fuelled on nothing but a snow-balling urgency to get it done. The target is a slippery fuck, with connections that transport him across the globe at the first sign of conflict. They come close to apprehending him only once, and nothing comes of it but the exacerbated threat of nuclear war as the bastard starts to squeak like a cornered mouse. Gaz has a near constant migraine. Soap stops being fun around the two week mark, exhaustion slowing his tongue. Ghost grows more unhinged with his kills, punching blades through the throats of anyone who dares get in their way.

But still, they check on you.

Isla occupies a quarter of their headspace at all times; half when they don't have to dedicate their focus to the operation. It's the longest they've ever spent away from their girl, the withdrawals hitting them like a bag of bricks. They do whatever's necessary, then, to tune into the nanny cams they have set up around the house, lest Johnny cries about the way her hands dimple when she uncurls a fist again. Or worse – before Simon forgets what tethers him to humanity.

They find the two of you are always doing something.

Which isn't a surprise. You had mentioned your background in early childhood education; they just thought that it'd been a device to impress them. But it's clear that you're eager to put your degree to use when they see you setting up yet another enrichment activity for their daughter and encouraging her to engage.

The first time, they had just arrived on base. It'd been five hours since they've seen you last and already, Johnny had pulled his phone to log onto the monitoring app he had installed.

Sure enough, you were in the same overalls they saw you in last, Isla changed into a fresh pair of pyjamas after her bath. You had her set on her play mat, but replaced the dangling toys for newer, more colourful ones. As she reached for them, you would sound out the shade in a high-pitched voice and grin excitedly when she'd babble back, as if aaaah! meant green.

He felt his heart tug something fierce, caught between endearment and unease at missing out, before getting dressed for debrief.

The third time, you let them know you could tell when the nanny cam is in active use. Not accusatorially, of course – it unfolded in a way too innocent to be anything but a whammy on their part.

They were in a humvee on exfil after being ambushed by the local army – soldiers with blood money lining their pockets, tasked with dispatching the bloodhounds that keep sniffing their patron's trail. Simon had watched a little boy get caught in the crossfire and decided it was imperative to check if Isla was okay, despite her being hundreds of miles away and off anyone's radar.

You're the first thing he saw, carrying the weight of a huge plastic storage container filled with water. In it, there were several rubber animals that inspired a fit of squeals somewhere off screen. You had laughed, a little out of breath, and he remembers the relief that flooded his chest at the dual sounds. Like the cold lick of waves across scorching sand.

As you'd passed by the camera, you stopped and crouched so your face would be in view.

"Isla likes splashing around in the water. I'm thinking of getting her a paddling pool." And you lifted the container as if you would ever need to justify the way you take of their daughter. "Hope you guys are well."

Johnny murmured from beside him. "Forgot aboot th' status light."

The seventh– ninth– maybe twelfth time (having lost count), it was just in time to catch you on your way out with Isla in tow.

They'd tuckered down in a shitty motel, awaiting the next word from Laswell, all four of them in one room. Gaz had been given the bed as consolation for the torn tendon in his knee, and Price had claimed the couch with nothing more than a growl about his back needing it. Thus, Ghost and Soap found themselves on the floor, the latter man tucked under his partner's arm, the other occupied with checking in on the porch feed. The time difference made it so that it was midday where you were.

You were dressed – and Simon recalls it as clearly as the day you met – in a green wrap skirt and tulip hat, their darling girl in a shade of pink that complimented its petals, sat on your hip as you struggled with her buggy. They forgot to give you the run down on unfolding it before they left, too overwhelmed with everything else to pay mind to the little things.

Johnny had jumped for the two-way talk function immediately, tapping on the little mic before clearing his throat.

"There's a latch under th' left arm. Flip it 'n' it shuid unfold automatically."

You jumped, pausing to face the porch cam with wide eyes. "Oh– Oh my god. Haha," Following his directions, you were able to get it open with little fuss. "that is so embarrassing. Pretend you never saw that."

Simon had his balaclava on, uncomfortable with going bare-faced in an unfamiliar room, but Johnny still felt the soft smile splitting his cheeks. Its warmth was unmistakable.

"Nonsense, lass. 'twas cute."

You bloomed at that, wiggling a little in place. Though the flustered moment hadn't lasted long, for Isla's mouth fell open at the recognition of her father's voice, chubby hand reaching out in its direction.

"Bldha! Pffffpp."

"That's right, baby! That's Da." You waddled closer to have her inspect the strange contraption hooked above their mailbox, turning your attention back to them. "We're going on a narration walk! Isla's gotten so good at recognising animals because of them. But it was so nice to hear from you. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

"Gah!"

Simon locked the phone when neither of them could muster a response, emotion rushing their throats like white-river rapids. Hot tears seep into his side, a pair of misty eyes buried in his ribs.

"I know. I know, Johnny. S'alright. We'll see 'er again soon."

Now, he's made good on his promise.

All three rogue missiles located and dismantled in record time, meaning their slimy target could no longer use them as a shield. He'd been in shackles within the next day, wrangled somewhere in Istanbul and shipped off to a maximum security prison in The Hague. The task force left no loose thread untugged, which took an extra day but will be worth it in the long run. Price promises to reward them with a round, on him.

They're on their way back to base when Johnny tunes in a final time.

He's sure that Isla is asleep by now, confirmed by the baby monitor that focuses on the sprawled form in her cot. It would be best to exit the app and doze off like the other men – lord knows he needs it – but he can't help the itch to look for you too. To click through every channel, his curiosity unquenched, until–

Ah. There.

On the couch, bare legs stretched out along its length. A throw blanket tangled between them, one bent at the knee to support the book you're currently fingering through. The sight alone is enough to make him salivate.

But then he notices the thin material of your top.

Practically translucent. No doubt made for bed. You aren't wearing a bra, either, and the darker shade of your nipples practically flaunts itself through the fabric. They're too soft to protrude and cast a shadow on your breasts, but he's still able to get a good impression of what you would look like nude. Some part of him wilts with guilt at the shameless voyeurism he's subjecting you to.

Another part sends blood to the weight between his legs.

"Bleedin' Christ."

"Hm?" Simon grunts, disturbed by the restless pace of Johnny's heart. His head lifts off his shoulder, blinking warily to clear the silky gossamer of sleep threading his eyelids, before focusing on the grainy footage on his partner's screen.

"Ghost." He whines, hips bucking in desperation when the larger man does nothing. They haven't had the chance to relieve themselves since that night at the motel, and even then it had been a messy frotting as they tried not to disturb their sleeping comrades.

"A'right. Off to the bathroom with you, then."

He doesn't turn off of the live feed even as they cram into the compact space. Though he should. He needs to. Not because you're aware of their surveillance – you're far too engrossed in your book to pay mind to the blinking red light on the nanny cam. But because only depraved men gets off to unsuspecting hens, especially the ones they hired in good faith to take care of their child while they're away.

It's a dirty, dirty thrill that roars through him as Simon wraps an arm around his waist, palming his hard-on through his trousers. And it's a dirty thrill he wants no part of.

"Practically leakin' in your pants, boy. First time you see a pair of tits?" In the small mirror before him, he watches his pants get pulled down past his ass, underwear stained a deeper swatch of blue where his tip spits prespend.

It might as well be the first time, way he's humping Simon's hand like an over-eager mutt. Though he can't manage to choke it out through the rough groans pressing his vocal chords. Instead, what escapes him is a pathetic mess of trembling letters. "S'not... fookin, not– not–"

"Shhh, it's okay. She's jus' so pretty, yeah? Can't help but chub up and beg me to rub your aching cock, wishing it was her darlin' hand wrapped 'round you instead. I know."

"Nn, nae, Sim- Si– I wouid never... Ah!"

It's dry. A little raw. He makes no effort to lube his calloused palm to help it glide easier along Johnny's length, but he knows his boy better than he knows himself sometimes. That he needs pain when he's doing something bad like this, or else he'll lose himself to the guilt. A little bit of penance for the Catholic.

"Don' lie to me. Y'can't. But tha's alright," He pulls the foreskin off the head of his uncut mass, kneading a bit into his frenulum to watch the way white oozes against red. "I think about it too."

"A-Aye?"

"Hm. Think 'bout ya swallowing my cock while I sit 'er on my face. Bet she tastes sweet, like nectar. Jus' look at the thing." Which he does. You're seated a bit differently than you had been before. Less liberal. Wound up tight, with your nose buried in your book and your toes curled beneath your feet. Surely captured by some tense plot line or the other. "Would make you clean her cunt after I pump 'er full. Or vice versa, if she's into tha'."

"Yer a-aff yer heid... Fuck, I cannae–"

"That's it, Johnny. Let go, boy." Simon's strokes keep at the top, tugging in short, rough movements over the phone. The blanket now covers you fully, but it's no matter. The image of your breasts are now seared into both their minds, an array of fantasies unfurling before them, each nastier than the last. "Jus' like that."

Thick ropes of cum streak over the screen and sink countertop. It's weeks worth of pent up frustration, a culmination of despair and desire as a stuttered moan claws up Johnny's throat. The hand leaves his cock only when he starts shooting blanks, clenching tight at the overstimulation.

Simon makes him lick the mess off his palm.

(And unbeknownst to them, they'd hit the mic on their way to the bathroom.

You'd heard the whole thing.)

#oops!#my finger slipped #ghoap x reader #ghoap #simon ghost riley x reader x johnny soap mactavish #fic ༄ miss magic #call of duty #ghost x soap #simon riley x reader x john mactavish #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley x john mactavish #simon ghost riley x johnny soap mactavish #simon 'ghost' riley x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish #simon 'ghost' riley x johnny 'soap' mactavish #x female reader

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daycourtofficial · 18 days

Text

Cassian: the annoying brother

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 2.7k | warnings: brief mentions of alcohol, slight violence

Summary: You and Azriel are mates, but haven't told the rest of your family. Cassian is suspicious of the two of you and does whatever he can to try to rile up a newly mated Azriel or get you to accidentally let it slip.

Author's note: This has been in my drafts for AGES and I'm so glad you guys wanted it. Shout out to @lady-of-tearshed for the line about allergies.

“Azriel, you have to go.”

Your voice is soft as you lightly kick him, pushing him towards the edge of the bed. The house was still, the sky dark beyond your balcony doors. He grunts, wrapping his arms around you tight, his foot catching your bedpost, pushing against it to stay on the bed.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbles, rolling over on top of you, his wings draping across the bed. His breath tickles your ear as he has you pinned beneath him, his arms and legs circling around you. You wiggle your hand up to poke him in the side repeatedly, “you have to get up, babe.”

He huffs in your ear, “I don’t have to do anything.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, his refusal to get out of bed worsening each day. “You agreed to train the Valkyries against magic wielders today.”

“That was the old me, the new me doesn’t care.”

“That was the you from a week ago.”

“I could kick his ass.”

“Not if you stay in this bed, you can’t.”

He moaned once more into your neck as he held tightly to you before pushing off, spinning you two so you were on top of him. He closes his eyes, his head falling back dramatically on the pillow.

“Oh no, looks like there’s something keeping me from getting up. Send Cassian my regards.”

You giggle, trying to push off of him but his grip won’t budge. “As if Cassian won’t come in here the second he can’t find you in your own room.”

“Your door has a lock.”

“I know for a fact he would fly outside and fly in through my balcony doors.”

He sighs, his grip on you loosening. “Fine. Will you at least be there for family dinner tonight?”

You nod your head against him and he rolls you off of himself, slowly climbing out of the bed. He shakes his wings, stretching them out before folding them back behind himself. He leans over the bed, reaching towards you. You shuffle enough across the bed to give him access to your forehead, where he plants a swift kiss.

“It’s too early for sneaking around,” he muses, checking to make sure he didn’t leave anything he might need during training. At least, that was the excuse he gave every morning. All of his training gear was in his room - he just wanted to linger in your presence for a few more minutes.

“You agreed we’d wait a few months because you didn’t want any of your family butting in.”

You sat up on your knees, wrapping the comforter around you as you did so. You leaned up, pushing your lips out and making obnoxious kissing sounds at him until he cooperated once more. He brought his head down to you, kissing you back. He pulled back just a few inches before diving his face onto yours once more, peppering kisses across your cheeks. Despite the rising sun, it felt unbelievably warm to be wrapped up in his arms, giggling about the day ahead.

“And I bet you’re going to throw it in my face that it was my idea, hmm?” He kisses you again, “much like you have done every time I complain about sneaking out of here before anyone wakes up.”

“You know me so well.”

Cassian was walking down the hallway past your bedroom, hurriedly on his way towards training when he stopped mid step at the scent that lingered around your door. He sniffed the air, detecting both yours and Azriel’s scents. The scent was so strong it stopped him in his tracks - so distinctive. It wasn’t just individual scents, it was another scent all together.

He looked utterly ridiculous dressed in his fighting leathers, his hair in a messy bun atop his head, spinning in circles as he sniffed the air. Something was lingering, much stronger than either scent. He paused, looking at your door, listening for any noises. He glanced up and down the hallway, and after finding it empty, he pressed his ear up to the door, listening for your breathing.

You were clearly asleep, the soft slow breathing of slumber coming from you. But Azriel’s scent was quite fresh - no way it was even half an hour old. He took another inhale, this time trying to really focus on that scent he couldn’t place. He found Azriel’s night-chilled mist and cedar scent, your scent of lilacs and fresh rain, but something else-

Gods dammit.

Cassian can’t help the range of emotions that go through him at the realization his brother had been lying to him. Joy and happiness for the two of you, excitement to tell Nesta. Excited to rub it in Rhys’s dumb face that he knew you two were up to something.

And he was absolutely, completely pissed off at Azriel for keeping this from him.

Cassian watched the two of you at dinner that night, his eyes assessing every movement between the two of you. Everything seemed normal. The two of you were acting normal - the bastards, both of you. He was starting to doubt himself - the scent was nowhere to be found anymore, the two of you were acting normal, sharing jokes, telling stories about the week, laughing at whatever joke was made.

It all made him sick.

He was clutching his fork a bit too tightly when he had his opening, his moment. Everyone was focused on something Rhysand was saying, so you and Az took a moment, one stolen moment, and Cassian knew he was right.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as you gingerly caressed the black eye he had given Azriel this morning during training. He couldn't help himself - the anger he felt at not knowing such a big thing in Azriel’s life culminated in him being much more aggressive than usual, leaving Azriel a bit bloodier and more bruised than normal. Azriel had chalked it up to Nesta being gone for a few days, taking Emerie and Gwyn to the Day Court to see the pegasi with a personal tour from Helion himself.

Watching the moment end for the both of you, your hand falling back to your lap was just what Cassian needed to get his mind off of Helion flirting with his mate: a rare opportunity to annoy the ever living shit out of his brother.

And he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

“Good morning,” you chirp, walking into the foyer, smiling at Azriel and Feyre. The three of you and Cassian had plans to go shopping for Nesta, helping Cassian find the perfect gift for their mating anniversary. Nesta’s absence allowed Cassian ample time to shop for her, as well as ample time for you and Azriel to undoubtedly wrap her gift once Cassian comes to you both asking for help.

“Ah, we were just musing if any of Helion’s charms have worked on any of the Valkyries,” Feyre’s grin full of amusement at imagining her sister seeing Helion again. You quip, “I’m certain he very rarely ever hears the word ‘no’ so I’m sure he’s very happy to have Nesta so close by.”

Feyre giggles and is about to reply when Cassian’s boots can be heard stomping into the room. You turn to greet him, a snappy remark on your tongue, when he quickly bounds into the room and scoops you into his arms before turning to Azriel.

“Race ya,” is all Azriel and Feyre hear before he shoots off the balcony with you in his arms. He takes off incredibly quickly. Your hair was whipping around you - you were going to tie it back right before take off, but your inability to do so made it impossible for you to see. Cassian’s haphazard flying was making things worse - the shops in Velaris were a quick straight shot from the House of Wind, but by Cassian’s trajectory, you’d think you were following a winding river.

“Cass!” Your shouts are met with chuckles as he finally lands, a bit harsher than Azriel does, but he keeps you in his arms. Azriel and Feyre land next to you two, Azriel’s shadows crawling all over Cassian to get to you. Cassian kicks at them a little, and you swear you can almost hear a hissing sound in response.

You’re finally able to see, moving the strands of hair out of your face and coaxing some of the shadows out of the way for you to find Azriel glaring at his brother. Cassian takes no notice of his brother’s annoyance, patting your leg before gently setting you down.

You reach out trying to stabilize yourself, a bit woozy from the ridiculous flight. Azriel’s eyes roamed over you as his arm reached out so you could hold on. Feyre looks between the two brothers, unsure of what’s going on. You laugh to diffuse the tension, “that was a fun ride, Cassian.”

He winks, “I’m always a fun ride.”

Feyre laughs, slapping his bicep, but you feel Azriel go rigid beneath your hands. You send some soothing feelings down the bond, double checking that the both of you were still glamoured from anyone scenting it. Azriel breathes deeply, fighting every instinct in him to kill Cassian for putting you in such danger. His anger was on an incredibly tight tether, one he would have let erupt if it weren’t for the various bystanders around you four.

The rest of the afternoon was just as tense as the flight Cassian had taken you on. Well, Feyre and Azriel were tense. Cassian was living it up, acting as if nothing were out of the ordinary. In fact, Cassian seemed to be particularly chipper, and particularly touchy. Cassian strutted around the city with you tucked under his arm, and it was really difficult for you to keep the rage you were feeling through the bond to seep into your own mood.

The four of you meandered through: book stores, where Cassian completely ignored anything Azriel recommended, jewelry stores, where Cassian held up every piece he was considering up to you, saying “you have a similar neck to Nes.”

Azriel’s rage was palpable, almost like a fifth companion for this outing, but it became overbearing when your group headed into a bakery. Cassian would pick up the bite size cake samples and feed them to you, his fingers too close to your mouth for Azriel’s liking.

“This one’s divine,” Cassian’s voice rang out, but as he pushed the piece towards your mouth, Azriel yanked you away from him, muttering a piss poor excuse about having something important to do before flying off with you.

Dinner that night was just as atrocious as the earlier outing, despite your requests to Azriel to behave. Immediately Cassian sat in Azriel’s usual seat, and after Azriel growled at him to move, Cassian told him, “my butt’s already made a nice imprint on this chair. Do you want to sit in my butt imprint?”

Cassian knew he was being childish, but he couldn’t stop himself from wiggling into the seat further before sighing, “just the way I like it.”

Azriel began to turn before Cassian threw his arm around you, bringing you close, “besides, if I sit next to my favorite girl, maybe she’ll feed me instead.”

His wink after that almost lost him his arm. Azriel clenched his jaw, took some deep breaths like you told him to, and stalked over to Cassian’s usual seat across the table from you. He practically shook with rage the whole night, avoiding any and all conversation around the table in favor of watching Cassian continue to touch you and flirt with you all night.

He avoided Rhys and Feyre’s occasional mental taps to try to speak to him, unable to focus on anything that wasn’t you. He eventually tuned back into the conversation when Mor was discussing an atrocious outfit by one of the courtiers from Summer, stating no one could look good in such a ridiculous outfit.

“What are you talking about, I could pull it off - I look great in anything!” You laughed, eyes bright in amusement at the ridiculous description of the dress with feathers, tassels, and copious amounts of sequins.

“And nothing,” Cassian retorts, his smirk growing even larger at Azriel’s growl. You cough in a piss poor attempt to cover the noise, but everyone just looks between Azriel and Cassian, the latter staring down the former.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Your eyes widen at Azriel taking Cassian’s flirting as more than-

Oh.

“What’s wrong, Azzy?”

You start shaking your head no, trying to get Azriel to look at you, but his rage makes his focus narrow in too closely to Cassian to see the warning signs.

“Don’t you have a mate to flirt with?”

You quickly tug the bond, trying to get Azriel to look at you, but it was too late. Cassian smirks, having finally gotten the upper hand on Azriel. Cassian leans in closer to the table, his eyes on Azriel as he asks, “don’t you?”

Azriel pales, surprised at Cassian’s deception. The room is completely quiet as everyone waits for Azriel’s response, but only a second passes before he lunges across the table, throttling Cassian to the floor. Chairs scrape as everyone rushes to pull them apart, save for Amren remaining seated and sipping from her wine glass.

“After I kill you with my bare hands, I will ensure your grave will be covered in flowers so that your allergies will haunt you forever.”

“You bastard!”

The two are rolling around on the rug, throwing punches and insults at each other. Their wings made it impossible to know who was winning. The knocked over a few chairs, but eventually Rhys sees an opening and pulls Cassian off of Azriel. You and Feyre move to Azriel, keeping him from attacking again. Azriel is snarling in your arms, and Cassian keeps baring his teeth back at his brother.

“What is going on?”

You all still at the tone of his voice, a high lord making his dominance known. Cassian looks at Azriel, “tell them, you dumb dick.”

Azriel snarls at him, and you and Feyre quickly hold him back. His chest is heaving as he shrugs off Feyre’s hold on him but places one of his hands over yours.

“We’re-“ he looks at you, and you nod subtly, “mates. We’re mates and we kept it a secret and somehow Cassian found out.”

Azriel glares at Cassian, who glared right back.

“Why was it some secret you were keeping from me?”

“We kept it from everyone, Cass,” your soft voice did little to calm the Illyrians staring each other down.

“I thought I was your friend-“ he pointed at you, “and your brother.” He aggressively poked Azriel in the chest, and your mate deflated just a bit at how clearly hurt Cassian was. Cassian crossed his arms, looking away from you two before Azriel put a hand on his shoulder. “You know we do care about you, right?”

You step toward Cassian, wrapping him into a hug. “Cassie, we just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a bit, can you blame us? You would have gone shouting it from the rooftops as soon as we told you.”

He sighed, “I know. It just... hurt that you guys didn’t want me to know.”

You squeeze Cassian tighter before Azriel comes over, squishing you between the two of them.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Cass. It was nothing personal. Nobody knew.”

A beat passes, the warmth from being surrounded by the two Illyrians making your cheeks hot.

“How about this Cassian - if we ever want any of you guys in our bedroom, we’ll ask you first.”

Azriel growls at your joke, moving to pull away from the hug but Cassian holds on tighter.

“Deal.”

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading 💕

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #acotar writing #azriel x y/n #acotar fanfiction

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strangersteddierthings · 7 months

Text

Good People

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.

Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.

He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.

Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.

Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.

"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.

"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.

A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."

"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."

"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.

"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"

"Well, because he's your family."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."

"That's different!"

"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.

"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."

"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"

"Yes!"

"But why?" Eddie presses.

"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"

"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."

"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."

"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."

Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.

"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."

"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."

"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."

Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.

"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."

"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"

"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.

Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.

He's got some thinking to do.

#steddie #my fic #wayne munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne pov #wayne doesnt like steve and steve cannot accept that #not doing a readmore because its very short.

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 3 months

Text

He's been at Steve's house a week before he manages to gather up the courage to ask.

He shuffles into the living room, Steve's old slippers on his feet, Steve's old pajamas hanging off him. He'd lost weight in the hospital. And hadn't gained much back yet, still in too much pain to really have an appetite. But this, it needed doing. He needed it done.

"Steve?" He asks, throat clicking, voice scratchy from underuse. Steve looks away from the tv immediately, hits the mute button, eyes wide and on Eddie.

"Hey. You okay?" He asks, turning his whole body on the couch, towards Eddie, giving him his full attention.

Eddie just nods. Slowly. His eyes going unfocused, staring at the floor.

"Eddie?" And Steve's in front of him now, he hadn't even heard him get up.

"Hmm?" He hums in his throat, eyes still feeling foggy.

"Did you need something?" Steve asks, Eddie's eyes focus, the concern in Steve's voice bring him back into his body. He looks at Steve, nods, says,

"I need you to cut my hair." His lip trembles, he digs his teeth in.

"You... what?" Steve's confused. Rightfully so. Eddie swallows around the fire in his throat, tries to explain it to Steve. This thing he can barley figure out himself. Has a half formed idea at best. He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, Steve steps a little closer.

"It's just- it keeps- I keep laying on it. And it... pulls. And I'm sleeping and it pulls and I wake up and I can't breathe and it's-" he inhales, sharp and shakey and then Steve is there, his hands on Eddie's shoulders.

"Okay. It's okay. I'll do it. Whatever you want Ed's." He pulls Eddie upstairs, into his bathroom. Stands with him in front of the mirror, scissors in hand.

"Where do you want it?" Steve asks, his eyes meeting Eddie's in the mirror. Eddie takes a deep breath, brings his hand up, winces at the pull on his ribs but keeps going.

"Above my shoulders. But like... I wanna still be able to tuck it behind my ears?" He's not sure why it comes out as a question, but Steve just nods, Eddie sees his lips twitch into the start of a smile before dropping again. He reach up, drags his fingers genlty through Eddie hair.

His stomach sinks, his hair is gross. He hasn't washed it in days. Too tired. Too much pain. Too much effort.

"Sorry my hair's gross." He mumbles, lips barley moving.

"It's not. It's fine." Steve assures him, his voice soft, sections out a small lock of hair, he looks at Eddie in the mirror again.

"You're sure about this?" He asks, he looks sad. Eddie hates it. But also doesn't. Because it means Steve sees him, understands him, and how important his hair is to him.

But it doesn't matter right now. That his hair is a peice of him, a peice of the Eddie he'd built to keep himself safe. A peice of his armor.

"I'm sure. Please." He isn't begging, exactly, but his hands fist in his pajama pants, and it feels like it anyway.

"I'm gonna go just above your shoulder at first okay? And then if you want more off we can do that." Steve waits for Eddie to agree and then starts cutting.

Eddie closes his eyes when the scissors sink through his hair. Keeps them closed as Steve works. He stops a few cuts in and tells Eddie to wait there. Eddie sits on the toilet seat as he waits for Steve to come back.

He brings a radio with him, clicks in one of the tapes Eddie made him, and gets back to work. Eddie's eyes stay closed. He finds himself smiling as he listens to Steve hum behind him. Scrunches his nose when Steve full on sings a few times.

Not because he's bad. He's got a really nice voice actually. Eddie loves listening to him sing. But if he didn't scrunch his face he might to do something else instead, something stupid, with Steve so close.

It only takes a couple songs before Steve's hands are on his shoulders, gentle, reassuring, an anchor.

"Okay. It's done. Or at least. Might be. I can take more off if you need me too." His voice is soft in Eddie's ear, Eddie can feel the heat of his chest on his back he's so close.

He opens his eyes and feels his heart flutter in his chest. His head swimming a little. His hair hadn't been this short since junior year. He can see Steve watching him in the mirror.

"Good?" He asks, dragging his lip into his mouth and letting it go again.

"I think so." Eddie says, feeling a bit dazzed, a bit dizzy. And then Steve fucking reaches up with both hands, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ears genlty, his fingers moving down his neck to rest back on his shoulders.

"I could take another inch. It'd still fit behind your ears." Steve's eyes are moving over his head, like he's doing some complex math equation. Eddie wants to cry. His chest tight.

"Okay. Take it." He says, Steve's eyes move to his in their reflections again.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, reaching up and smoothing his hand over Eddie's hair. Eddie nods.

"Yeah. One more inch." He breathes the words out, like he just needs them gone, out of his mouth. Steve smiles at him, untucks his hair from his ears and starts cutting again.

Eddie watches him this time. Watches the way his tongue sticks out as he concentrates, measuring Eddie's hair between his fingers before he cuts. His tongue peaking out between his lips, brow furrowed in concentration.

Eddie watches him and tries to convince himself he actually wanted it shorter. And maybe he did. But he knows too, that he didn't want Steve to stop touching him. Steve's eyes meet his in the mirror and he smiles again. Eddie looks away. His cheeks burning.

"Okay. You're done Munson." His voice is teasing, it makes Eddie's stomach flutter.

"Thanks. Harrington." He teases back. Too soft. He knows. But he can't help it. His voice is stuck in his throat. Steve snorts as Eddie turns, takes a step toward the door.

"Actually. Can I-" Steve stops, his hand curling around Eddie's bicep, stopping him there. Eddie looks at him. Waiting.

"Can I wash your hair for you?" Steve asks, his voice quiet, Eddie barely hears it over the radio.

"My...?" Is Eddie's articulate reply.

"Please? It'll make you feel better. I- I think." Steve stammers a bit, always so endearing when he does that. Eddie loves when he's flustered.

"I uh... yeah okay. If you want." Eddie shrugs, tries to act normal. Like any of this is normal. And Steve fucking beams at him, that beautiful smile on full display.

"Okay cool. Just uh... here you can sit here while I get this cleaned up and get a towel and I'll be right back." He's talking fast, his hands flailing and jumping around as he talks. Eddie just nods, smiling at him as he watches him toss Eddie's chopped hair into the trash. Watches him take a lock of it and tie it in a knot, tells Eddie he'll put it somewhere safe. So they'll know when it's fully grown out again.

Steve wipes up the counter and disappears, comes back with two towels a few seconds later. Instructs Eddie to sit on the floor. He sets a towel down for him to sit on and lays the other over the side of the tub.

Eddie lets Steve guide him. His hands gentle as he lowers Eddie's head back over the tub, asks if he's comfortable, Eddie hums an affirmation. Steve makes sure the water is warm, not too hot, because Eddie doesn't like hot water. He gets it perfect. And then starts pouring water onto Eddie's hair.

Eddie's not sure where he got the cup. Or if it was already there for some reason. He means to ask but Steve's fingers sink into his hair and his brain short circuits. The shampoo smells amazing. Minty. It tingles against his scalp in the best way as Steve's fingers move in slow circles.

Eddie's eyes fall closed. He's sure he makes some obscene noise but Steve is kind enough not to comment. His fingers working magic in Eddie's hair. He rinses with warm water, the contrast from the cool minty feeling making Eddie shiver.

He hears Steve laugh a quiet laugh as he does and smiles himself. He hears another bottle pop open and closed and then Steve's fingers are back. Working the conditioner into his hair slowly, massaging it into his scalp as well. His hands moving slowly, with a purpose, for what feels like hours. He pulls back eventually, fingers dragging slowly through Eddie's hair as he goes.

"I'm gonna let that sit for about two minutes and then we'll rinse okay? You doin okay? Not in pain are you?" Steve all but whispers in Eddie's ear. The radio is still playing in the background. But Eddie couldn't tell you a single fucking song that had played since Steve started touching him.

"I'm good. Kinda tired. But that might just be your magic fingers." He peaks one eye open, watches as Steve laughs, shakes his head. He closes his eye again and laughs too. Only it wasn't a joke. Not really. Steve's fingers were magic. Just like the rest of him.

Steve hums along to Queen's Radio Ga Ga as they wait, Eddie tapping out the beat on his thigh as Steve hums and sways. The song ends and Steve scoots closer.

"Ready?" He asks, turning the water back on.

"As I'll ever be." Eddie deadpans, scooting back a bit from where he'd slid down.

"You're not gonna try and put products in my hair and blow dry it are you?" Eddie asks as Steve starts pouring water over him, fingers moving quicker now, moving his hair around to get it clean, he snorts again.

"No. Just wanted to get you clean." He says, pouring one last cup of water over his hair and turning the tap off. He grabs at each side of the towel under Eddie's neck and lifts, pulling Eddie up and wrapping his hair in one smooth motion. Eddie's eyes land on him and he can't help it.

"So my hair was gross. I knew it." He sighs, watches Steve's nose crinkle.

"It really wasn't that bad. But you thought it was. So i figured this would help." Steve shrugged, like it was nothing. Eddie bit his lip as Steve patted and scrunched his hair in the towel, being careful not to pull.

He claps his hands down on his thighs and helps Eddie get back on his feet. Pulls him genlty to stand in front of the mirror again and smiles soflty when Eddie takes the towel off his head and drags his own fingers through his hair.

It's short, leveled at his chin, a little above when he tucks it behind his ears. And he feels... better. Lighter. He shoves his hands up into the back of it, taking a deep breathe when his fingers drag over his neck, it makes him shiver.

"Fuck. I'm gonna be cold now." He mutters, chuckling in his throat, he hadn't thought about that.

"I'll keep you warm." Steve's voice is soft, when he speaks. The tape in the deck clicks and goes quiet as they stare at each other in the mirror.

"I just wanted you to feel better. But I'll gladly keep you warm too. Whatever you need Eddie. I- I mean I'm here. For you. Not goin anywhere." He shrugs after he mumbles through his little confession, his eyes on the floor when he turns to Eddie.

"I feel better." Eddie whispers, bites his lip and decides to be brave.

He steps forward, into Steve's space, Steve lifts his head, hazel eyes darting around Eddie's face. Eddie hears his breath stutter when he leans closer, presses his lips to Steve's cheek, firm.

Wanting no doubt in Steve's mind that Eddie means this. Means to kiss him. Means to pull him into a tight hug after. Means to hum happily into Steve's neck when Steve pulls him close, arms wrapping around Eddie's skinny frame and holding him tight.

"I'm not going anywhere either." Eddie breathes into his shoulder, presses another kiss there, into his shirt, like a promise. Steve squeezes him tighter, Eddie thinks he might be crying. His chest fluttering against Eddie's as he breathes shakily.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" Eddie asks, lets Steve pull away a bit so he can see him. Eddie was right, there are tears in his eyes, but he's smiling as he looks at Eddie.

"Yeah. Course you can. You can sleep there every night if you want. Forever." Steve says, nuzzles into Eddie touch as he wipes tears away from his flushed cheeks.

"Forever huh?" Eddie teases, kissing acoss Steve's cheeks genlty as he laughs, it's wet, and wobbly, and Eddie is so fucking in love with him already.

"Yeah. Forever. Or however long you want me I guess." He shrugs again, dismissive, as if he really thinks Eddie would ever give him up.

"Forever sounds good to me. Not fucking letting you go now I've got you." Eddie whispers, his hands holding Steve's face, Steve's hands on his wrists, holding him too.

"You're gonna keep me forever?" Steve asks, his lip trembling as he looks at Eddie with hope in his teary eyes.

"Forever and ever, if I can." Eddie nods, and it seems to break Steve. He sighs, grabs at Eddie's pajama shirt and tugs him forward. Their lips crash together, a little rough at first, their teeth clicking until Steve seems to calm and slow down. His lips move genlty against Eddie's, soft and slow, and when he pulls back he's smiling again, his crooked little half smile that Eddie loves so much.

Steve scrunches his hair a few more times and then drags Eddie upstairs, gets them both comfy in his bed. And he holds Eddie as they fall alseep, pressing kisses into his hair and against his temple before sleep takes him.

Eddie wakes up warm. Drapped across Steve's chest as the sun hits them. He feels lips press into his hair, smiles when Steve makes exaggerated kissy noises. But he keeps his eyes closed, nuzzles deeper into Steve as he feels his fingers press into his hair.

Eddie hums as they drag through a few times, nimbly untangling rats or snags as they move. He sinks deeper into Steve, his heart fluttering as Steve's hand moves through his hair genlty, scratching at his scalp as he goes, before settling against the back of his neck, his thumb moving in slow cirles against the newly exposed skin.

Eddie whimpers into Steve's chest and snuggles closer, Steve keeping him warm, just like he promised. Eddie couldn't wait to spend forever with him.

#steddie #my writing #mine #my fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #Fates Endless Inkwell #fei #just a random little idea i had

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celestialprincesse · 3 months

Text

🎀💞

I just know that Simon Riley wants his face sat on🤭

nsfw below the cut 🪷 mdni

You'd always been a little shy when it came to sex, understandably so considering that your boyfriend was a real life Adonis, some kind of cruelly beautiful deity come to taunt you for your prudishness. Obviously, you and Simon had done it, you'd fucked countless times when he came back from deployments or frustrated from debriefings gone bad, but it was always, for lack of a better word, tame. You'd always assumed, given his past, that he wouldn't be down to have sex, period. The beginning of your relationship was a minefield of navigating boundaries and understanding the complexity of the beautiful man you got to share your bed with. What you foolishly failed to recognise, however, is that whist you subconsciously saw Simon as wounded, he saw your fragility as clear as day, like a ripple under the surface of clear water.

He'd aways been so impossibly gentle with you, even when you'd wanted things differently, too afraid to ask him and send Simon spiralling back into that dark place he'd only recently been pulled from.

"Want you to fuck my face." Simon's deadpan voice snaps you from your reverie, brings you back to where you lay sprawled and waiting in the centre of your shared bed.

"I'm sorry?" You barely manage to splutter, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at where he sits patiently between your knees, not even needing to look down to your panties to know that your cunt is already dripping.

"Fuck, love." The sound of his exasperated sigh makes you feel like you've done something wrong, but the almost pained crinkle of his eyes confuses you. "You need me to spell it out? I'd like you to sit on my face and let me eat you out." Simon's words make you choke, jaw hanging agape as you process the fact that not only is he willing to take such a step in your sexual relationship, but also that he's so seemingly comfortable with the idea of you essentially fucking his face. Sure, he's eaten you out before, but never in such a compromising way. "Are you -" A soft kiss being placed to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is enough to silence you as you look down at Simon practically grovelling between your legs.

"If you don't want to, you can say no, baby." "It's not that I don't want to. I just don't want to - fuck." You huff, slumping back against the mattress with a sigh as you struggle to find the words you need to express the way you feel. "You don't want to fuck?" He smirks wickedly at you, one hand still cradling your outer thigh as he presses his cheek to the warm skin, trying to lighten the mood. Ease you up a bit. "Simon." "Tell me what you're thinking. I'll make it make sense." God he's always so unbearably patient. It almost has you in tears.

"I just - I'm not so confident with stuff like that, you know? I mean it took us six months of having sex for me to even feel comfortable enough to ride you. Now you want me to sit on your face?"

Simon's eyes soften at your reasoning, and he practically drags himself up the bed until he's face to face with you, propping himself up on his elbows to stare down at your face, so beautifully flushed and bashful.

"If you don't want to do it, that's fine, but I need you to know, that I look at you and get hard okay? You're the most beautiful thing I've seen. Ever. If I died by being suffocated between your legs? Fuckin' kill me already, yeah?"

His words have you giggling softly as you play with his hair, distracting yourself from the burning arousal in the pit of your tummy.

"Okay." You nod, slowly, meeting his eye to make sure that he sees you're serious. "You don't have to say yes if you're not sure." "I'm sure, but can we go slow?" "Of course, baby. We can do whatever you feel comfortable with."

It doesn't take long for you to be sat nervously on Simon's hips, clothes piled on the floor, discarded in order for you to sit naked atop him, bottom lip pulled nervously between your teeth. "Do I just -" You point awkwardly between the general vicinity of your cunt to Simon's face, heart fluttering when you catch the way he gazes up at you like some sort of statue, some masterpiece. "Mhm." He nods slowly, pupils blown impossibly wide, the chocolate of his gaze turning almost entirely black. You feel his massive palms take your hips, guiding you up to your knees before settling your slick cunt just over his face.

"Sit." He grunts when he doesn't immediately feel the press of you against his mouth, his nose barely touching your puffy clit. "What if I hurt you?" "I'll let you know. Now, sit." Before you know it, his fingers are digging into your hips, leaving you gasping at the suddenly overwhelming sensation of his entire lower face stuffed against your pussy.

"Holy sh-" You whine, already beginning to roll your hips in search of stimulation, all whilst Simon gives a contented hum which rumbles through you and has you clenching around nothing. His hands guide your hips in their rhythm as his tongue licks a flat stripe between your wet folds, leaving you stuttering and your eyes rolling back, all whilst you grip onto his hair like of you let go he'll disappear entirely.

He sets a languorous pace with his tongue, eating at you like you're his final meal, hands digging firmly at the meat of your ass whilst he uses the slight bump at the bridge of his nose to press up against your clit, making you dizzy. Whilst he uses both hands to guide you, you use the hand not tangled into his hair to roll a hardened nipple between your thumb and forefinger, the sensation going straight to your pussy and making you gasp. Simon, perceptive as ever, notices your want and pushes his tongue inside you to push just that little bit further - and he can tell that you're close by the way your thighs clench around his ears and the fact that you're wonderfully more vocal than usual.

Similarly, sensing your oncoming orgasm, you desperately attempt to pull yourself off of him, all of a sudden shy about cumming on his face like you haven't done it countless times before. Your wriggling is met with a small slap to your ass which has you seeing stars as the small sting snaps the elastic band stretching taut in your lower belly, and Simon laps up every bit that you'll give him.

"Didn't think that men like me got to go to heaven." Simon sighs when you both lay sprawled and happy in bed together.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

I did not intend to write 1.1k of smut when I opened my laptop this evening but boundaries and communication are just so !! sexy !!

N e ways I'll just leave this here for y'all💕

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boyfhee · 3 months

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이희승 、PRETTY GIRL

featuring ⋆ bsf!heeseung, hints at friends with benefits

warnings ⋆ slightly suggestive, use of endearments, profanities, jealously on heeseung's side, toxic undertones? i'm not too sure on this one ( 0.9k )

notes ⋆ something has been so so wrong with me recently i can't come up with anything that doesn't involve making out

“hee, how do i look?”

heeseung is sprawled on your couch, scrolling through his phone when he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow. you’re waiting for his response and he’s taking his time— eyeing you up and down, the way that pretty dress hugs your body. you’ve even done your makeup, flaunting that lip tint you had bought recently, that makes your lips ten times more kissable. you never dressed like this for him.

he sighs, putting his phone aside, and sits up straight, not a single emotion on his face. “are you going to the library to study or on a date?”

“ah, did i over do it?” and you’re asking in the cutest and quietest voice, looking down at your outfit and oh how much he wants to tell you how gorgeous you look.

but you aren’t all dolled up for him. it’s for your project partner— that asshole you have also been studying with for finals for over a week now. and it’s ridiculous how he— or anyone of those losers around you think they stand a chance, when you end up in his arms every night, at the end of all.

“no,” yes, he wanted to say. “not at all,” so pretty for someone who’s not me.

he gets up from the couch and makes his way to you— you look prettier up close. heeseung is aware of it. he wants it to be his little secret, who even does your study guy or whatever thinks he is? heeseung takes your hands and pulls you closer, just looking at you, admiring you. maybe he should keep his pretty little best friend all to himself.

and you don’t even mind since you’re used to this. the closeness, subtle touches, holding hands, comfort, advice— it’s what best friends are for. “but you said i look like i’m going on a date.”

he chuckles at your cute reaction, the pout, the slight frown. how cute. it’s adorable how you always take his words seriously, he’s the one person you can rely on, who you trust blindly. sometimes, heeseung feels bad for having feelings for you. would you even care if he confessed? or would you just cut him off? he’s your precious best friend after all, who you’ve known since you two were toddlers.

“i meant to say that you look too pretty,” is he even allowed to feel this way?

you laugh softly at his words, a bit flustered at his words even though he has complimented you a thousand times. “well, i’ll get going then, ‘seung,”

truthfully, it’s also your fault.

those smiles and giggles, your gaze that searches for him in a crowded room. you never forget to invite him to a group hangout, it’s one benefit of being friends with your friends. those nicknames you call him and only him. he’s the one you run to when you have problems. you live in his apartment more than your dorm— it’s your fault for making him feel all this. for making him like this.

you try to pull your hand back to leave, but instead he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing himself against you. this is wrong, you know, he knows. too bad, it’s not the first time. worse, he doesn’t care.

“hee—” you gasp in surprise, but your words end up coming out as a sigh once he presses his lips against your neck. he can feel your hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away and the swift motion in which they instinctively wrap around him. and you do realise it’s your fault. you always end up giving in anyway. it’s a bad, vicious habit— he pulls, you push, and then give in, and the way you react to things he does drives him insane.

sure, your project partner could wait for a while. he doesn’t deserve you anyway.

“you’re so pretty, angel,” he whispers next to your ear, giving it a soft nibble before pulling back and looking at you with those enchanting eyes and a smile that sends your heart into a whirlwind. he calls you angel like it’s your name, and he whispers compliments ever so softly and sweetly. it’s what you had asked him for— to tell you how you look, and heeseung is good at doing that. he has got your back. “so gorgeous,”

it’s what best friends are for.

the next thing your mind registers is his sweet lips on yours, the taste of cherries and vanilla from the shortcakes you two had earlier lingering on your tongue, and then your mind goes blank. you’re pulling him closer, he’s busy savouring your taste, taking in your every breath, every little sound you make as he kisses you so well.

heeseung bets that guy you’re so excited to spend time with can’t even make you feel half of what you’re feeling. you’re always going to end up coming back to him for more. after all, no one knows what you want better than heeseung.

the sound of your phone ringing snaps him out of his thoughts. he looks at your slightly red lips as you reach out for your phone, but heeseung beats you to it. he grabs your phone and grins when he sees the caller ID— it’s your study buddy— hands caressing your cheeks as he answers with a smirk. “sorry, my girl will be a bit late today. hope you don’t mind,”

he hangs up, phone somewhere around, and his lips are back on yours again.

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sunkissed-zegras · 9 days

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𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎, 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓'𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | this is part one, brother's best friend trope! bryce and paige had been best friends since they were kids, and she's never really been close to his little sister, y/n until she transfers to uconn after a tumultuous freshman year.

─ word count | 10k words (holy fuck i'm so sorry)

─ warnings | VERY UNEDITED (just wanted to get this masterpiece out for yall since i've been teasing for a couple months) brother's best friend trope, language, kinda suggestive, couple kisses pretty fluffy, lots of tension, pretty fast-paced, LOTSSSSS of straight up yap, allusions to SA but could be interpreted as something else, drinking/alcohol usage, idk nothing else?

─ ev's notes | this might be straight up trash but this was a request from like early march, i wanted to do it justice and hopefully ???? i did. i'm gonna be honest, i blacked out while writing this and i'm too lazy to edit but hopefully it's good enough for yall!!!!!!!

pls lmk what yall thought!!!!!! i love hearing yalls feedback in my inbox 💘💘 mwah mwah mwah, enjoy!!!!!!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

"LET'S GO, THAT'S MY BOY!" PAIGE SHOUTS loudly from the stands, earning a few amused glances from others in the bleacher.

Bryce, her best friend, hadn't done anything special but Paige was the ultimate hype-woman. Bryce heard her shout and shot her his signature smirk before focusing back on the game. They'd know each other since middle school ─ and they've been practically inseparable since.

After winning the game by 3 points, Paige walked through the crowd to try and find Bryce. And after searching for a moment, she spotted Bryce talking with a girl outside the locker room and began walking toward them. Before she could tease him, she quickly recognized the familiar face.

"Y/N?" She called out and both of the siblings turned around. Paige was almost shocked at how much you'd grown up. She glanced up and down, taking in your appearance.

"Paige!" Your eyes widened, your lips curving up in a smile as the taller blonde pulled you into a tight hug. "How the hell did you manage to get even taller?"

Paige chuckled as she squeezed you tightly in the embrace. "I guess I just can't help it," she joked, releasing you from the hug but keeping her hands on your shoulders as she looked at you. The last time she saw her sophomore year at UConn and your senior year at Hopkins, which has been almost three years.

After your senior year, your parents moved out to your grandparents house up in Colorado so even during holidays, she didn't see you or your brother anymore.

You grinned, shaking your head in amusement. "Well, you definitely make me feel short," you joked back.

"Well, you are short. Don't know how Brycey here got so tall." Paige teased as you laughed. Paige was shocked at how much you'd changed; your skin was glowing, your hair was longer, you'd gotten your braces off, you finally found your sense of style... She couldn't help but stare.

"Well, I guess he got all the height genes," you joked, playfully poking fun at Bryce's towering stature. "Maybe not the cute genes, though."

That's for sure, Paige thought to herself as she gazed at you. She realized she was staring before she glanced back at Bryce, a laugh escaping her mouth.

"Okay, okay." Bryce rolled his eyes as you joined Paige's laughter. "Me and the boys are gonna go celebrate. You guys down?"

"Well, I'm still trying to unpack-"

Paige cut you off as she spoke for you. "Oh, we're down. You can unpack later, B will help you."

"Wait, what." Bryce looked in between you two as he scoffed.

Paige flashed Bryce a smirk, clearly enjoying the moment. "Yep, you heard right. Consider it a big brother duty."

"I didn't sign up to be her brother." Bryce rolled his eyes playfully but quickly relented as Paige sent him a mocking glare. "Fine, fine whatever."

You chuckled at Paige and Bryce, realizing how much you'd missed their banter. "Looks like I've got myself a brand new big brother," you teased, giving Bryce a playful nudge.

Bryce grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "Lucky you," he replied with a smirk, playfully ruffling your hair.

"Hey! I just got a blowout!"

──

You and Paige sat in a different table than the team, opting for a table without a group of noisy college boys. Neither of you minded though, you finally had the chance to catch up since either of you had seen each other in so long.

"So, how's basketball?" You sipped on your fountain drink as Paige chewed on the pizza, trying to swallow quickly to speak. You let out a laugh at Paige's eagerness to talk about her sport.

"Basketball's been good, really intense this season," Paige replied once she managed to swallow her bite of pizza. "We've been training hard, but it's paying off. We're getting some great wins," she continued, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

You nodded, feeling a surge of pride for Paige. "I know, I've been keeping up with your games. Dad always watches your games and texts us updates on the groupchat, it's so funny."

Paige laughed, your family had always been really supportive of her ─ they'd slowly become her second family. "Dude, that's so funny. He doesn't even like basketball."

"He probably watches more of your games than Bryce's," you quipped with a playful grin, earning a chuckle from Paige.

"Don't let Bryce hear you, he'll kill me." Paige shook her head in amusement as she took another bite of the pizza. "Anyway, how are you liking UConn? Bryce told you'd transferred but you know how my schedule can be-"

"No, Paige, I totally get it." You smiled softly at her, nodding understandingly. "UConn's been great, actually. It's been a big adjustment, but I'm starting to settle in."

"I'm glad you liked it. Honestly, I never knew why you didn't come here in the first place ─ imagine, two of L/N at UConn." She exaggerated as you laughed, finishing up your slice of piece of pizza.

You chuckled at Paige's playful exaggeration, shaking your head in amusement. "I just didn't wanna go too far from home."

Paige understood why you were so scared, she remembers how shy you were when you were a kid. You really kept to yourself, the only reason why people even knew of you was because of your brother, who was a basketball legend. But seeing you now, she's sure no one would believe her.

You carried yourself so much differently, you were so much more well-spoken and confident. But it was a subtle difference, you hadn't changed so drastically to the point where she didn't even recognize you. You had kept all the parts that made you, you and gotten more comfortable in your own skin. You were so alluring to Paige, something about you just made her feel good.

"I get it, but hey. You're here now." Paige grinned as she finally finished up her food. She glanced around the shop before she turned back to you. "Do you wanna go walk around campus? I can show you around, so you know where all cool places are at."

If Paige was being honest, she just wanted to spend some more time alone with you. She convinced herself it was simply because she'd wanted to catch up more, I mean... she hadn't seen you in over two years.

You glanced over at Bryce, he was so engulfed with his friends you were sure he had forgotten you were even here. Plus, you did want to go explore the campus a little more. You snapped your gaze back to Paige, a small smile playing on your face.

"Sure, let's go."

You and Paige got up from the booth and left the shop, out into the cool night air. Despite the late hour, it wasn't completely empty ─ there were a couple people still out. You began walking, the cool air flowing through your hair.

Paige glanced back at you, continuing to analyze you and how much you'd grown up the last year. She'd always been closer to Bryce because they shared so many interests but also because you'd always been very shy and closed off. Up until your sophomore year, she hadn't really talked to you ─ but now, it felt familiar but different all at once.

However, Paige didn't mind one bit. She'd always wanted to be closer to you and now it seemed like the perfect time.

You caught her gaze and mirrored her smile, amusement evident in your expression. "What?"

"What do you mean, what?" She mocked your voice and you shook your head in faux-annoyance. "Can't I look at you? I mean jeez, you... you were always pretty but damn."

You let out a breathless laugh as you rolled your eyes, despite the warm feeling that began to form on your face. Paige had always had the teasing personality but for some reason, it felt different now ─ more personal. Maybe you were just over analyzing it. "Shut up, says you."

"What about me?" Paige teased as her gaze lingered on your face. The cool air did nothing to soothe the awful warm feeling on your face as you scoffed, Paige was such a tease.

You stumbled over your words as Paige laughed, trying to explain yourself. "Well... you know what I mean. You're really pretty."

Paige's laughter softened into a warm smile, and for a moment, the air seemed charged with a new sense of closeness between you. "Aw, thanks, Y/N," she replied, her tone sincere as she reached out to gently nudge your shoulder.

You felt a rush of relief at her response, grateful that she hadn't misinterpreted your awkward attempt at complimenting her. "Yeah, of course," you replied as shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"I mean... you're always teasing me, and now you're all... complimenting me and stuff," you stammered, feeling the weight of Paige's gaze on you.

Paige's expression softened, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Hey, I'm just speaking the truth. You know," she replied, her voice soft and sincere. "When we were in high school I knew, like five guys who had the biggest crushes on you."

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion as you laughed, why would she bring that up? "Really? Well no one ever asked me out," your tone came out amused but there was an underlying hurt to it.

Paige shook her head as she scoffed, "Yeah it's Bryce's fault. He told all the boys if they ever asked you out, he'd break their kneecaps or some shit like that."

You burst into laughter at Paige's remark, the tension dissipating as you realized the absurdity of the situation. "Seriously? Bryce said that?"

Paige nodded, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh yeah, he was very protective of you. Said something about not wanting anyone to break your heart or something like that."

"Well, I guess that explains why no one ever asked me out," you replied with a chuckle, feeling a sense of gratitude for your brother's unwavering support. "I don't blame him, the boys on the basketball teams were always sluts."

"Sluts is one way to put it," She laughed at your wording, nudging you playfully. "Looks like you were always off-limits." Paige wet her lips as she kept gazing at you, a smile playing on her lips. You didn't miss the way her tone shifted, her eyes scanning your body.

You couldn't help but notice the change in Paige's demeanor, the way her laughter faded into a more contemplative silence. Her gaze felt almost... lingering, and you couldn't shake the feeling of warmth that spread through you under her scrutiny.

There was something different in the way she looked at you, something that sent a shiver down your spine and made your heart race. As the moment stretched on, you felt a rush of uncertainty wash over you. What was happening between you and Paige? Was it just a fleeting moment of attraction, or something more?

You felt like your mind was racing, you were absolutely insane. You couldn't gather your thoughts as you swallowed.

"Yeah, I guess so," you replied, your voice slightly breathless as you tried to shake off the wave of uncertainty. Paige's playful teasing had taken on a new tone, one that left you feeling both exhilarated and very, very nervous.

Paige's smile widened into a smirk. "So, what about now? Are you still off-limits?" She asked, her voice low and. And before you could respond, she continued. "You know, you've really grown up a lot since high school,"

"Thanks, Paige," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to meet her gaze.

Paige's gaze softened, her gaze lingering on you in a way that made your cheeks flush with heat. "Anytime." She replied, her tone light. "So, where's your dorm?"

You cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself as you gestured in the direction of your dorm. "It's just a couple of blocks from here, Hilltop Halls"" you replied, your voice a little steadier than before.

"Oh shit, me too. How'd you manage that?" Paige laughed as she shook her head in amusement. Those were usually the dorms for student athletes and honors students, and she didn't recall you being either.

You shrugged, a sheepish grin spreading across your face. "Honestly, I have no idea. Just got lucky with the housing assignment, I guess."

Paige raised an eyebrow as she eyed you. "Hmm, mysterious," she teased as she smirked, her tone suggestive. "Maybe you have some hidden talents you haven't told me about."

You burst out laughing, rolling your eyes. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

Paige kept smirking back at you before you nudged her shoulder playfully, she let out a couple chuckles. "Hey, I don't know what you've been up in college. Who knows, you might be a party girl or something."

"Oh shut up," you couldn't hide the smirk as she let out a dramatic gasp.

"You are a party girl! Bad, bad girl Y/N." She tsk'd dramatically as you rolled your eyes. "Does Bryce know you're out here causing trouble?" Paige continued, her voice dripping with mock concern.

You laughed, shaking your head at Paige's exaggerated antics. "Oh please, Bryce doesn't need to know anything,"

Paige smirked, her gaze lingering on you with a playful glint. "Well, then, it'll be our little secret then."

You and Paige arrived at the entrance to Hilltop Halls, walking into the building then up the stairs. "What floor are you on?" Paige's voice rung in the otherwise, pretty dead hallway.

You glanced over at Paige, a smile playing on your lips. "I'm on the third floor," you replied, leading the way up the staircase. "It's not too far."

"Damn, I'm on the fifth floor." She spoke as she followed closely behind you, her footsteps echoing softly on the stairs as you ascended to the third floor. "But I do know someone who lives on this floor."

And right as those words flew out of her mouth, the door on their right opened to reveal a very tired KK. Paige let out a laugh at the coincidence, looking in between you two.

"Well, speak of the devil," Paige remarked with a grin, her eyes dancing with amusement.

KK rubbed her eyes sleepily, a yawn escaping her lips. "Hey, Paige. Who's your friend?" Her lips curved into a tired but otherwise friendly smile.

"It's Bryce's little sister. She just transferred and she lives on this floor," Paige introduced you with a warm smile. "Y/N, meet KK, one of my teammates."

"Oh, Bryce's little sister? What are you doing with his little sister?" KK's smile turned into a smirk as she raised her eyebrows, gazing at Paige knowingly.

"Oh shut up, it's not like that." Paige's face blushed as KK laughed, examining you with a smile. "She's like a sister to me."

KK's smirk widened as she continued to tease Paige. "Uh-huh, sure she is," she replied, her tone laced with amusement.

Paige rolled her eyes, her cheeks flushing slightly as she shot KK a mock glare. "Seriously, KK. Bryce would kill me," she insisted.

"Yeah and you always like a challenge." KK raised her eyebrows before she finally met your gaze "You're a lot prettier than Brycey, I'll tell you that. Nice to meet you, Y/N," her gaze lingered on you longer than Paige liked, sending her a glare (that went unnoticed by you).

You smiled, feeling grateful for the warm welcome from both Paige and KK. "Thanks, KK. It's nice to meet you too," you replied warmly.

Before KK could respond, Paige grabs your arm and flashed you a grin. "Well, it's getting late and Y/N needs her beauty sleep. I'll see you later KK, love you."

Paige's words came out quick as she practically dragged you down the hallway, KK letting out another laugh. "Nice meeting you, KK! See you around," you called out with a smile.

As you guys finally got to your dorm room, Paige gave you a smile. "Sorry 'bout that, KK just likes to tease."

"No worries, Paige. It's all good," you reassured her with a smile, appreciating her protective nature. "She seems really fun."

Paige returned your smile, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Yeah, she is. She means well."

There was a comfortable silence as you gazed at each other for a few moments. Paige was the first to break the eye contact, chucking as her gaze lingered on the door then back to you.

"This was fun," Paige remarked, her voice soft but filled with warmth as she glanced around the hallway. "Let's hang out more, yeah?"

"Yeah." You smiled as your cheeks flushed slightly, nervously chuckling. "Just let me know when, cus I know you're a busy woman."

"I definitely will," she assured you, her tone eager. "And don't worry, I'll make time for you."

You flushed as you gazed back at the blonde. "Thanks, P. Really,"

"Why are you thanking me, I'm your friend. Of course I'm gonna make time for you," Paige scoffed as if it meant nothing at all.

"Well you're a student athlete-"

"So what?" Paige laughed as she shook her. "You have to get inside your room before we talk out here for another hour,"

"Alright, alright, I'm going," you replied with a grin. "Goodnight, Paige,"

"Goodnight."

With a final wave, you entered your dorm room, ready to settle in for the night but you couldn't help but grin. Your cheeks had begun to hurt from how much you'd been laughing, you couldn't remember the last time you'd laughed that hard. And it was all because of a certain blonde.

You shook your head as you sighed at your own thoughts, you needed to relax. That's just how Paige is ─ flirty and a tease, that's all. Nothing more, nothing less.

──

"How was it?" Bryce's voice snapped you back to reality, pulling your attention away from the task at hand. You blinked, lost in thought as you turned to face Bryce.

You and Bryce had been silently sorting through your stuff for the past half hour, both too exhausted (and maybe a little hungover, in Bryce's case) to engage in much conversation.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you turned to face him. "How was what?"

"Hanging out with Paige?" Bryce's voice slightly agitated as he spoke in a matter-of-factly tone.

His question caught you off guard, and you paused for a moment before responding. "Oh, it was good. We caught up and uh, walked around campus," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the butterflies at the mention of the girl you'd been thinking about non-stop for the last 24 hours.

"Turns out she lives a few floors above me," you added with a smile as you kept on sorting through your make-up.

"Oh, wait." Bryce paused as he processed the information, realization striking his expression as he smiled. "Oh, yeah! And the rest of the girl's basketball team, too. That's cool, though now I can just hang out with you for an hour and then Paige, don't have to waste gas or anything."

"You just realized that?" Your voice was amused as you glanced at Bryce, shaking your head in disbelief at your brother's stupidity.

Bryce chuckled, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "Hey, cut me some slack. My brain's still waking up," he replied with a grin. "Why'd you and Paige decide to run off like that. I looked away for two seconds and you were both gone."

"Well, uh..." You didn't know why you were so nervous under Bryce's gaze ─ it wasn't like he was accusing you of anything nor have you done anything wrong. "We just felt left out cus you were with your boys. And we needed some fresh air."

Bryce raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Fresh air, huh?"

"Yeah, you know, just wanted to stretch our legs a bit," you replied with a shrug, hoping to brush off any suspicion.

And as if right on cue, you heard a knock on your door. Before you could call out to whoever it was, the familiar voice spoke up. "It's me, open up."

Bryce dropped the piece of clothing he was folding to open the door for Paige, a smile on his face. You leaned so you could also greet her, a bright smile on your face.

Paige laughed as she took in Bryce's disheveled appearance. "How hungover are you, 1 to 10?"

Bryce just rolled his eyes and opened your door wider so that Paige could enter the room as he walked away to continue the task at hand. "Shut up, Paige."

"Ooo, someone's cranky." Paige's voice was laced with amusement as you began laughing, soon joined by Paige as Bryce glared at the two of you.

Paige chuckled as she stepped into the room, glancing around with curiosity. "So, how's the unpacking going?"

You shrugged, gesturing to the scattered boxes and bags around the room. "We're getting there."

"Well I have something that might help you unwind. We have a kickback at my friend's place, are you two down?" Paige's invitation took you by surprise, but the prospect of unwinding after a long day of unpacking sounded appealing. You glanced over at Bryce, silently gauging his reaction.

"Not tonight, I'm still recovering from last night. And uh... I don't think you should either, you're gonna be hungover as hell." Bryce's voice was filled with concern as he glanced toward you then back at Paige.

Paige just rolled her eyes at his words. "Hey, don't let Brycey over here ruin the good mood. It'll be fun. And B, would I ever let anything bad happen to your little sister?"

Bryce's concern for both of your well-being was evident, but Paige's reassurance seemed to alleviate some of his worries. He sighed, shaking his head in resignation. "Whatever, just don't drink."

"Says you, I'm pretty sure you're still drunk right now." You joked as Paige swallowed a laugh as she exchanged a glance with both you and Bryce.

Bryce just rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Just remember what I said."

Paige waved him off with a grin, turning back to you. "So, what do you say, Y/N? Kickback tonight?"

Your lips curved into a smile as you nodded. "Yes, for sure."

──

The party was going great, it was exactly what you needed after a weekend of just unpacking and settling in. It wasn't as big as you were used to but you were still having fun with Paige and her friends.

However, you did take Bryce's advice and opt out on the drinking, at least for tonight. You didn't wanna make a fool out of yourself in front of all the D1 athletes you were suddenly best friends with.

"Can't believe you're Bryce's little sister," Azzi laughed as she took you in once again. You were so much more put together and very pretty.

You chuckled, feeling a little self-conscious under Azzi's gaze despite her very friendly demeanor. "Yeah, I get that a lot," you replied with a smile, trying to remain modest despite the compliment.

Azzi nudged you playfully. "Well, you'll fit right in with us. Maybe even better than Bryce does," she teased, earning a laugh from Paige.

"He doesn't fit in with us. He fits in with Paige and KK, not us. He's very..." Ice tried to put into words but decided to just shrug, a sheepish smile on her lips. "He's just Bryce. No offense,"

You laughed at Ice's comment, nodding your head in amusement. "None taken. Yeah you're right, Bryce is... well, he's Bryce," you replied, knowing exactly what Ice meant.

Bryce had always been a bit of a character, and while you loved him dearly, you could understand why people might not get along with him.

Azzi laughed, nodding in agreement. "Exactly! But you, on the other hand, you're like... the cool, mysterious sister," she continued with a playful smile, causing the others to laugh and nod in agreement.

Paige grinned, coming to Bryce's defense per usual. "Hey, leave my boy alone. He's just special, okay? So what if he's cocky and kinda annoying."

"You guys don't know how annoying Bryce can get until you've had to share a hotel room with him," you sighed dramatically as you rolled your eyes.

"God bless you, I couldn't imagine." Ice replied with a chuckle, shaking her head in amusement. "I've heard stories from Paige and KK, the one with the toothbrush," she pretended to gag as Azzi laughed.

"It wasn't that bad-" Paige protested as you shushed her dramatically, laughing.

"It's okay, P, you don't have to lie and defend him." You laughed as Paige rolled her eyes, leaning back on the table with a smirk.

"I'm telling him you said that," Paige threatened with a playful grin, raising an eyebrow in mock warning.

You gasped dramatically, pretending to be frightened. "You wouldn't!"

"Yes, yes I would."

"You would not!"

"Yes, I would!"

Before you could reply, you were suddenly pushed slightly into Paige. Her hands instinctively reach to hold you up by your waist as her expression turns into a protective one as she glares up at the person. Not only were you knocked into, their drink had spilled all over your shirt. You felt the cold liquid seep through your shirt as you stumbled, caught off guard by the sudden push.

"Oh shit, I am so sorry." The man's voice rang out as he looked down at you then Paige. "Didn't see you two there," he spoke as he noted Paige's hands on your waist.

You nodded, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through your cheeks from both the embarrassment of being pushed and the closeness to Paige. "You're all good, don't worry about it."

Paige's grip on your waist loosened as she stepped back, her eyes scanning you to make sure you weren't hurt. "Watch where you're going next time."

However, the man did not walk away after that. His gaze lingered on you as he slowly wet his lips, a smile on his face. "I've never seen you here. You go to UConn?"

You exchanged a glance with Paige, feeling a bit uncomfortable under the man's intense gaze. "Yeah, just transferred here,"

Paige stepped in, her protective instincts kicking in as she subtly positioned herself between you and the man. "We were just heading to the bathroom to clean up. If you'll excuse us."

The guy didn't budge as he kept his gaze on your figure. "You know where that is? Maybe I can show you ladies."

Paige's expression turned icy as she stepped even closer to you, clearly not amused by the man's persistence. "We'll find it ourselves, thanks."

"Come on, don't be like that. I'm just trying to be friendly." he insisted, his tone taking on a slightly aggressive edge.

Azzi and Ice exchanged glances before Paige's nose flared in anger. "If you don't back up right now, I'm gonna punch you in the nose," her voice was sharp as she eyed him up and down.

He sighed as he pushed his hair back before finally backing off, walking away. Paige's grip never left your arm as she gave Ice and Azzi a thumbs up before leading you to the bathroom. She walked next to you, her hand on the small of your back.

As you reached the bathroom, she closed the door behind you with a sigh. A guilty look crossed her features as she met your gaze in the mirror. "I'm sorry about that, Y/N. That guy was way out of line," she apologized, her voice tinged with frustration.

You met Paige's gaze in the mirror, appreciating her concern. "It's okay, Paige," you assured her, giving her a grateful smile.

Paige returned the smile as she sighed. She grabbed a paper towel then gestured for you to sit on the sink, which you obliged. She wet the paper towel and began cleaning up your shirt that was now soaking wet with beer and God knows what else.

There wasn't much use though, there was no way she was getting it out. But she kept dabbing slowly, catching your gaze every once in a while and giving you a small smile. The moment felt intimidate especially with the close proximity and the gentle touch of her hands on your shirt. You couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in your stomach as you watched her, her focused expression softened by the dim lighting of the bathroom.

"So," Paige began as she met your eye. "Tell me more about your party girl era, I bet you lived it up in Minnesota. You were probably the life of the party."

You chuckled softly at Paige's teasing, feeling a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Yeah it was fun for awhile. But y'know... got a bit carried away," your tone slightly changed as you a forced a smile, which didn't go unnoticed by Paige.

Paige noticed the shift in your tone and expression, her playful demeanor softening into one of concern. "Hey, you okay?" she asked gently, her eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

You sighed, a wave of vulnerability washing over you as you met Paige's gaze. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just... reflecting, I guess," you admitted. "A lot happened at Minnesota, y'know."

You didn't why you were opening up, you hadn't even been drinking that night. It was probably you just needed to talk to someone about it other than your brother or your mom, and Paige was here. She looked confused as she stopped dabbing on your shirt, putting the towel down.

"You wanna talk about it?" Her voice came out soft as she looked into your eyes, and you felt vulnerable but in a good way. You could trust Paige, no matter what.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. But something about Paige's comforting presence encouraged you to open up. "It's just... a lot of stuff happened back there," you began, your voice wavering slightly. "I made some mistakes, got caught up in things I shouldn't have."

Paige nodded in understanding, her hand reaching out to squeeze yours reassuringly. "We all make mistakes, Y/N. It's part of growing up," she reassured you, her tone gentle.

"They're mistakes I can never... undo, you know." You were being cryptic for a reason, you didn't wanna tell her straight up. "It's bad," you whispered as Paige shook her head.

"They can't be that bad, I promise you. As long as you didn't end up in jail, you're fine." Paige joked slightly as you sighed, leaning back slightly. Paige's expression flickered back to serious. "Wait did you?"

"No, no." You shook your head quickly. "Something may have happened at a party and I wasn't totally aware of it happening until the next day, and um... well, I just left after."

Paige put two and two together as her eyes widened, squeezing your hand. "Oh shit, Y/N."

"Yeah," you whispered softly.

"I... I'm so sorry that happened," Paige pulled you into a hug as you leaned into her embrace, feeling a mixture of relief wash over you. Her comforting presence offered solace in a moment of vulnerability, and you were grateful for her understanding.

"It's okay," you murmured, your voice muffled against her shoulder. "I've been trying to put it behind me, but it's been tough."

"Who else knows?" Paige asked as she pulled away slightly to meet your eyes.

"Just Bryce and my parents. And now, you." You paused, feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders as you shared this burden with Paige. "I haven't really talked about it with anyone else. It's just... hard, you know?"

Paige nodded, her expression filled with empathy. "Thank you for trusting me with this," she said softly, her hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face.

You gazed into her eyes for a few seconds before averting your gaze, feeling nervous. "But that wasn't the only reason why I left. The people there sucked, they were so close-minded and like... awful,"

Paige nodded, she understood how it was like because she had grown up in that town. "I don't know how you stayed that long," she joked slightly as your lips began to curve up into a smile.

"Yeah, well, I guess I was just trying to fit in," you replied with a wry smile, though there was a hint of bitterness in your tone. "But it's hard to fit in when you don't even belong there."

Paige's expression softened as she finally put two and two together. "I get it. It's tough when you're surrounded by people who don't understand or accept you for who you are."

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump forming in your throat as you struggled to find the right words. "Yeah, exactly. I mean, it's not like I ever really belonged there anyway," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Paige's gaze held a mixture of understanding and sympathy as she nodded. "Well, you're here now. And you belong here," she reassured you, her tone firm yet gentle. "And if anyone gets that feeling, it's me," she joked as she rose her eyebrows.

You laughed softly as you met her eyes, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I'm glad you understand the feeling, then."

Paige gazed back at you, a small smile playing on her lips. She was slightly confused but it didn't even matter, her heart was beating so fast she thought it was about burst. As Paige's heart raced, she found herself drawn to you in a way she hadn't fully realized before.

"Yeah," she murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I understand more than you know."

Paige's smile widened slightly, her eyes reflecting a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but feel drawn to her in that moment, your heart fluttering with an unfamiliar sensation.

Before either of you could say anything else, the bathroom door creaked open, interrupting the moment. Ice's voice broke through the quiet atmosphere, pulling you both back to reality.

"Hey, you two still in here?" Ice called out, oblivious to the tension in the air.

Paige cleared her throat, breaking eye contact with you as she turned towards the door. "Yeah, we'll be out in a sec," she called back, her tone casual. "Are you okay with-"

"Yeah, yeah." You responded as you hopped off the sink, grabbing Paige's wrist as you opened the bathroom door. You met Ice's gaze as she noticed the proximity between you two.

Ice's eyebrows raised slightly in curiosity as she took in the scene before her, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she offered a small smile before turning to lead the way back to where the rest of the group was gathered. Paige pulled you slightly closer as Ice guided you two back to the group, her hand on your waist as she did so.

Her touch seemed to natural, so casual that you didn't even bat an eye. It was as if you both had done this a thousand times before, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Despite the lingering warmth of her touch, you tried to keep your thoughts from straying too far.

──

Hanging out with Paige became a normal occurrence ─ Paige would always come by your dorm after practice, you'd watch a movie or eat dinner together. And on weekends, you were at her dorm playing Fortnite with her friends.

The more time you spent with Paige, the more you found yourself enjoying her company. Whether it was the easy banter between you two or the comfortable silence that sometimes fell between conversations, being with her felt right.

"You headin' to Paige's tonight?" Bryce called out from the kitchen as you entered it.

You nodded as you grabbed a bite of his sandwich, earning a glare from your brother. "Yep, we're probably gonna go out to eat. You wanna come?"

Bryce gave you a skeptical look, a smirk playing on his lips as he shook his head. "Nah, I don't wanna third wheel."

"What do you mean?" You responded as you mimicked his skeptical look, trying to ignore the warmth in your cheek as he gave you another glance. "She's your best friend."

"Yeah and your girlfriend." Bryce joked as you choked out a nervous laugh, immediately diverting your gaze from his and grabbed your purse. Bryce's teasing hit a nerve, causing your cheeks to flush as you tried to maintain your composure.

"Ha ha, very funny," you retorted, hoping to brush off his comment with a casual tone. "We're just really close, you jealous now?"

Bryce raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he ignored your comments. "Sure," he teased, his tone laced with amusement as he watched you squirm slightly under his gaze. "I know you and Paige very well, probably better than you know yourselves-"

"You're so annoying, shut up." You cut him off with a scoff as you began walking toward the door, your cheeks red in embarrassment.

"Hey, I'm just messing with you," he laughed, his tone very amused. "Have fun tonight. And tell Paige I said hi."

"I will, don't worry!''

──

You didn't expect to hear a knock on your door at nearly one in the morning, especially since you had just settled into bed after a long day. Curious, you got up and made your way to the door, wondering who could possibly be visiting at such a late hour.

Opening it, you were surprised to find Paige standing there, exhaustion on her face. "Hey," she greeted softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she sniffled.

She looked up at you with bloodshot eyes before she took in your appearance. "Shit, I'm sorry. Were you asleep-"

"Paige, no it's fine. Are you okay?"

That was all she needed to pull you into a tight embrace, almost knocking the wind out of you. All you did was wrap your arms around her waist as she buried her face in your shoulder, her body trembling slightly. You held her close, feeling her heartbeat against yours, the warmth of her embrace providing some comfort in the darkness of the night.

"It's okay, P," you murmured softly, rubbing her back soothingly as you felt her tension slowly start to ease.

After a few moments, Paige pulled back slightly, gulit on her face. "I'm sorry for showing up like this. I just got home from the game and I didn't realize it was late."

It was slowly adding up as you gave Paige a sympathetic smile. "Don't apologize please, you wanna come in?"

You stepped back to let her in, closing the door behind her as she entered your dorm room. She took a seat on your bed, looking visibly exhausted as she leaned back against the pillows. You followed close behind, leaning back next to her as she sniffled.

"I'm really sorry for waking you up, you were just the first person I thought of." Paige spoke quietly, gulit plaguing her expression. "I shouldn't have, I should've just waited til the morning."

You shook your head gently, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "No, no it's okay. I wasn't even asleep, I swear," you reassured her.

"I know but you have classes tomorrow morning and I should've been-"

"Paige," you interjected sternly as she sighed. "It's okay, I promise. I'm here for you, remember?"

Paige gazed at you as she frowned, feeling the weight of the entire team on her back. She shut her eyes as she sniffled, feeling the tears burn in her eyes as you reassured her. She felt them slowly fall as she sniffled, feeling your gaze soften as you watched her.

"Talk to me, please. Tell me what happened," you whispered gently, reaching out to wipe away her tears with your thumb.

Paige sniffled, leaning into your touch as she let out a shaky breath. "The game went fucking terrible. I played like shit but we kept getting fouled and the ref wouldn't call anything, leaving us at a disadvantage the entire time," she explained, her voice trembling with frustration. "And then, in the last couple minutes, I missed a shot that could've turned the game around. It's like... I let everyone down."

You listened attentively, your heart sinking at the pain evident in Paige's voice. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, P. You're still an amazing player,"

"It just felt like shit, it felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders, and I couldn't handle it," Paige continued as she sniffled again, wiping her tears.

Paige kept venting the entire night and you listened attentively, letting her pour out her heart. Despite the exhaustion you felt, you wanted to be there for Paige like she had done for you multiple times before ─ and of course, you couldn't bear seeing Paige so broken and hurt after a game.

It was around four in the morning when Paige had finally worn herself out, passing out in your bed as you sat beside her, gently stroking her hair as she slept. You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of affection for Paige, admiring her strength and resilience even in moments like these.

You fell asleep a few minutes after her and when she woke up, you were gone, presumably at your lecture. Paige woke up feeling a lot lighter than she had in awhile, knowing that you had been there for her through the night. She glanced around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings of your dorm, feeling a sense of comfort wash over her.

You were such a comfort to her, even the mere thought of you had her smiling. She stayed in your bed for a few minutes, the moments last night replaying in her head; the terrible game and how you had comforted her and let her rant until God knows how late.

Paige didn't know even know where she was going after the game until she had ended up at your doorstep ─ it was subconscious, effortless and almost second nature for her to come to you. The more she thought about you, the more her stomach began flutter and her lips began to curve up into a smile.

Then, her smile dropped. Oh shit, did she like you?

──

"Dude, I told you that was gonna be on the exam, didn't I? Didn't I, P?" Bryce leaned back in his chair before he glanced back at his best friend, who was currently zoning out on her food. "P? Paige, you good?'

"Huh?" Paige finally met his gaze as she nodded, processing his words. "I'm good, sorry uh... what?" She glanced in between Bryce and his teammate, a confused expression on her face.

Bryce sighed as he glared at her. "Oh never mind,"

"Bro, don't never mind me. Come on now, don't act like a twelve year old," Paige mocked as she nudged Bryce playfully with her elbow, earning a groan from her best friend.

Bryce sent her a glare before he continued. "I was just telling him that I said that was gonna be on the exam," he explained as Paige's expression turned more confused. "You don't even know what we're talking about, never mind."

Paige rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor Bryce, I didn't realize we were having a pop quiz in the middle of Chipotle," she teased, earning a laugh from Bryce's teammate.

Bryce chuckled despite himself. "Very funny, Paige. But you might want to pay attention if you don't want to fail your finals."

"Bro, you can't be talking. Where were you last night?" Paige raised her eyebrows as he opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by Paige. "Yeah, yeah exactly. You're probably drunk right now,"

"Oh my god, shut up," Bryce rolled his eyes as he shook his head, trying to hide a smirk. "I can't say no to pretty girls, you know this."

"Yeah but you say no to me all the time?" Paige's tone came out annoyed as Bryce sent her a glare.

Bryce scoffed, playfully rolling his eyes. "Pretty is stretching it, buddy. Plus, you're not my type..." He gestured to her Nike tech outfit as she shrugged, taking a sip from her fountain drink.

"You got the ugly genes, so..." The words came out of her mouth before she could process them and as she glanced up to meet Bryce's glare, she knew she messed up. Bryce's teammate just laughed, nodding along to Paige's words only to be met with both their glares.

"Says you, bro. You're uglier," Bryce's words came out stammered as Paige's lips turned upward into a cocky smirk.

"That's not what your sister said," she shrugged as his jaw dropped in shock.

Bryce finally found his voice, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "You... you did not just say that," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Paige shrugged nonchalantly, taking another sip of her drink. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger," she quipped as she put up her hands in defense.

Bryce's teammate continued to laugh, thoroughly entertained by the exchange. "Man, you two never fail to entertain," he said between laughs.

Despite the initial shock, Bryce couldn't help but chuckle at Paige's boldness. "Alright, alright, you win this round, P," he admitted with a grin. "If only you had a sister, damn it."

Paige just shrugged as she laughed, unable to suppress it any longer. She'd been hanging out too much you to realize how much she actually missed Bryce. However, the new revelation as of this morning made it slightly bittersweet ─ if she began going out with you, everything would change. Would there be anymore banter? Would she have to choose a relationship with you or a friendship with Bryce?

She decided in that moment, she wasn't going to do that to Bryce. He'd been there for her through all her highs and lows, and she couldn't bear to jeopardize their friendship for anything. As much as she might have feelings for you, Paige knew that her bond with Bryce was irreplaceable.

"Hey, P," Bryce's voice interrupted her thoughts, bringing her back to the present moment.

Paige looked up, meeting his gaze with a smile. "Yeah, what's up?"

Bryce smirked as he glanced up from his phone. "You ready to lose at Fortnite later?"

Paige laughed, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Oh, it's on. Get ready to get your ass kicked, Brycey boy."

──

The adrenaline from the game was still pumping through Paige's entire body as she walked off the court, feeling like she was on cloud 9. The game had been intense, with both teams giving it their all until the very end. But in the end, it was UConn that came out victorious, thanks in no small part to her incredible performance on the court.

The thrill of victory filled her with an indescribable sense of joy, and she couldn't wipe the smile off her face if she tried and she swore that nothing else could possibly make her happier. Until her gaze met yours, her heart swelling as she read your obnoxious poster.

"No, you fucking didn't," Paige muttered as her grin somehow grew as you laughed.

She recounted the late night conversation where she had told you she's always wanted one of her friends to make a poster for one of her games, and she can't believe you actually had done it for her. In that moment, Paige felt an overwhelming rush of emotions flood through her, filling her heart with warmth and gratitude.

As she made her way over to where you were standing, Paige couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for you. The sight of your familiar smile and the playful look in your eyes made her heart skip a beat, and she couldn't suppress the grin that spread across her face.

"Surprised to see me?" you teased, holding up the poster proudly.

Paige laughed, shaking her head in disbelief as she pulled down the poster so she could embrace you tightly. "Nah, I knew you were here cause I saw your location," she confessed as you laughed. "You're the best, you know that? You made my night,"

"Really? Even after the amazing game you just played?" You smiled, teasing her as you wrapped your arms around her in return.

Paige rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness in her gaze as she looked at you. "Yes, even after the amazing game I just played. You just make everything ten times better, you know that?"

You laughed until you met her gaze, and if this were any other moment, she would have been laughing too. She looked serious though, her eyes scanning your face to take in your reaction.

Paige thought back to lunch with Bryce, how she would never even think about going out his little sister ─ he wouldn't be that mad, right? How could he? You made her feel things she swears she's never felt before, she couldn't ignore the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach or the warmth that spread through her chest.

What if pursuing something more with you ruined the easy dynamic they had? What if it didn't work out and she'd lose both of you? However, all those what if's were thrown out the window as she gazed into your eyes.

"God, you're beautiful." Paige's words came out effortlessly as she pulled you closer. She'd told you plenty of times, but it felt more different now. She was fucking whipped, that's for sure.

You let out a soft laugh at her words, a rush of warmth coursing through your veins. You met her gaze with a mixture of surprise and adoration, her confession caught you off guard.

Paige kept gazing back you, taking in your features as if she were seeing them for the first time, her heart fluttering with excitement. There was something about the way you looked at her, with such warmth and affection, that made her feel like she was the most important person in the world.

In that moment, everything else faded away ─ the doubts, the fears, the uncertainties. Fuck it, she was sure you'd felt the same and if you didn't, she rather that than feel regret.

In an instant, she pushed her lips against yours. You were surprised for a second before you quickly melted into the kiss, the poster falling to the ground as your arms wrapped around her shoulders.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you surrendered to the intoxicating sensation of her lips against yours, the world around you fading into oblivion as you lost yourself in her.

Paige's fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss, her lips moving hungrily against yours in a frenzy of desire. Your senses were overwhelmed by the sweet scent of her perfume, and the taste of her lips that sent shivers down your spine.

"Hey, uh Paige?"

You both quickly pulled away as Paige whipped her head toward the voice. Ice and KK were standing there awkwardly as they glanced in between you, embarrassment and amusement on their faces. Paige wiped her lips with the back of her hand as she cleared her throat, sending them a glare as they exchanged glances.

"We just wanted to ask if... uh, you were going to dinner with us?" Ice asked quietly as you avoided their gaze, embarrassment clear in your expression.

"Obviously not, she's gonna be celebrating differently-"

"Shut up, KK." Paige sent her a glare as she giggled, Ice stifling her laughter as Paige looked back at you with a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, we'll go."

We? You smiled softly at the sentiment as KK kept giggling, her laughter echoing in the hallway. Paige glanced at you for affirmation as you nodded slowly, warmth filling her gaze as she nodded back at her friends.

Ice and KK exchanged a knowing look, their amusement evident as they tried to suppress their laughter. "Great! Y'all can come like... whenever. Sorry for interuppting," Ice said, her voice tinged with amusement.

"Are you, really?" Paige mumbled as KK let out another laugh.

"Someone's sassy tonight, ooo." KK joked as her and Ice began walking away, their laughter trailing behind them as they disappeared down the hallway. Paige rolled her eyes playfully at KK's comment, her lips quirking up into a smirk.

"Well, that was unexpected," you remarked with a chuckle.

Paige nodded, a grin spreading across her face. "Yeah, but you know what? I don't even care. I'm just... so happy right now,"

Her enthusiasm was contagious, and you found yourself grinning in response. "Me too," you admitted, unable to hide the warmth in your voice as you met her gaze.

Everything else was put in the back-burner and right now, it was just the two of you. The noise of the hallway, the hustle and bustle of campus life ─ all of it melted away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

After dinner, Paige drove you back to your dorm since it wasn't too far from the restaurant. It went well, you were pretty much friends with the entire team and it felt like your own special night too. And in some ways, it was. Paige's hands didn't leave your body the entire night, it was obvious something had shifted in the dynamic ─ however, it wasn't too much of a difference since she'd always been touchy with you.

As Paige parked the car outside your dorm, the atmosphere between you was charged with a new sense of intimacy. You lingered for a moment, neither of you eager to end the evening just yet.

"Thank you for tonight," you said, breaking the silence that had settled between you. "It was really fun."

Paige smiled warmly, her eyes shining with affection. "No, thank you," she replied softly. "For being you, for being here with me, for everything."

You felt a rush of warmth flood through you at her words, a sense of gratitude for the connection you shared with her. In that moment, you realized just how much Paige meant to you, how much her presence brightened your life in ways you couldn't even begin to describe. And how you couldn't even imagine a time when you weren't close with her, where she wasn't your conscious thought.

Without hesitation, you leaned in closer, your heart pounding with anticipation. Paige mirrored your movements, closing the distance between you until your lips met in a soft kiss.

As you pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, you found yourself lost in Paige's gaze. "I like you,"

You let out a breathless laugh at Paige's words, her kiss still lingering on your lips as you smiled. "Oh really? Couldn't tell,"

"Shut up," Paige laughed as she shook her head, her laughter filling the air with warmth and affection.

"I'm serious," Paige insisted, her expression softening as she gazed at you with unwavering sincerity. "I really do like you, more than I've ever liked anyone before."

You wanted to joke but you just couldn't, your heart beginning to race. "I like you too, P," you admitted, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "More than I ever thought possible."

You left the car after a few more passionate kisses, Paige's mind buzzing with pure excitement. As she began driving out of the parking lot, she felt her phone buzz and she quickly answered it.

"Hey, P, you still coming over to play some Fort?" Bryce's voice echoed through the speaker as her heart dropped. She glanced at the time before cursing under her breathe. "Jeez, did I catch you at a bad time?"

He let out a laugh as Paige joined him awkwardly, "Uh no, just kinda forgot. We just had dinner and I'm kinda tired."

"Bro, I have Redbulls and some beers in the fridge. Unless you're with a girl than you have no excuse," Bryce teased, his voice laced with amusement.

"Fine," Paige mumbled as she shut her eyes for second, before refocusing on the road. "I'll be there in 10,"

"Awesome, can't wait. Wait, can you get some pizza on the way I'm hungry," Bryce yawned as Paige's lips quirked up into an amused smile, shaking her head at her best friend's antics.

"Fatass," she joked before sighing, gulit tugging at her. "Fine, okay. I guess I'll be there a little later then."

"Great, see ya in a bit, P."

As she gathered her thoughts and prepared to head over to Bryce's place, Paige couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of guilt that settled in the pit of her stomach. But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on being there for his friend and enjoying their time together, just like normal.

She then decided that, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him. Paige found herself more determined to bury those doubts deep down inside. She couldn't risk jeopardizing her friendship with Bryce, not when it meant so much to her. And if keeping her relationship with you a secret was what it took to preserve that bond, then so be it.

──

"Paige," you laughed quietly as her hand kept inching up your thigh, embarrassment in your expression as you sent her a warning glare. Everyone's attention was toward the current basketball game that was happening, but Paige seemed more interested in teasing you than paying attention to her best friend's game.

You couldn't help but squirm uncomfortably in your seat, shooting her a warning glare in a futile attempt to deter her advances. "What? No one's looking," she gave you a smile as you sighed, your heart beginning to beat out of your chest.

Despite your initial annoyance, you couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through you at her touch, the heat of her hand sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh, don't tell me you're nervous. Aww, you're nervous?" Paige's lips were close to your ear, her breath warm against your skin as she teased you.

"I'm not nervous," you protested weakly, though the rapid beating of your heart betrayed your words.

Paige chuckled softly, her hand still resting on your thigh as she leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches away from yours. "Sure you're not," she whispered, her voice playful and teasing.

Paige swiftly turned her head toward the game before anything else could happen, annoyance filling your veins as you shook your head. Paige was having too much with this whole arrangement ─ practically everyone knew you were a thing at this point (well, with the exception of your brother and her best friend).

Paige loved teasing you, it was a part of what drew you to her. The way she could effortlessly lighten the mood and bring a smile to your face even in the most mundane of moments.

After the game had ended, Paige led you through the crowds as you looked for Bryce. Her hand was clasping yours tightly, not really caring who was looking as you navigated through the crowd.

Finally spotting Bryce amidst the crowd, you felt a surge of relief wash over you. With a smile, Paige led you towards him, her hand naturally pulling you toward him.

"B!" Paige called out, her voice cutting through the noise of the crowd as she waved to get his attention.

Bryce turned towards you, a smile lighting up his face as he caught sight of the two of you approaching. "Jeez, there you are! Took you long enough," he teased, his tone lighthearted as always. His gaze slowly dropped to your hands before you quickly pulled out of her grasp, nervousness etching your features.

"It was a big crowd, she was gonna get lost," Paige spoke quickly, her words tumbling out in an attempt to diffuse the tension. She shot you a reassuring glance, her eyes filled with understanding and empathy.

He looked at you two with a confused expression. "O-kay, whatever. You guys wanna go get food then head home, I'm starving." He looped an arm around both of you, pulling you into a tight embrace as he started leading the way through the crowd.

You and Paige exchanged a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between you as you fell into step beside Bryce. His demeanor helped to lighten the mood, and soon enough, the awkwardness of the earlier moment began to fade away.

After they'd gotten food and dropped you off at your dorm, Paige and Bryce began to walk to her dorm. There was silence between them for the first time in the night and Paige couldn't help but feel

A sense of unease settle in the pit of her stomach. She glanced over at Bryce, noticing the furrowed brow and distant expression on his face. It was clear that he was lost in thought, his mind preoccupied with something weighing on him.

"Hey, you okay?" Paige asked softly, her voice filled with concern as she reached out to gently squeeze Bryce's arm.

Bryce glanced back at Paige with a sigh, his expression turning annoyed. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

Paige looked taken aback as she scoffed, "What do you mean by that?"

Bryce let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he averted his gaze. "Bro, I know you and Y/N better than you know yourselves. You're both my family, you think I wouldn't notice you two are hooking up or something? It's kinda insulting, Paige."

The way he said her name made her stomach squeeze in discomfort, and Paige felt a pang of guilt at Bryce's words. "You're angry?"

"Angry isn't the word for it," Bryce sighed, his frustration visibly melting away as he looked back at Paige. "Seeing my sister and my best friend keep something from me isn't fun, like at all."

"I know, Bryce," Paige said earnestly, her gaze filled with remorse. "I'm really sorry. I should have been honest with you from the beginning."

"Did you think I would like, freak out or something?" Bryce's words came out quiet as he studied Paige's expression, searching for some explanation behind her hesitation to confide in him. "Because I wouldn't, Paige. I want you to be happy, you know that."

Paige shook her head, her expression filled with regret. "No, it's not that, Bryce," she replied softly. "I was just... scared, I guess. Scared of how you might react, scared of what it might mean for our friendship."

Bryce sighed, reaching out to give Paige's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, you don't have to be scared, P," he said gently. "Whatever makes you two happy, makes me happy too. It's honestly kinda great, cause like... I've always said that you're my sister and now that you're dating my sister, you're my sister-in-law so basically, we're related."

Paige couldn't help but snort at Bryce's ramble, shaking her head. "We're not dating," the words came out of her mouth before she could really process them.

Bryce's expression turned into surprise. "Wait what? Why not?"

Paige shifted underneath his gaze, uncertainty in her expression. "I guess it was too official, you know? I needed to tell you first, to get your stamp of approval."

"That's kinda thoughtful," Bryce's expression was confused before he smiled. "Alright, okay. I give you permission to ask out my little sister,"

"I never said permission, I said approval. You're making me sound like a pussy, B." Paige joked as Bryce sent her a glare.

"Same thing,"

"Not really," Paige felt his glare on her cheek before she laughed. "Fine, Brycey, you win."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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reiderwriter · 1 month

Note

hii I absolutely love your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a one shot with gun kink? maybe not really something *aggressive* but just gun kink in the plot !! and please smut with no angst, also maybe aftercare in the end? it's totally okay if you're not comfortable. im loving your kinktober one shots! have a good day :)

A/N: This being one of like... three gun kink requests I've received, we are all not seeing the pearly gates lmao. If you enjoy reading this, even 50% of how much I enjoyed writing it, then I'm happy 😚

Warnings: Undercover FBI Agent reader, gun kink, interrogation room sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, some BDSM themes, Spencer has to 'rough up' the reader etc.

Masterlist

Being rough-housed by a group of FBI agents and pushed against a wall before being handcuffed was never your idea of a fun Tuesday night. It wasn't exactly high on the list for any night of the week, really, but here you were.

“Caitlyn Grant? You're under arrest for being an accessory to a felony and evading law enforcement, whatever you say…” You drowned out the rest of the statement. It was nothing you didn't have memorized.

“You're not the usual drug crew, and you don't look sturdy enough to be on most of the other teams either. What part of the Bureau are you in?” You asked the lanky man currently pinning you to the wall as he made sure your handcuffs were aptly tight.

“You have the right to an attorney, if you can't afford one-”

“I waive my rights. It's not human trafficking. You wouldn't be working this case if you were human trafficking.”

The man just stared at you in vague disapproval as you grinned back at him. His closeness meant you could see every detail of his face up close, the five o'clock shadow, the dark circles from lack of sleep. On most of the agents you'd encountered, it had the effect of making them look older, a little haggard, and depressed. On this man, it was honestly very hot.

He started your pat down by spreading your legs, though honestly, if he'd asked nicely enough, you'd have done just that for him. You near enough told him just that as he reached the two pockets on the ass of your jeans.

“Watch it, Agent, my bite is worse than my bark.”

“Turn around.”

You pouted at his solid resolve, wondering what it would take to get the man to crack a smile or even a frown. Something that wasn't just disinterest slapped on a face and called a day.

You did as he asked, making sure your body pressed nicely up against his the entire way until your shoulders were resting on the wall and he was feeling along your waist.

“Come on, what kind of weapon are you going to find there?”

“Standard protocol, please let me do my job.”

“Standard protocol is calling one of your female agents over here to maintain the boundary, Agent. This feels more like you're just trying to cop a feel.”

Those words finally got a reaction. The subtle clench of the jaw as his hands tightened slightly on your waist had you suddenly regretting your decision to be put in handcuffs. Your hands should've been free to tuck the stray lock of hair that had fallen in his eyes behind his ear, free so your fingernails could trace a path down his face and neck and chest.

His gaze landed on the simple silver chain you wore around your list and he delicately pulled it out of your shirt, careful not to touch you (and avoiding you even as you arched your back into him).

With a quick tug, he pulled the necklace clean off your neck, not pausing to bother with the clasp at all.

“Clever boy. I'll see you in the interrogation room, shall I?” He said nothing as the female agents you'd mentioned earlier stationed themselves on either side of you as you walked away. You didn't break eye contact until the doors to the police van closed behind you.

Six months undercover on a case, and this was the first time you'd stepped foot in a police precinct since you'd ditched your real name and life.

The interrogation rooms hadn't changed in that time, at least, still grey and depressing. Time felt void as you waited for company, and thankfully, you weren't waiting long.

“Agent Y/N, sorry about the arrest, we wanted to make it look as real as possible while pulling you out.” The woman who greeted you obviously held the authority, and while you wanted to respect that, the sight of the man trailing behind her actually caught her full attention.

“Pleasure to meet you….?” You let the question hang open for both of them but kept your gaze fully focused on the man, who stood himself next to the door, keeping surprisingly quiet.

“I'm Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, we're from the-”

“Behavioural Analysis Unit, of course. I was close, you know, earlier. A face like yours wouldn't last five minutes in cartel land. I almost guessed cyber, but you looked a bit too bookish. Doctor Reid, hmm.”

“This interview is taking place with Agent Prentiss. Please direct all your questions to her.”

“Oh shit, sorry, where are my manners. I didn't mean to disrespect you like that, Agent Prentiss. It's just been a long few months.”

The other woman just chuckled and shook her head, leafing through some documents to pass you over the information on the case they needed assistance on.

“We think there's a serial killer in the drug ring you infiltrated,” the woman explained, passing over the files with the case details. You took a moment's breath before opening to the crime scene photos, steeling yourself for what you might encounter.

“There are probably a lot of serials in the organization. It's a drug ring. What makes this one worse?” You said, just as you flipped the file open and answered your own question.

“Shit- Okay, that's what makes this one worse. He can't be more than 15, right?”

The answering grimace on the two agents' faces suggested you'd been generous in your estimate. “Okay, how can I help?”

xxxxx

A few hours passed in the interrogation room, and you'd walked them through all of your up to date information on your case and cover. The chair wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were glad to be finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The interview was ending, and you could see an end to your undercover work swiftly following too with the BAU's assistance.

You weren't looking forward to having to acclimatize back into the real world. You'd gone from pushing papers at a desk 9 hours a day to rubbing shoulders with drug dealers and junkies, a lot of whom were kids, young people like you who had no other options than the streets and crime.

You made a mental note to give a few warnings to the younger kids on the streets to stay alert and then started getting back into character.

“Thanks again for your help, Agent. We appreciate your time.” Prentiss nodded at you as she gathered the folders, getting ready to leave.

Spencer Reid stood, too, stretching himself out as he rose from the chair, giving you quite the show as your eyes dragged from his face, down his chest and down further still as you appreciated the view.

The last few hours had been strictly professional, and you'd enjoyed bouncing ideas off of him, running through theories. Now, trying to get back into your ‘lusty barmaid’ persona, you thought instead about how much you'd like to bounce on him yourself, possibly while running your hands through his hair.

A girl could dream.

“Hold on a second, I'm still in cover, I can't go back out there looking this pristine, it's too suspicious,” you said, the two agents turning back to you curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone needs to throw me around a little. Rough housing, you know, a few bruises will do it.”

Prentiss looked at you, caught halfway between impressed and amused. The good Doctor however seemed to darken slightly, covering his shock with a tensed jaw.

“She's all yours, Spencer,” Wmily winked at the man, turning the door handle and beginning her exit.

“What? Why?”

“I don't hit women.”

“And I do? Emily, wha-”

But the door to the interrogation room has already closed with a small cackle, and you're already being drawn closer to the man like a moth to a flame.

Turning to face you, you see the shock of the situation on his face before he looks away in a flash, refusing to meet your eyes as he keeps himself close to the door.

“Doctor Reid, I'm not actually a criminal, you know?”

“I thought you wanted one of us to treat you like a criminal now.”

“You make a good point, shall we begin?”

He signed and rubbed his temples as you advanced, letting you get a little bit closer before holding his hands up in surrender.

“Wait, wait, tell me first, what should we be doing?”

You took a deep breath and expelled it, then took the time to think about it.

You would need some visible marks of the FBI's unkindness - wrists red, a bruise or two on your knees, maybe, from falling. The problem was, you couldn't think about how to get the marks without driving yourself insane.

There was a quick and easy way to get tender knees, an even easier way to mark up your neck and chest, but you couldn't figure out how to ask Spencer Reid to do those things without spreading your legs and letting him do whatever he wanted. You weren't sure you wouldn't do that eventually, anyway.

“Let's start with my wrists. You were too generous with the handcuffs earlier - just grab them really tight, pin me against the wall if it helps.”

He nodded and took a hesitant step towards you, thinking for a second, before grabbing one wrist and spinning you around. Before you could even process the action, he had you pinned, chest against the wall, arms above your head.

“Is that okay?” He asked, his grip tight but not bruising yet.

“A little tighter, I want the marks to last a while. Why is my face against the wall?”

He gripped tighter, the pain sending a jolt through your wrists that trailed all the way down to pool between your thighs.

“I thought you'd be less uncomfortable like this.”

“With your dick pushed up against my ass? Yes, Doctor, great decision.”

He let out a cold, quick laugh, leaving you flushed as he pushed your upper body into the wall, too, finally getting to the grip strength he needed to get attention.

“I'm sorry to disappoint, Y/N, but that's my gun,” the words whispered in your ear were the last straw as you shuddered in his grasp, his hands releasing your wrists as he stepped back a little.

You shook out your hands a little, trying to momentarily relive the stiffness in your joints.

He took a few paces to the desk and upholstered his weapon, placing it on the desk before joining you again.

“So you don't get confused again,” he explained at seeing your raised eyebrow.

“Oh so next time, it will be your dick?” You whispered, moving back to the desk and sitting yourself on the edge or it, picking up the gun and studying it for a few minutes.

“Y/N, put it down.”

“Ooh, possessive, are we?” You giggled, aiming it at him for a second before grabbing it by the barrel and holding it back out for him to grab.

“Hold it, point it at me or whatever. Maybe it'll help you rough me up.”

His brow furrowed, but he grabbed it anyway, not immediately slipping it into the holster as he stepped forward.

“What now?” He asked, and you shrugged.

“Whatever feels natural. And looks visible, I guess.”

It took him a few minutes to decide, surveying your body like it was a puzzle. Professionally, of course. You were about to speak up and urge him to get on with it when his hand shot out and wrapped around your throat.

You tried to gasp, but the grip was firm, and boy, was it driving you crazy. Your legs had naturally parted as you sat yourself on the edge of the desk, and he walked into that space now, his free hand still holding the gun.

Your body pushed forward into his, suddenly awash with arousal as your chest heaved with tiny breaths, lungs burning.

“Are you enjoying this, Y/N? Or is it Caitlyn Grant that's enjoying this?”

You felt the gun touch your thigh gently, and you moaned, just as he softened his grip on your throat.

“Answer me, please. This is an interrogation room, after all.”

You met his eyes, checking to see how far he would take this, how far you could push back.

“I'll admit, I'm not against mixing pain and pleasure.”

His gaze flicked down, slowly pushing his gun up the skin of your thigh, raising your skirt with the barrel to catch a quick glimpse of your panties.

“I can tell.”

If it weren't for his grip on you, you'd have lunged for him right then and there. The cool metal against your thigh had you shuddering against him, growing wetter by the minute.

“I read somewhere once that we can't pretend to be someone else without actually becoming them in some small way. You've been a cartel whore for six months, I wonder if this is a lasting effect.”

He was so close now all he needed to do to close the gap was change the angle of his head, but he kept you in place with that gun, pointing up from your pussy, flush against your stomach.

“I'll tell you a secret - the part of me that's aroused right now definitely predates this cover.”

His lips drop to yours, tongue clashing with yours furiously as he grabs the back of your head to angle you better.

Letting his hand drop back to your thigh, he gently coaxed you further open, skirt riding up. Putting down the gym momentarily, he pressed a wandering finger against your pantie-clad pussy, feeling your arousal before he used it to coat his fingers.

A second later and the offending pair of underwear lay discarded on the floor.

“Fuck, Spencer,” you said, gasping for breath as he again picked up the gun.

“You wanted this so badly, didn't you? You've been needing someone to treat you like this for months now. It didn't even have to be me.”

He traced circles on your thigh with the gun, and you twitched, years of training not letting you relax around the weapon and months of sexual frustration, making you desperate for something to touch you.

“Yes, yes, please touch me.”

The hand at your throat slid down to your chest and pushed gently urging you to lie back and let him do whatever he wanted with you. The desk was cold - metal biting at your bare skin - and it only sent more shivers down your spine as he lowered himself to his knees and parted your legs for his tongue.

The first touch was heaven, a state of bliss you'd been without in what felt like forever. His tongue danced across your folds as he tasted every inch of your exposed cunt, grip still strong on the gun pointed now to your chest, pinning you between the machine and the table.

You tried to be as still as possible, to take the pleasure he gave calmly, but you couldn't. You writhed, moaned, chest heaving as you tried to hold off the first orgasm you'd achieved with someone else in probably a year.

Like a man on a mission, Spencer Reid did not care. He gladly suffocated between your thighs as you squeezed them together, wrapping them around his head so you could keep feeling the insurmountable pleasure of his tongue on your pussy.

“Spencer…Spencer, fuck-” you said as he finally pried your legs apart, lifting them just slightly so his tongue could reach further inside of you, curling with each wave of passion. Your hands fisted his hair, desperate for something to ground you to the moment as your pleasure spilt out of you, orgasm jolting through you in tiny sparks of pleasure.

The gun moved first, coming level with your chest as you untangled your fingers from his hair. Spencer stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he kept the gun on you.

“I think this turns you on even more. You've been ruined by this cover, Y/N, you're so used to being in danger that you can't even get off without someone threatening you.”

You attempted to scoff, to brush off his words somehow, but his hand was suddenly back around your throat, picking you up off the desk and pulling you instead towards the room's one-way window.

“Look at yourself,” he said, again twisting you around so you were pressed into the wall, wrists above your hair, raising your shirt to expose the cold skin underneath. He ran the barrel across the fresh skin, leaving a field of goosebumps along his path.

“I don't think it would've mattered who came in to rough you up. I think you'd just as happily have convinced Emily to fuck your little pussy raw, right Y/N? As long as there was a gun…”

Your moan was the only response as he used the weapon to spread your legs. You naturally arched your back and kept your hands in place as he holstered the weapon momentarily to unzip his pants and let his cock free.

You couldn't see it, but you saw his reflection in the mirror as he slowly stretched you out with it, mouth dropping in a lustful ‘o’ as he fed his dick to you, hard and thick.

As soon as it was in, the gun came back out, this time to rest against your temple.

“Get yourself off,” his voice was so low it was practically a growl. “Use my cock, and pleasure yourself.”

Your body listened immediately, beginning to move back and forth on his cock as he held himself in place. His moans and groans were all the encouragements you needed, the gun at your temple was just made the pleasure more profound as you approached your release.

But he kept you pinned to the glass, your full range of motion limited, and you whimpered in frustration that you couldn't feel every inch of him.

“If you need something, use your words, Agent.”

“More, need more, please..please,” you gasped, breathing ragged.

The hands at your wrists released, and he fisted a hand into the flesh at your hip, your wrists resting on the glass next to your face as he took over your thrusting.

“Can't even do this anymore, what a spoiled little whore,” he said as his hips began snapping into you, reaching that spot deep inside you as you drooled against the glass, wondering if anyone had just happened to step into that room and what they must think about you.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my cock,” he said it, and entranced, your body did just that, your orgasm taking the last breath of strength you had as he too plunged himself deeper and stilled there, his cum coating your walls.

Neither of you moved for an eternity, but the first sign of clarity returning was the careful return of the gun to the holster.

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Spencer minimized the mess you made together, cleaning you up as he slipped out of you. Discarding it momentarily on the floor, he pulled your clothes back into position and led you back over to the chairs. Just as he moved to sit you down, though, you turned and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug.

His arms hung suspended for a minute or two before he let them rest on your back, stroking your hair.

“Sorry, it's been… it's been lonely, and I didn't realize how hard it had been until-”

“It's okay. Take your time,” he said, sitting down in the chair and letting you curl up in his lap, burying your head in his neck

“We’ll catch this guy, and then you're out, okay Y/N? We'll come back and get you out soon.”

Lifting your eyes to his, you nodded, pressing your lips to his with a smile as you again worked yourself back into character, regaining your earlier composure and lifting yourself from the man's too comfortable arms.

“Well, Spencer, what do you say we get me back into panties and handcuffs and cut Caitlyn Grant loose?”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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