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#i have something really close to this shirt
hischierhoney · 1 day
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Just Friends
Jack Hughes x Best Friend!Reader
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summary: You’ve been best friends with Jack for ages. He’s also been in love with you for ages, but he’s got that completely under control. Really, he does. Right? 5.2k words
warnings: alcohol/intoxication, non graphic mentions of surgery/blood/stitches, hospital stay, reference to Jack’s shoulder surgery :(
Jack finds you in his apartment kitchen, a black tie in his hand. He’s already dressed in his suit pants and shirt, and for once, he feels like hair looks almost presentable. You take the tie from him without a word, and you loop it around his neck, underneath the collar of his shirt. Meanwhile, he grabs your necklace off the counter and fiddles with the clasp.
You hum to yourself as you start to tie the tie. “Ready for the game today?”
He shrugs. “I’m always ready.”
Luke is there, too, shoveling cereal into his mouth and watching the two of you warily. As you loop the tie around your fingers, Jack slips the necklace around your neck, your skin soft under his fingers. He latches it, blindly, with expert precision, muscle memory. He’s done it a million times now.
You tug the tie into place and then smooth it out on his chest. He hasn’t put his jacket on yet, but you’ll fix the lapels of it, too. You take a half a step back and give him a once over. He stands, waiting for your approval with his breath held in his chest. It shouldn’t mean this much, you making sure he looks good, but it does. You reach up and tuck a lock of hair back into place atop his head, and he smiles happily.
“All good,” you say, dusting your hands together as if you’ve just finished a hard day’s work.
Jack squints at your face, spotting something, and he brings a finger up to brush against your cheekbone. “Eyelash,” he explains, and you hum, closing your eyes as he brushes it away. “Got it.”
“Thanks,” you murmur. “Come on, don’t wanna be late. And no cereal in the car, Luke.”
Jack rushes off to grab his jacket. When he comes back, Luke is dumping the last of his cereal into the sink, and Jack grimaces. You’re in the hallway, stepping into a pair of shoes. Luke turns to him with a smirk, and Jack shakes his head before his brother can even open his mouth.
“Don’t,” he whispers.
Luke rolls his eyes. “I just think you guys are-“
“You thinking is dangerous,” Jack says. “Save all that energy for the game.”
He walks away, down the hallway to find you. You reach up to fix his jacket for him, and then you reach for the car keys and hand them off to him. He grins and nudges his elbow against your side.
“You’re such a passenger princess,” he teases.
You shrug. “I’m very good at it!”
He’s not complaining, really. There’s nobody he’d rather see in his passenger seat than you. Your jersey hangs proudly from your shoulders, his name and number on the back, and it makes his chest feel warm. You’re his good luck charm. He just hasn’t told you that yet.
…..
Jack’s spent so much time convincing his brothers and his teammates and his parents that he’s not in love with you, that he can’t pinpoint when it actually happened. He’s not sure there was some big moment, some realization, some day where he looked at you and everything changed. You’ve just been so present in his life that maybe it was a sort of gradual thing. Maybe it’s always been there, and he’s been in denial since he was eleven and Quinn was teasing him on the playground near their house.
Now you’re in New York, closer than you have been in years, both distance wise and friendship wise. You have season tickets, because he’s playing in the NHL and he wants you at every game possible. You spend half your nights at his place when he’s home, and he ignores the funny looks Luke gives him about it. Honestly, he’s a bit tired of denying it all. He thinks maybe if someone just asked point blank he’d let it all spill out.
He reads the text from you and smiles- you’re on your way to the Rock, one of your friends in tow. He’d gotten you two seats for the season, so you wouldn’t have to sit alone. He sort of dreads the day you decide to bring a date, but then he wonders what guy would be stupid enough to go along with that. Jack’s cocky, he’ll admit it. He knows he’s good at hockey. He laughs at the thought of you dragging a date along to see him play.
Someone announces they’re ordering food before the game, from the deli down the street. Jack listens as his teammates put in their orders. Luke goes with his usual. Timo changes things up. When the assistant gets to him, he grins. He orders his go to, and then another, and asks for a can of Coke, too, for good measure. Luke gives a knowing roll of his eyes.
When the guy brings the food in, Jack takes his bag, fishes his sandwich out of it, and hands the other sandwich and the can of Coke back. “Can you get this to seat B322?” He asks, grinning widely. He knows your seat number by heart.
Luke sighs heavily next to him. The guy agrees, of course. Nico, who’s standing nearby, cocks his head in confusion.
“She’s coming straight from work,” Jack defends. The ribbing he gets from the guys will be worth it when he sees you after the game. “She’s gonna be hungry.”
“It’s a hockey arena,” Luke says drily. “There’s so much food here.”
“But she loves Krauszer’s,” Jack says, and Nico rolls his eyes. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t order her some?”
“Friend,” Nico says, drawing out the word. “Sure.”
Jack ignores him. He ignores Luke’s smirk, too. He eats his sandwich and finishes getting ready, and then he heads out onto the ice, knowing you’re there somewhere, probably sipping on a can of Coke.
…..
The issue, Jack finds, is that it’s getting harder to ignore the fact that he’s in love with you.
It was easier, before, when you were younger and he was more dumb and less aware of… everything. He could convince himself it was just puppy love, just absence making the heart grow fonder, when post high school saw the two of you split apart. But now you’re here, close, and yet not close enough. Jack wants more, and he can’t really ignore that feeling these days.
He’s out at a bar, team bonding, as Nico put it. Except that half the team is drunk, including Nico, and the only bonding Jack’s doing is the brotherly kind, trying to keep Luke from sneaking drinks, or worse, getting caught sneaking drinks. Sometimes he hates being an older brother. He’d wanted to come out, maybe talk to a girl, maybe take said girl home, or get her to take him back to her place so he wouldn’t have to worry about Luke overhearing. But it’s not really working, not with Nico hanging off his shoulder like a leech and Luke sneaking another shot, and god, Jack’s going to kill him. If you were here, you’d be keeping an eye on Luke, too. He wishes you were here.
He has a shot to take the edge of the annoyance off. Then he has another, and another, and then there’s a girl across the bar, smiling at him, and- she sort of looks like you, is the thing, but not quite. The sort of uncanny valley of it all is freaking him out. For a moment he wonders if hooking up with her would make it better- would get it out of his system, would scratch the itch. The sane, more sober part of him thinks it might just make it all worse. To have some girl under him and hear a voice that isn’t yours. Jack used to do this all the time. The thought of it makes him feel sick now. That’s new.
He downs another shot and passes his leech of a captain off on his problem of a brother, hoping the two of them will keep each other in line. Then he pulls his phone from his pocket and gets an Uber.
It’s only when he’s standing at your apartment door that he realizes he probably should’ve called first. You might already be asleep. You might be out. Maybe you have a guy over. His stomach does a somersault at the thought. He raises his hand to knock anyways- he’s come all this way.
You open the door with a smile on your face. “Nico called to ask if I knew where you went. Thought you might be headed here.”
Jack lets his shoulders drop. “They were annoying me.”
That’s not the real reason he left, but he can’t exactly tell you he saw the uncanny valley version of you and decided to leave. That would be… a lot. You seem to take his answer as the truth, because Luke is annoying on a night out, and Nico can be, too. Jack still probably should’ve told them he was leaving. He’ll get an earful about it. Oh well. The way you step aside to let him into your apartment makes it worth it.
He heads for the couch, and you laugh when he flops onto it, facedown. He likes your laugh. It sounds so much like you. He remembers the years when you were in college and he was far, far away from you, when he’d crack jokes on the phone calls just to hear you giggle. He presses his face into a pillow and hopes you don’t see the blush on his cheeks, or that you’ll attribute it to his drunkenness.
“Want food?” You call out, from the kitchen, he thinks. He groans loudly in response. “I have mozz sticks.”
He turns his head to the side and says, “fuck, I love you.”
He can say it here, in the comfort and privacy of your living room, in the relative safeness of the fact that he’s been drinking. You won’t think anything of it. You won’t realize how much he really means it.
The sound of your laugh is music to his ears. “Love you too, Rowdy.”
You don’t mean it the way he wants you to. That’s okay. He came to terms with that a while ago, listening to you say it over staticky phone calls. But you’ll make him mozzarella sticks, and you’re not upset that he’s here, so he’ll take it. He’ll take anything, really.
You come into the living room a few minutes later, plate full of food in hand, and make him roll over. He sits up slightly, leaning against the arm of the couch, and you lift his legs to sit under them. He doesn’t complain when you turn on some stupid reality tv show he hates- there are mozzarella sticks for him to eat, and the warmth of you under him, the weight of your arm where it’s draped across his calves. He can put up with the host’s annoying voice for this.
He falls asleep on your couch, half a mozz stick in his hand. When he wakes up, he’s tucked in with the quilt you’ve had for years now, a pillow under his head, and water waiting for him on the coffee table. You’re probably at work by now. He’ll send you a text to say thank you, later, unless he decides to just wait here until you come home. That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, really.
…..
It’s a Saturday, and Luke is out for lunch with some of the other younger players, so Jack’s fending for himself. Trevor, knowing this due to what he would call their cosmic connection, has seen it as an opportunity to talk Jack’s ear off over FaceTime. Jack has his phone propped on the kitchen counter, half listening as he cooks.
He loves Trevor- really, he does, but the guy could talk for hours upon hours and never run out of things to say. Jack lets him, because he knows Trevor likes talking, so he’s not going to be mean. He just chimes in with noises of agreement or disagreement at the right times. Then Trevor says your name, and he zones back in.
“I fucking knew you weren’t listening!” Trevor cackles, wide grin taking up most of the phone screen. “But the second I mention-“
“Shut up,” Jack groans, rolling his eyes. “I’m listening. I’m just also making lunch.”
“Right, right,” Trevor snarks. “Just for you?”
Jack knows what he’s insinuating. Honestly, as much as he hates to admit it, it’s not a bad idea. You’re not working today, and he could probably convince you to come hang out with him in exchange for free food. He’s bored enough to listen to Trevor go on and on. You could save him from it.
“Yeah,” he says, and immediately contradicts himself by picking up his phone and sending you a text.
He tries to listen this time, he really does. He cares about Trevor, he wants to hear what he has to say. He finishes cooking lunch, and then Trevor has to go, shouting something to someone in the background, and he hangs up. Jack sighs at the empty, quiet room. He thinks about texting Luke to see when he’ll be back, but that feels pathetic. Maybe Nico’s not busy.
His heart leaps when his phone buzzes with a text from you.
Lunch sounds good. I’ll be over soon.
He can’t wipe the grin off his face the whole rest of the day. You come over, and eat the rest of the food happily, sitting at the kitchen counter. He watches fondly and tells you all the drama Trevor just told him- screw you, Zegras, he was listening. You smile brightly up at him.
“Got plans for the rest of the day?” He asks, hoping desperately that you don’t.
You shrug. “Nope. I’m all yours.”
God, he wishes.
…..
Jack thinks that maybe, just maybe, he can’t really be blamed when it all comes crashing down on a Wednesday afternoon in April. It’s been coming for a while. He’s had time to prepare. It shouldn’t take him out the way it does, because he’s seen it coming from miles away. It shouldn’t, but it does anyways.
They pull him from the games and finally, finally, ship him off to Colorado to have surgery. He gets an email with the flight information, another with a hotel to stay in the night before, and instructions on how to book his flight back to Jersey after he’s released. They don’t want to book it now, for fear of something going wrong in surgery. Hockey teams are superstitious like that, even their travel management.
There’s another set of emails, too- ones from the surgeon, about his prep and things he needs to do and bring and what to expect from the healing process. He hasn’t bothered to open it. That’ll make it real. He just packs up some of his clothes, shuts himself in his room, and waits. He ignores Luke, then he ignores Nico, who he’s sure Luke has brought over. He ignores Quinn’s phone calls, too, and everyone else’s.
When you show up, though, knocking on his bedroom door and calling out his name, he can’t ignore it. He makes a noise that isn’t a go away, and you take it as an invitation in, which he supposes it was. You make a soft noise of disapproval when you see him, curled up in his bed, hood pulled up around his head to block out the world.
“Hey, J,” you murmur, padding your way across his bedroom. “What’s going on?”
He sniffles and presses his face into the mattress. “The surgery.”
You sigh and sit down on the edge of his bed. “Yeah.”
Jack’s not afraid of having surgery, really. He’s never been very squeamish, never one to shy away from blood draws or stitches or IVs. You know this. Everyone knows it, which is probably why they’re all so worried about his reaction to this. He doesn’t want to admit it really, but it’s you, so he finds the words slipping past his lips.
“Mom can’t come,” he says, voice raw and scraping. “Or dad. Too short notice. And- and Luke and Nico and Quinn are gonna be busy, obviously, and I just… all this talk about surgery all this time and I didn’t think I’d have to do it alone, you know? It couldn’t wait till after the season so I could-“
He breaks off into an embarrassing, breath stealing sob. You make a soothing little noise and lean down next to him, scooping him up into your arms. It sort of helps and sort of makes it worse. The tears flow freely now. It’s just you. All his walls are down.
“You won’t be by yourself, Jack,” you murmur, and he waits for the reassuring words, that you’ll all be with him in spirit, that he’ll be home in no time, that he’s never alone. Instead, you say, “I took some time off. I’m gonna fly out with you, be there for the surgery.”
He pries one eye open, waiting for the punch line. There isn’t one. Just you, watching him carefully, holding him close. He knows how hard it is for you to get time off right now. It’s your busy season at work. And yet, here you are. Tears start running again. The whole world goes blurry. You just brush them away, one by one.
“Oh, honey,” you soothe, voice low and soft. “You didn’t think I’d let you do it alone, did you?”
God, he loves you. And he thinks this might be the final straw, the last puzzle piece. There’s no denying it now. You brush stray hairs from his face and press warm kisses to his forehead while he admits that he’s scared, not of the surgery but of what comes after, of the healing and the rehab and everything involved in it. You draw soothing patterns on his skin and just listen, because you know him well enough to know he needs to get it off his chest. He thinks about telling you how much he loves you as he starts to drift off, but he thinks better of it. There’ll be a better time than this, tear stained and curled up in his bed like a little kid. For now, it’s enough to know you love him, in any way, shape, or form.
…..
Jack wakes up in a hospital bed in Vail, Colorado, utterly disoriented and freezing cold. The ceiling is this ugly grey color, just like the rest of the ceilings in the building have been. He’s spent a lot of time staring at them in the last 24 hours. He blinks, and the tiles blur and swirl, and he hears his name in your voice. He tries to hold on, but he’s so, so sleepy, so he closes his eyes.
He wakes up again with no idea how long he’s been out. He’s warmer now. There’s an extra blanket laid over him, and a hand holding his. Hm. It feels nice. He squeezes his fingers experimentally. He hears movement to his left. A plastic cup appears in his field of vision, and he suddenly realizes how thirsty he is. He turns, slightly, and finds you.
“You’re here,” he says, quietly.
Your face is a little out of focus, but he thinks you smile. “Yeah, of course I am. Told you I would be.”
He knows that. He knows you flew out here with him, eating snacks on the plane before he hit the 12 hours before surgery mark and he had to stop. You checked into the hotel with him, got all the supplies ready for after the surgery, got him here, promised you’d be waiting when he woke up. But now he’s here, post surgery, and you’re holding his hand, and his chest hurts in the best way.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” you murmur, lifting the cup to his lips. He takes a sip. “Does it hurt?”
He shakes his head gingerly. He’s a little achy, but nothing that would make him cry normally. He can’t help it, it’s probably the meds. He remembers crying when he got his wisdom teeth out, too. He tries to tell you as much, but it comes out garbled and teary and raw. You shush him, smoothing your hand over his forehead and pushing his hair out of his face. That feels nice. You’re warm.
“Okay. It’s okay,” you soothe. “Take a breath. It’s alright.”
He does his best. You help him take little sips of water, and eventually the tears dry up. He’s left sitting there, your hand running through his hair, and he suddenly feels so, so sleepy. He turns his head and blinks at you. You’re clear in his vision now, beautiful as ever.
“You’re pretty,” he mumbles.
He thinks it all the time, he may as well say it. Nothing’s holding him back now. You laugh, and your face gets blurry again. He sighs.
“You’re pretty,” you say back.
He rolls his eyes, but he smiles anyways. “Hmm.”
“Are you sleepy?” You ask, thumb brushing against his temple. He nods. “You can go to sleep, okay?”
“You’ll be here when I wake up?” He asks, feeling a little vulnerable, suddenly.
“Yeah, Jacky,” you murmur, and when he closes his eyes, he thinks he feels your lips against his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The third time he wakes up, you’re sitting next to him, eating ice cream out of a little plastic cup with one of the tiny wooden spoons. The tv in the room is playing that same stupid reality show. The host’s voice would piss him off if he wasn’t so focused on how adorable you look. He inches the fingers of his good hand towards you, towards where your knee is pressed against his bed. When he makes contact, you jump nearly a foot in the air. He can’t help but giggle.
“Jesus,” you mutter, shaking your head at him.
“Nah, just Jack,” he teases.
You roll your eyes. “Someone’s feeling better.”
If he’s being honest, he still feels a little loopy. Your face is in focus, but everything feels a little softer around the edges. His fingers scramble against your knee, and you laugh, leaning close. You set down the ice cream and reach to tangle your hand up in his. That’s nice. He doesn’t get to do that a lot- hold your hand. Maybe he should have surgery more often. You smooth his hair out of his face again. It’s such a caring motion that it sends his heart stuttering.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, quietly.
You shrug. “What kind of best friend would I be if I wasn’t?”
And. That’s nice, but it’s not really what he wants to hear. He wants you to be here because you love him. He probably wouldn’t spend hours in a hospital waiting room for Nico, probably wouldn’t sit and wait for him to wake up. He’d bring him food after, when he got home, would help him however he needed. But to fly halfway across the country just to be here? He’d do that for you in a heartbeat, but he’s not sure there are many others he’d do the same for.
You seem to notice the way he’s staring, and you wave the wooden spoon at him. “You want some ice cream? The nurse said to call when you actually woke up. I’m sure she’ll give you one if you turn on the charm.”
He blinks slowly. “I love you, you know that?”
It’s past his lips before he can take it back. It should be terrifying. He should feel sick to his stomach. Maybe it’s the hospital drugs, or maybe it’s just that he’s been holding it in for so long, but it doesn’t feel scary. He sort of just feels relieved.
You smile brightly. “Yeah, I love you, too, Jack.”
He huffs. “No, you don’t get it-“
Before he can get another word out, the nurse comes in. He wonders if you pressed the button when he wasn’t paying attention, or if hospital staff just have comically bad timing. He lets out a groan. You give him an amused smile.
“Welcome back, Jack,” the nurse says. He reads her nametag- Nancy. “I’m just going to do a little checkup, alright?” She turns to you. “If you want, you can step out into the hall.”
By the time he’s squeezing your hand to keep you there, you’re holding onto him tightly, too. Huh. That’s interesting.
“She can stay,” Jack says.
You nod. So does Nancy, a knowing smile on her lips. Jack wonders if she sees this a lot. Guys with friends who sit by their bed, oblivious to the fact that said guy is hopelessly in love with them. Maybe it’s a common thing in hospitals. Maybe it’s not just Jack. That’s a nice thought.
He gets his blood pressure taken, and his pulse, and he gets asked to take a few deep breaths for what seems to be just the fun of it. She asks his pain level- a 3, at which point you break in and tell the nurse that his three is more like a five. She smiles at the two of you. When she goes to leave, Jack speaks up.
“Could I have some ice cream?” He asks, hoping the way his voice cracks on the words makes her sympathetic.
Ice cream does sound good. His throat feels raw, and his mouth is dry. And he’s starving.
Nurse Nancy smiles and looks at you. “What do you think? Has he been well behaved enough?”
Normally, Jack would take a little offense to it. But he turns to you, and you’re smiling bright, lighting up the whole room. His stomach does a somersault. He wonders if the way he feels about you is visible on the heart monitor, if his pulse picks up every time he looks at you.
“He’s the best,” you answer, and he melts. “Give him all the ice cream you’ve got.”
Ten minutes later, you sit there, holding a container of chocolate vanilla swirl. He’d been ready to eat it on his own until he remembered his arm, the surgery, the whole reason he’s here. He’d had to settle for letting you feed it to him. Maybe settle is the wrong word, really. It’s nice to be taken care of, even nicer when you’re the one who’s doing it for him.
He thinks maybe he’s still loopy, because in between bites, he pauses, looks at you, opens his mouth, and puts his foot directly in it. “I meant it, you know. I love you.”
You nod. “I know.”
He’s too far into this to stop now. “No, I-“
You interrupt, dropping the spoon in the cup to place your hand over his. “Jack, honey. Tell me later, when you’re not high off anesthesia, okay?”
Oh. He cocks his head, slightly. His mouth tastes like chocolate and vanilla. You smell like flowers. Like the lilacs in the backyard of his childhood home. There’s a light and warmth in your eyes that makes everything feel a little bit better.
“And if I tell you later,” he says, feeling braver than he ever has before, “are you gonna tell me something back?”
You laugh. It’s still music to his ears. You pick up the spoon again, scooping up a bit of ice cream. His gaze stays locked on you.
“Yeah,” you say with a nod. “That I mean it the same way you mean it.”
That’s enough for Jack, for now.
He tells you again the next day, waits a full 24 hours because a part of him is worried it was all some sort of drug induced dream. But you’re packing up the suitcases, that same stupid show on the TV, and he turns to you where he sits on the edge of the bed and says it.
“I love you. Like, really love you. As more than a friend.” His heart is in his throat.
You drop the hoodie you’d been holding into the bag, walk across the room to him, and come to stand between his legs. He’s holding his breath. You hook your finger under his chin and pull his face to yours. He thinks he recognizes the look on your face, from the kitchen when you helped him tie his tie, from the living room with a plate of mozzarella sticks in your hand, from every moment he was feeling all his feelings for you.
“Yeah,” you say, kissing his cheek. “I really love you too.”
When you kiss him on the lips, soft and sweet and everything he’s wanted for ages now, he thinks that maybe the whole mess has been worth it.
…..
He sits in a wooden chair on the back deck of the lake house. It’s mid summer, the week of the 4th of July. The heat is nearly unbearable, heavy and sticky and inescapable. Trevor and Luke are on the grass, throwing a football back and forth. Jack’s trying not to check the time obsessively.
Quinn, who’s sitting next to him, gives him a look when he picks up his phone again. “She’ll get here when she gets here.”
Jack rolls his eyes and sinks further into his seat. “You’re a dick.”
“Jesus, I know she’s your friend but…” Quinn is shaking his head. “You’re being obsessive.”
He hasn’t told any of them. Not about the hospital bed confession, or the kiss, or anything that came after it. The flight back to Jersey, his head on your shoulder. The way you took care of him before he flew to Michigan for the off season. The late night calls the two of you have shared since then. He’s itching to see you. It’s been far too long. He’s been scared to tell them because he’s scared you’ll get here and it won’t be real. He’s being ridiculous, he knows it, but he can’t help it. It’s you.
He hears it when your car pulls up in the driveway. He stands up, ignoring the look Quinn gives him. He’s not quick enough- you must’ve parked and ran inside immediately. You come racing out onto the back porch, eyes wide, smile even wider, and he could melt into a puddle right there in the hot summer sun. You’re brighter than all of it.
He pulls you into a kiss right there, in front of everyone, earning a series of surprised yelps and gasps and cheers. He doesn’t care about anything else. You’re here, and you’re kissing him back, and that’s more than enough.
“Fucking called it!” Trevor yells, and Jack laughs.
“We all did,” Quinn says. “Glad you two finally figured it out.”
You won’t be here forever. You have work, and a life in the city. But for now, for this little slice of time, he gets to have everything he’s always wanted. That’ll hold him over for the rest of the off season. Or, more likely, until he caves in and gets an early flight back to Jersey to spend more time with you. From the way you smile when you stare up at him, he thinks it probably won’t be long.
a/n: thanks for reading! have been wanting to write about Jack for a bit & he’s just so best friends to lovers coded. so here we go!
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footiecent · 2 days
Text
not your fault
(emily fox x reader)
in which you're obsessed with your girlfriend (especially her jawline)
warnings: slightly suggestive? almost all fluff
word count: 1.1k
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It's not your fault. Really, it's not.
“Baby, don’t you have to get up soon?”
You hum in reply, half asleep. 
You’re so comfortable. Your head is tucked protectively into the crook of your girlfriend’s left shoulder and neck while you lie almost entirely on top of her, the covers burying the both of you into a warm, delightful cocoon. Emily’s left hand is slowly moving up and down your back, and everything is just perfect.
“You can’t be late for work again.”
You open your eyes at that, but at the first moment you start to untangle your arms from her waist and feel her body heat dissipate, you realize that maybe you can stay for just another minute.
So, you decide to flop back down. Though, you’ve at least managed to roll your upper body partially off of her, giving you a perfect view of her side profile as she closes her eyes, not having to get up for practice for another half-hour. 
You can’t help but to reach out your hand and run your thumb along her sharp jawline—mind assaulted by memories of the night before when you see the marks littered below it.
Damn. She’s gonna kill me, you think. She’s told you so many times that covering hickies up before practices is a bitch, and looking at these marks—ones that might be a few too many shades past concealable—you realize you’re fucked. 
You start to analyze the best plan of action, landing on one that has you placing a gentle kiss onto her jaw before springing up from bed and hurriedly walking to the bathroom to wash up. All you have to do is leave before she gets up. Easy work. Easy peasy…
You’re so close—you’re at the door, knelt down with one shoe on when you hear her.
“Y/N! Come on!” she yells. 
Yikes.
You manage to put your other shoe on right as she appears in your vision, very clearly ticked off. 
“It’s not my fault?” you try, walking towards your very beautiful, and very pissed girlfriend.
“Oh, so it’s my fault I have to cover these up?” she says, pushing your shoulder when you stand in front of her.
Looking at her face, you decide that telling her you literally just look so incredible at every moment it’s not my fault you’re mine and I can’t help it would not exactly help your case. So, you decide to resume your quick exit, quickly kissing her cheek and saying, “Have a good practice babe, I love you!” as you grab your keys and leave your shared flat. 
You do make a mental note to buy Emily’s favorite chocolates after work. 
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Like really, it's her fault. Who gave her the right to look that good after a game?
You’re reminded that you’re always completely in the right when you’re sitting at the Emirates two days later, watching your girlfriend wrap up a defensive masterclass against Chelsea. For the first time in a while, London is sunny, and the beautiful weather only adds onto the incredible mood in the stadium as the full-time whistle blows and cheers thunder throughout every corner.
You can’t help but stare at her while she celebrates with the rest of the team. Lotte likes to joke that the two of you could melt taffy with just one of your lovesick glances, but you can’t help it. It's her fault for looking so good after a game—sweaty, smiley, and positively glowing after helping her team to a win. 
She spends time walking around the stadium, signing autographs and taking pictures, while you chat absentmindedly with Alessia, who came to greet you before starting her rounds of the stadium. But when Emily finally makes her way towards you—lifting her shirt up to try and wipe some sweat off her face—you start thinking about your plans for after. Alessia catches your change in demeanor, rolling her eyes and walking away while muttering something under her breath. 
“Did you enjoy the game?” your girlfriend asks, stepping in front of you, grinning from ear to ear. You both look disgustingly in love as the sun shines down and highlights her vibrant smile. 
“Of course I did. How could I not, superstar?” 
Being in the stands means you hover tall over Emily, enabling you to comfortably wrap your arms around her neck as she looks up at you. You ignore the few stares that direct their way towards you two as you relentlessly press kisses onto her jawline and cheek. She’s laughing as she playfully tries to shove you away, but you can’t help but hold her a little tighter and whisper just how excited you are to get home. 
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So, she should stop getting annoyed. She should know that you’ll never truly be satisfied. 
Your watch reads ‘8 P.M.’ as you cuddle up to Emily’s side on the white couch in your living room. The two of you had rushed home from the afternoon game, unable to resist the allure of enjoying each other’s company for a few hours.
And now, after redressing yourselves, cooking and eating dinner, washing the dishes, and tidying up the kitchen, the two of you are sitting together, more innocently enjoying each other’s company. She has a book out while you scroll mindlessly through Twitter, poking her side every few minutes to draw her attention to a funny tweet. 
After thirty minutes, however, Emily is deeply immersed into her reading and you’re bored. So, you resort to beginning your favorite activity: staring at her. You look up at her while your head rests against her arm, and you’re still mesmerized by her beauty even years into your relationship.
“What?” she asks without looking away from her book.
“You’re hot.”
She dismisses the comment with a small snicker, but places a kiss onto your forehead regardless. 
“We already fucked today, let me read in peace.”
You huff, but the both of you are well-aware that you aren’t deterred by small obstacles. So naturally, you begin to press a few open-mouthed kisses right below her jaw. She indulges you for a moment, closing her eyes and letting her book rest on her lap. But when a kiss turns into a stinging bite, she opens her eyes and grabs your shoulder. 
“C’mon, stop it. I have to go in for recovery tomorrow, you know that,” she whines. “I already stopped you from leaving marks once today!”
But she should know that you simply can’t help yourself. She should’ve known that you were going to toss away her book from her other hand, grab her wrists, and straddle her lap. She really should know that the stern look she sends you—with her jaw clenched, almost sharpened—while sitting underneath you only makes her hotter. 
She should’ve known that she was going to wake up the next morning with quite a few more marks. 
After all, it's not your fault. 
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girlokwhatever · 3 days
Note
can we get a Paige x reader where Paige is like coming to terms with being gay or like coming out pleasee 🙌
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✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。awakening,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader
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paige vividly remembers the day she realized you were her gay awakening.
the two of you met in a human development class. you came in late on the first day and sat down right next to her, some of your hair sprawled right onto her computer. you immediately apologized, pulling your hair into a bun and sending her a soft smile. obviously it wasn’t a big deal and she told you that, helping to ease your nerves.
you thought she was pretty, hair also pulled back in a bun and sat comfortably in a sweatsuit. she smiled at you with such reassurance it melted you, maybe she knew how nervous you were.
you and paige quickly became close. you worked on assignments together, went out to lunch after class, and she even introduced you to all her basketball friends. you also introduced her to yours, hiding your blush when your friends sent you suggestive glances. but it wasn’t like that, paige was just your friend. you didn’t even think she was gay. whenever the two of you talked about your past relationships, she only ever talked about guys.
it was your first year at uconn, so you were definitely trying to just navigate your way around your first year. you also really missed your parents. when paige got her injury during a game and couldn’t play anymore, you saw how much it affected her. you remembered telling her all about your family and she said they sound super fun to be around, so you asked her if she wanted to go back home with you.
she said yes.
everyone loved her, to say the least. she felt so welcomed in your home. your mom even made her a ‘get well soon’ cake. your younger siblings clung to her, asking to play basketball and video games.
paige really loved your family.
you carried her bag to your room and told her that you’ll have to share a room since there’s no other space. you even offered to pile up blankets on the floor and sleep on that, but she refused to let you do that. i mean, it wasn’t really a big deal. you’ve shared a bed before.
you both took your respective sides of the bed, but paige’s heart was pounding for some reason and she couldn’t stop thinking about you. your scent was everywhere, permeating her senses and making her mind all fuzzy.
that’s when it happened. that’s when she realized she was so in love with you. so enamored by you that she hadn’t thought about anyone else since she met you. but she quickly pushed those thoughts back down. she knew you didn’t like her. there was this guy back at school that you’d been talking about and things seemed to be going pretty well. so instead of talking you to sleep and leaning into your warmth, paige turned her back to you and faced the cold-front.
after you guys got back to school things felt different.
you were going to one of the team’s games wearing a nika mühl shirt since paige couldn’t really play at the moment. when she saw, she insisted you change to her jersey. you said no because nika was also your friend, but she really kept pushing it.
“this is stupid.” she heard you mutter it under your breath, probably hoping she wouldn’t hear. you ended up not changing, and paige gave you the silent treatment. she started to regret introducing you to her friends, she only wanted to you care about her.
another incident happened when paige met the guy you’d been talking to, jeremy.
he was hanging out at your dorm with you watching a movie. Godzilla or something. it was alright, but you couldn’t really say you were having fun. he was really nice and funny, but he wasn’t really what you were looking for. maybe he’d be more fitting as a friend.
paige, not knowing you were hanging out with him, walked straight into your dorm blabbing about how she bought you snacks for your movie night. the same movie night she said to cancel because she couldn’t make it.
“these were the last two bags they had and i got so freaking excited-“ she’s looking up at you, letting her jaw fall before she quickly catches it. she didn’t know he’d be here with his arm draped around you. she didn’t even know you two were still talking.
paige had been telling herself that she didn’t like you ever since that night at your house. she’s not into you and definitely not gay. but now, in this moment, she feels that mask slipping away and being taken over by hurt and anger. you must’ve been glad she canceled plans so that you could hang out with your boy toy.
“paige.. this is, um. this is jeremy. jere, this is paige.”
jere. she’s mentally rolling her eyes but putting a smile on her face. you’re walking towards her in the kitchen but when she notices him following behind you all she can think about is stepping back and far away from this situation.
“hey, nice to meet you.” he’s holding his hand out for paige to shake, and she does. all while feigning her perfect smile. you see right past her though.
“nice to meet you too jimmy.”
“jeremy.”
“oh, yeah, my bad, jeremy.”
she catches you glaring at her and begins to feel a little bad, but this guy doesn’t deserve your attention and your time. she knows you’re too good for him. she’s really just looking out for you, being your best friend. because that’s what you two are. best friends.
“well jeremy-“
“is it ok if i just, steal her away for awhile? really important stuff i gotta tell her.”
a flood of relief washes over you because he’s nodding and kissing your cheek as he walks out the door. you wipe his kiss away and take a seat on one of the stools against the counter. you can’t believe the audacity on paige, but you’re silently thanking her for getting rid of him.
“what’s going on? what’s so important that you have to tell me right now?”
“oh, that was just an excuse to get him out.”
“what?!”
“well i could tell you didn’t want him here so..” she didn’t actually know if that was true, but she wanted him gone. and now he is. the grin on her face angers you, even though she’s right. how smug shes being about it rubs you the wrong way and you’re almost embarrassed because she’s right—you didn’t want him here.
“aw thanks paigey. i really wanted you to kick out my date.”
paige wants to scream in your face about how much she likes—no, loves you. she refrains though. she knows you don’t feel the same and doesn’t want to lose your friendship. the friendship that has held her together when all she felt like doing was falling apart.
she goes on the defensive because she doesn’t like your tone or the fake smile you’re giving her. she just wants to lay down with you and catch up on life, maybe ask why you didn’t tell her about him. but as soon as she starts talking, she regrets it.
“sorry i was trying to be a good friend. sorry as soon as i said i couldn’t make it you decided to have your fuck buddy over to take my place.”
“are you being serious? you canceled on me! and by the way, he’s not my fuck buddy.”
“then what is he? your boyfriend?”
you don’t really know what to say because she has a point, he’s not your boyfriend. in your heart, he’s nothing to you romantically, but you don’t want to give her a satisfaction of being right.
“i don’t know, maybe! he fucks me like he loves me.”
you’re walking away from her and into your room, searching for your pajamas. you switch your clothes out and you hear her footsteps tracing yours.
she stands there watching you change, feeling her whole body light up. what does that even mean, he fucks you like he loves you?
it’s when her stomach sinks that she knows you’re all she cares about, and she’s not afraid to admit it anymore. she’s never felt this type of jealously before. she’s never been in love like this before either. with a girl. is this what it’s like?
“what does that mean?”
you grow hot under her gaze, wondering why it’s bothering you now that you’re half naked in front of her when it’s never bothered you before. she’s got this solemn expression on her face and it feels like she trying to look into your brain.
“what does it matter to you?”
you realize you didn’t like jeremy because you really just wanted paige. it hurts that you’ll never have her and you’ll just have to find someone else, hoping they can make you feel a fraction of the way she makes you feel. you realize with paige that even if you’re arguing, you’ll always be happy to see her. to feel her presence in any room. she’s always saying the stupidest things and making you smile.
paige fears the same thing. is she going to have to settle for someone else that isn’t you? all because it took her so long to be ok with who she is and how you make her feel. even now, your anger all directed towards her, she admires and loves you. you’re so beautiful and genuine. she remembers when you two went out last month, probably the last time you hung out without arguing, and you had the biggest smile on your face. she realizes now all this is because of her. she argues with you and pushes you away because she’s too drawn to you. if she keeps you close, she can’t stay away.
“because.”
“because? because what, paige?”
“because i really love you.” she pauses, trying to find the wording so she doesn’t fuck this up. you’re staring at her, wide eyes, and you think deep down maybe it’s as more than friends.
“i really love you. more than anyone else i think. more than i’ve ever loved a girl, or a guy. i love you in the type of way where i can’t stay away from you and i have this weird feeling whenever i see you. like butterflies. i love you in the typa way where i want to hold you and kiss you, and spend all of my time with you cause when you’re not around all i do is think about you. even when you’re around, i can’t think about anything else. i.. yeah. i know that i love you.”
“paige..”
“and i hate that you like that guy. jimmy or whatever. i hate him because you like him. i wish i could be him, i wish you felt that way about me and not him. i’ve never liked a girl before, especially not fallen in love with one, but you changed that for me. when you flung your hair all over my damn computer the first time we met, even then i had it out for you, just didn’t know it yet.”
her word vomit concludes and you’re both shocked. she’s shocked she admitted it and you’re shocked she feels that way. about you, of all people. you wish you had recorded it so you can listen to it on repeat forever.
as soon as you open your mouth to speak, she closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the door frame. she didn’t really think about the repercussions too hard and now she has to prepare herself for the rejection.
“paige, i love you too. as more than a friend. i never actually slept with jeremy because i just wanted you. i never said anything about it because i thought you weren’t into girls and-“
she’s got you wrapped around her, clinging to you and she’s kissing you with so much need it might consume her. your lips are soft and moving against hers so perfectly she thinks it might be a dream. she’ll wake up and realize none of it was real. because that’s what you are to her, a dream.
you pull away and look at her, foreheads pressed together. she’s looking at you too, a stupid smile on her face like she’s just won the lottery. in her own special way, she has.
“love you so much, you have no idea.”
she’s pulling you back into a kiss, cupping your face with gentle hands and pulling you impossibly closer. in this moment, you feel heaven’s eternal sun shine on you and paige, melting your souls together and making you feel all warm and bubbly.
“so, i’m gonna do this better later i promise, but will you be my girlfriend?”
“yeah, yes, i will.”
she’s kissing you again and now she’s certain it’s real. she feels you holding her and knows it’s real. she curses herself for not just admitting how she felt sooner, but it ended up with her here in your embrace, so how bad could it really be?
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩୧⋆。🕯. -ʚɞ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊
HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS!!
living for these requests atm
also i hope you guys listened to the song, it’s so gay awakening core
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sunny44 · 2 days
Text
Stubborn
Paring: Carlos Sainz x Leclerc!reader
Warnings: mentions of surgery, appendix removed, sickness and maybe other things
Summary: Carlos insists on going to the race even after just having surgery.
This story is the second part of Secret Love, but if you haven't read the first part you'll understand this chapter here without any problem. But I would recommend you read it.
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Today was race day and we were getting ready to leave the hospital. Since the surgery went well, they discharged Carlos.
“Honey, I’ve finished packing your things. Can we go to the hotel and…” At that moment, he emerged from the bathroom wearing the Ferrari shirt. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“We’re heading to the Paddock,” he said. I looked at him in disbelief.
“Of course not, are you crazy? You just had surgery and you already want to go back there?”
“Honey, I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. You have stitches in your stomach and you already want to go there? You’re not even going to race.”
“Babe.”
“No, listen, if you want to go, fine.” I angrily threw the rest of his things into the backpack. “But I’m not going with you.”
“Y/n.”
“No, I went through hell yesterday fearing something might happen to you, only for you to tell me you want to go there to watch the race.” I zipped up the backpack. “I hate this, you and Charles are just the same.”
“What does your brother have to do with this?”
“That you both have this reckless tendency to put your lives at risk for stupid things.” I tried to control myself from crying. “I won’t have another one in my life who makes me go through this.”
Before he could say anything, his father entered the room, and I stormed out, heading back to the hotel.
It’s things like this that makes me angry. I already have two brothers who are always putting themselves in danger and often doing unnecessary things. I never used to be so afraid of these things until Jules’ death. It was a dark moment in our lives, and knowing that he died in a way that my two brothers and now my boyfriend could also die leaves me extremely worried and on the verge of having a panic attack.
So the fact that he wants to go to the paddock to watch the race after surgery makes me furious.
When I got to the hotel, I went straight to take a shower, dried my hair, and put on pajamas since I would be here the rest of the day. I ordered room service and turned on the TV to watch the race, and immediately saw Carlos entering the paddock. He was walking slowly because of the surgery, and I just shook my head and settled back into bed.
Midway through the race, I was packing my bags since I would be catching a flight to Monaco early tomorrow morning when the door suddenly opened scaring me and Carlos walked into the room.
“Hey,” he said, closing the door.
“Hey.” I finished packing my suitcase and placed it on the floor.
“Leaving?”
“We have a flight to Monaco tomorrow morning, so…”
“Are you staying at my place or…”
“I’m staying at my mom’s.”
“I thought you were staying with me.”
“That was before this morning.”
“Y/n…”
“I’m not trying to control you or tell you what to do, but you were extremely irresponsible with your health today by going to the race, which could harm your recovery.”
“I know.”
“And yet you went.”
“But I’m here, I came back because I knew you were right and…” He stopped because he winced in pain.
“Lie down.” I took his hand and helped him onto the bed, lifting his shirt. “Did you changed this today?”
“Not yet.” I sighed and got the things I had bought earlier in the morning, starting to clean the wound. “Ouch.”
“Sorry,” I said, finishing cleaning and applying a new dressing. “Here are your medications, they might make you a bit drowsy, so you’ll probably fall asleep.”
“I’m really sorry,” he said again. “Charles didn’t explain the reason, but he told me this upsets you.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“Do you want to tell me why?” He opened his arms, and I lay down on his chest.
“It’s because Jules died doing what you and my brothers do.” He hugged me tighter. “And I remember vividly the pain I felt when they buried him, leaving only memories and grief.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way and that I contribute to what scares you.”
“I don’t mind your job; I like seeing you do what you love and achieving your dreams. But I can’t help feeling scared every time you, Charles, or Arthur get into those cars.” I sighed and started tracing circles with my fingers on his chest. “It’s just that I don’t know if I could handle it if something happened to any of you. It’s not about the surgery; I just want to prevent anything from happening to you guys over something as trivial as going to watch the race in person after having your appendix removed.”
“I’m sorry for not realizing that and for ignoring your advice to rest.”
“It’s okay, I should have been honest about what was scaring me.”
“Are we okay?” he asked.
“We are.” He smiled and kissed my forehead. “But from now on, if you do something like this again, you’ll have to work a lot harder for my forgiveness. I’m just being nice now because you’re recovering.”
“Okay, that’s fair enough for me.” We switched positions, and he lay on my chest. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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Bonus scene!
Carlossainz instagram stories
“Thank you all for the love messages you’ve been sending to me, it has certainly helped me a lot. I'm still recovering but with the help of all my team and my wonderful girlfriend I'm getting better every day." Tagged: Y/nleclerc
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pockettwinzz · 3 days
Text
7 Minutes In Heaven - S.JK
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౨ৎsynopsis౨ৎ : Seven minutes in heaven with your annoying enemy; how would it go...
౨ৎwarnings౨ৎ : MDNI, Smut, blowjob, oral[m!receiving], unprotected sex[naurr],
౨ৎauthor's Note౨ৎ : So this was supposed to be released after my Heeseung fic but dumbass mfing tumblr didn't save my draft so i'm gonna have to re-write some scenes :( will be uploading it asap!!!! dividers by @dollywons
౨ৎwc౨ৎ : 1.6k
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Jake and I had never really talked much since freshman year. Anytime we'd try to talk we'd end up arguing about something. Everyone in college knows about it by now.
Tonight, we're at a camping trip with some of our mutual friends. As the night progresses, they drag us into playing truth or dare. When it's my turn, the idiot who's supposed to be my friend dares me to do something insane. "Y/N, you have to spend seven minutes in heaven with Jake."
I groan, not wanting to do this at all. But I have to, or I'll look like a chicken. So, with a sigh, I agree to it. I close my eyes and feel Jake's warm breath on my neck as we're led into the room. I can't help but feel a little bit nervous.
I said to Jake, my voice shaking slightly. "So umm what are we supposed to do?I mean, we could just… talk, I guess?"
Jake scoffs. "I don't want to talk to you. But if you insist…" He pulls me closer, his body pressed against mine. His hands slide up my shirt, sending shivers down my spine. "We could do other things," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.
My heart skips a beat. I'm not sure if I should be angry or aroused by this. Jake's touch feels so good, so foreign. He reaches around, unhooking my bra with ease, before tossing it aside. His fingers trace circles around my nipple, making me gasp.
I want to hate this, but my body betrays me. It wants more.
I arch my back, pressing myself against his touch. "Jake…," I breathe out, my voice husky. He smirks, leaning in to capture my lips in a heated kiss. His tongue dances with mine, sending a jolt of desire through my entire body. His hand finds its way down my shorts, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric, teasing.
I moan into his kiss, feeling myself grow wetter by the second. I want him to touch me there, to make me feel good. I break away from the kiss, gasping for air, and reach down to unfasten his pants. My fingers brush against his hardness, and I'm taken aback by how big he is. I've never been with anyone this big before.
Jake helps me pull his pants down, revealing his boxer briefs. I reach for the waistband, but he stops me, pushing my hand aside. "Let me take care of that," he says, his voice husky. With practiced movements, he pulls down his underwear, freeing his erection.
He steps back, giving me a moment to take in his fully exposed body. I'm mesmerized by the sight of him, hard and ready for me. He's so confident, so sure of himself. It's almost intimidating. But at the same time, it's incredibly arousing.
I reach out, tentatively touching the tip of his cock. He lets out a shuddering breath, and I feel the heat emanating from his body. His eyes are locked on mine as I stroke him, slowly at first, but then faster, matching the rhythm of my own heartbeat.
He grabs my hand, guiding it, showing me how he likes it. I can feel the veins pulsing beneath his skin, the taut muscles quivering with each touch. His hips begin to move in time with my strokes.
"That's it, baby," he groans. "You're doing so good."
I lean forward, taking him into my mouth. His tip presses against the back of my throat, and I gag a little. He reaches down, wrapping his hand around my hair, guiding me. "Just take it slow, sweetheart. Let me feel you around me."
I obey, sucking gently at first and then harder as I get the hang of it. His hips buck against my face, and I can taste the precum on my tongue. It's salty and sweet, and I can't help but want more. I stroke him with my tongue, feeling the veins pulsing beneath his skin. He moans, the vibrations sending shivers down my spine.
His hand tangles in my hair, holding me in place as he thrusts deeper. "Fuck, that's it," he groans. "You're so good at that." His cock twitches in my mouth, and a warm, thick fluid fills my mouth. I swallow quickly, feeling it trickle down my throat.
He pulls me up, grabbing my ass in his hands, and pushes me back against the wall. His hips begin to move, his cock thrusting against my lips. I open wider, taking him deeper, feeling the head of his cock brush against my entrance. He growls, his hips stuttering, and then he's inside me.
I let out a moan as he fills me, feeling him stretch me, claim me. He begins to move, his hips slamming into mine in a furious rhythm. I can feel the strength in him, the power that he has over me. He grips my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin as he takes control of our encounter.
My head falls back against the wall, and I let out a gasp as he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside me. His thrusts grow deeper, harder, and I can feel myself beginning to lose control. I reach up, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him down for a bruising kiss.
He groans into the kiss, his hips stuttering against mine as he tries to maintain his rhythm. I can feel the strength in his arms, the way they hold me up, the way they keep me close. He's so big, so powerful, and yet he's gentle with me, almost tender.
His thrusts become more erratic, more urgent. I can feel the tension building in him, the way his breath comes in ragged gasps. I want to make him feel good, want him to let go, so I arch my back, pressing myself deeper against his hips. His cock hits my sweet spot, and he cries out, his body tense as he comes inside me.
He holds me close, his strength steadying me as I feel the aftershocks of his release. His hips slow, but he doesn't pull out. He leans in, kissing my neck, my jaw, my lips. His skin is warm against mine, and I can feel the softness of his hair against my cheek.
"You feel so good," he murmurs, his voice raspy with desire. "So tight, so hot." His hips begin to move again, the friction between us growing more intense with each thrust. He groans, the vibrations traveling up my spine and making my toes curl.
His fingers dance over my skin, tracing patterns that send shivers through my body. He finds my sensitive bundle of nerves, and his touch is electric. "God, I love how you respond to me," he whispers, his lips brushing against my ear.
I lean into his touch, my hips meeting his rhythm. The friction between us grows more intense, more demanding. I can feel myself growing wetter, hotter. His cock strokes my inner walls, finding that perfect spot that drives me wild.
He groans, his breath hot against my neck. "You're so fucking amazing," he whispers, his fingers digging into my hips. "I could feel you tighten around me, feel you get wetter." His hips thrust harder, faster, his cock hitting deep inside me with each thrust.
I was crying out his name as a shudder runs through me. His touch is so gentle, so tender, it's almost too much to bear. He finds my clit with his thumb, circling it expertly, driving me wild. I grip his shoulders, digging my nails into his skin as I feel the pressure building, the need growing more urgent.
"J-jake….. I'm close.." I manage to choke out, my body trembling under his touch. His thrusts grow faster, harder, each one pushing me closer to the edge. He leans down, capturing my mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue thrusting deep inside. I can taste myself on him, feel the heat of our bodies as we move together.
He pulls back, watching me intently as his fingers continue to work their magic on my sensitive skin. His touch is so gentle, so knowing, and it sends waves of pleasure coursing through me. "Come for me, baby," he whispers, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you come on my cock."
That was my last straw. I came with a scream, my body arching off the bed as my orgasm took me, waves of pleasure rolling through me. Jake's name was torn from my lips as I convulsed around him, my muscles gripping his cock in time with my spasms.
He followed me over the edge, his body tensing as he cried out, his hips bucking wildly. His hot cum spilled inside me, filling me up as he came, his grip on my hips unyielding. For a moment, we were both suspended in time, our bodies still joined as we caught our breath.
The room was hazy with the scent of our sweat and the lingering traces of our pleasure. Jake rolled off me, collapsing onto his back beside me, his chest heaving. I traced a finger along the line of his jaw, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. "You're amazing," I whispered, kissing his neck.
He laughed, the sound husky and satisfied. "You're not so bad yourself." He propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down at me. "Now think of an excuse baby. What are you gonna tell 'em we were doing cause it's been more than 7 minutes."
"We were just… talking. Getting to know each other a little better."
Jake chuckled, "Do you wanna talk some more?"
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౨ৎperm taglist౨ৎ : @alvojake @cha-eui @heeslut4life @dollywons @wondipity @wonlvkay
My taglist is open. I will not be adding minors or blogs that do not have their ages mentioned <3. If you wanna be added feel free to send me an ask :3
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avatar-anna · 2 days
Text
Anime Eyes
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just boyfriendrry and reader being disgustingly in love bc i love the new kacey musgraves album💕💕
Masterlist
"What are you looking at?"
"Who me? Nothing."
Your eyes fluttered back down to your book, but only for a moment, your gaze inexplicably transfixed on the man before you.
Harry wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. In fact, it was probably the most regular day you'd shared with him in a while. After lots of traveling, for both work and vacation, you and Harry were finally in the comfort of your own home. He was folding laundry while you enjoyed a lazy day in bed recovering from jet lag, humming to himself as he sorted his clothes into categories before putting them away.
"What?" he asked again, having caught you for the second time. The corner of his mouth tipped up, pleased that he'd caught you admiring him. "See something you like?"
Where do I start? you thought. It was no secret your boyfriend was attractive. Even in an old faded t-shirt, five o'clock shadow, and his hair unkempt as it dried from his shower, she was still the most handsome man you'd ever met. It was startling sometimes, his smile or dimples or green eyes making you do a double take, causing you to blush before he caught you ogling.
"No," you said, still holding onto the charade that you hadn't been admiring him. Harry raised his brows, not buying your cool act, which only made your cheeks burn, but you sighed in defeat nonetheless. "I just love you, that's all."
Harry's responding grin had your heart melting into a puddle at your feet. It was both satisfied and bashful at the same time, beautiful and adorable as his cheeks became dusted with pink. "Oh stop."
"No, really," you said, leaning forward as you set your book aside. "You're doing something as simple as pairing socks, and I just fell even more in love with you. Can you believe that?"
Looking down at his various piles of yours and his clothes, Harry shook his head before covering his face with his hands. When he removed them to look at you, his whole face was beet red.
"Now you're the one flustering me."
You shrugged, pushing onto your knees. Carefully, you moved the piles of clothes out of the way so you could be right in front of him to wrap your arms around his neck. This close to your boyfriend, you could see all the little things that made up the face you loved so much—the light dusting of freckles, the scar on his chin, the precise shade of green that made up his eye color, the perfect arch of his brows. Harry was a work of art, one you considered yourself lucky to be able to behold on a daily basis.
For a moment as you held his gaze, you could see it all. The present relationship you had with him hurtling into a bright future. One with tears of joy and sadness, of remarkable memories and feelings too great to comprehend. It was almost too daunting to think about, but you wanted it, you wanted it all with him.
"What are you thinking about?" you asked him, grazing your fingers over the tops of his cheekbones.
"How much I love that little twinkle in your eye when your mind wanders off somewhere," Harry replied.
"Thinking of you, baby," you murmured, before finally sliding your lips over his.
Harry's arms tightened around your waist as he hummed appreciatively, his hands roving all over your back as he brought you impossibly closer against his chest. You sighed at the familiar touch, never quite used to the feeling of butterflies or the electricity that zinged through your skin every time he touched you.
"In case it wasn't abundantly clear," Harry murmured, his lips smearing lazy kisses over your jaw and down your neck. "I love you."
Squeezing him tighter, you nudged your nose against his neck. "I love you too."
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pricefieldsuperiority · 18 hours
Text
Yearning Allegations - Pt.2
Part 1 can be found here
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader
Word count: 1.4k
Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn
Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time. Is there any chance she likes you too?
The first thing you do when you get back to your dorm is groan. Why the hell did you say that? Now she's gonna be worried about you, which is the last thing you'd want.
Annoyed with yourself, you kick off your shoes and throw your clothes into the corner before changing into an old oversized shirt you stole off Paige once when you slept over at hers. It's comforting, still smelling vaguely like her, and you curl up in your bed, plush bedcovers over your knees.
Earbuds in, you press play on Taylor Swift's newest album. Your taste in music was different from Paige's, preferring pop and rock, whereas she liked what you affectionately called "fuckboy music." Of course this was just a lighthearted inside joke, you also liked some of her music, like PartyNextDoor or The Weeknd.
You're halfway through the song 'Down Bad' when you hear a light knock at your door and a soft voice.
"Hey y/n? You good? Open up"
You open up the door to see Paige standing there with an unreadable expression, and then she just walks right in and drops onto your bed.
"Yeah, I'm all good" You say, hoping you sound reassuring. Can she tell you don't actually have a headache?
Paige doesn't say anything. She just seems to be studying you closely, and you nervously ramble on.
"You really didn't have to leave the party, sorry if I freaked you out or something"
You've said it all in a rush, and Paige just smiles a bit as she reaches out and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. You want to speak up and tease her to ease the tension until you look at her face.
Paige's expression is gentle, and you notice just how dilated her pupils are in the dim light of your room. Her irises are small, nothing but a vivid blue ring, and you smile at the sight. Her eyes are just so pretty, they've always reminded you of forget me nots, or a clear sky, and you're so busy pondering their exact shade match that you realize you forgot to speak.
"What?" Paige says, suddenly self-conscious.
You blink a few times.
"Nothing"
You turn away, grabbing your glass of water off the nightstand.
Paige is looking at you, head slightly cocked, brows knit quizzically. Your mouth feels dry despite the water, and you want her to stop looking at you like she's trying to figure you out.
"I swear I'm actually good, deadass. My head just really hurts. Probably chugged too many shots during that drinking game earlier. " You put down your cup and dramatically flop onto the bed, closing your eyes and then peeking one open to check if your explanation worked.
Paige finally relaxes and smirks at you,
"Pfft y/n you're such a light weight. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
You scoff and reply with a grumbled whatever I'm fine, pressing a hand to your head dramatically, and Paige props herself up against the wall, holding one arm out for you.
"Alright, alright, come here."
You smile at her, cuddling up to her side. Her perfume smells so good. It's a subtle vanilla. You settle on her chest as she holds you.
"Also- are you wearing my shirt?" Paige says, rather amused.
"Yeah? Why, do you want it back? I’ll give it to you later" You retort, with half a mind to take it off and playfully throw it at her. This is how it was between you two, at least when you weren't acting like an idiot.
"Nono it's fine, just thought it was... interesting"
Paige pulls you back in, hiding her grin with her hand.
You're fighting off sleep, but you still scoff in response, and she just strokes your hair gently as you drift off.
---
The next week, Paige is over at your dorm, playing Fortnite on call with KK and Ice as you play League of Legends.
"Ughhhhh!!"
Paige groans with frustration, putting down her controller as she loses another match. KK and Ice are bickering with each other over call, and you just smile at the familiar sounds.
You're busy fighting hard in League. Your team is technically losing, but you think you might be able to carry if you score a few more kills at the right time. You don't look up when Paige sits down next to you, headset and game abandoned, head resting over your shoulder to watch you play.
"Another loss, huh?" You say, grinning while you score another kill.
You don't need to turn around to see Paige's eyeroll.
"Yeah yeah, whatever. I just lost cause I was trolling too hard"
Paige is a bit of a sore loser (and dramatic) so you can't resist the urge to poke a little fun at her.
"That's what you get for being a Fortnite player, cringe as hell man”
Paige throws her hands up as she retorts back,
"Dude you're literally playing fuckin League of Legends right now, you can't talk"
You finally look away for a second to grin mischievously at her, one eyebrow cocked.
"Well, at least I'm good at League-"
Not more than 2 seconds pass before Paige sticks her whole hand in front of your screen during a team fight, causing your character to die. You end up losing the game, considering the enemy team was already way ahead.
"What the hell, Paige!"
You whine, and she just grins evily in response.
"HA, what were you saying about winning??-"
You don't allow her to finish that sentence because you shove her over, standing up from the chair and knocking her onto your bed.
"Hey!"
Paige shouts as you start tickling her sides, absolutely going in. You've got a knee on her leg to make sure she doesn't wiggle away from you.
"Yeah, so who's losing now-" You laugh, her cussing at you, trying to pull your hands away.
After a few minutes, Paige pushes you over, and now it's a full-blown battle. Your hands scramble to find her weak spots before she can find yours, and you note how her loose t shirt has risen up, a bit of her stomach out as she kneels over. You seize the opportunity and tickle just under the hem of her shirt, fingers hitting bare skin.
Paige's face blushes a deep pink as she feels your hands go up her shirt, and she grabs one of your wrists, pinning it to the bed.
"Paige!" You can't get your wrist free from underneath her, she's stupidly strong. You can't even move away because she's sitting on you now, using her free hand to tickle your neck and side mercilessly.
"I think you're the one losing!" Paige says triumphantly, enjoying the sight of you squealing.
You sneak your other hand unpinned hand into her waist, tickling her side, and she curses, grabbing that hand and pinning it too.
Breathing heavy, you're both flush against each other for a moment, her body leaning over yours, and for a second, you swear you see her eyes flicker down to your lips.
You stop moving entirely, admiring her from your position beneath her, trying to mentally engrave the way the light highlighted the honey streaks in her hair into your memory. Your eyes dart down once to her slightly parted lips before glancing up to her eyes, the expression in them unreadable.
"I- I won!" Paige gets off you in a hurry, moving away quickly to smooth her shirt down in your bedroom mirror.
"Yeah yeah whatever" You say back, hoping she didn't hear the shake in your voice. You press the back of your hands to your cheeks. They're warm.
Paige doesn't stay long after that, saying she needs to get some homework done, and you just sit alone in your bedroom after she's left, playing back the moments to yourself.
What the hell was that?
---
Authors Note: Thank you guys so much for the love on the first chapter <3. Paige and y/n gamer losers, this is true.
194 notes · View notes
luveline · 9 hours
Note
would you be in the mood to write something for peter parker x reader?? it’s been a while since i’ve read anything new for him and i’m missing my boy :( maybe something about things getting heated while making out with peter but he knows reader isn’t ready to go any farther so he has to stop them, and then maybe reader feels guilty for not being ready bc they feel like they’re stringing him along? a good mix of (semi)smut & fluff & angst haha. thank u angel i love u <3
ty for requesting, love u <3 fem!reader, 1k
cw suggestive content
“Is that okay?” he whispers. 
You’re nearly too busy trying to kiss him to whisper back. “Yeah, Peter, just–” Fully too busy. 
Peter enjoys being on top of you for two reasons; the first, the most imperative in the moment, is because it flicks a switch in your mind that has you all flustered and breathless under his touch, your chest heaving something sorry and your hands a frenetic back-and-forth between roaming and limp on his back; and the second, his guilty pleasure, is that he’s in an optimal position to slide his knee between your thighs and listen for your breathless sigh. 
He says your name between kisses to catch your attention, finds he can’t quite get it as your mouth closes up on his and your spit wets his lips. Your hand wanders under his shirt. 
Peter has been worse than shirtless around you, a consequence of his strange after-classes hobby, but he’s not so sure you’re ready to peel him out of it. Your fingers ride up his spine. 
He fishes your hand from behind him to hold it above your head. 
“Hey,” he says, pulling back, your eyes lit and aligned with one another, the brightest light in the room. It feels wrong to speak into the dark like this, disrupting your whispers and your quick breathing. “You don’t wanna do that.” 
“I do,” you say. He’s no genius, but he sees the wobble of your lashes for what it is, sudden regret. 
“It’s okay, bub. We got too heavy too fast,” he laughs. 
You bite the inside of your lip as he sits up. It’s his fault, he shouldn’t have kissed you like that, definitely shouldn’t have let his leg slide up against you, what was he thinking? He’s kissed you so hard your lips are swollen. 
You use the flats of your palms to clamber up against the headboard. Your heart is a thudding he can’t ignore, triply loud, and his own pulse is rocketing too. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No, that’s okay,” —he reaches for the hem of your sweatpants to tug them back over your hip and stomach— “I was bearing down on you, I shouldn’t have– I–” Peter Parker levels of stuttering occur, to which he can’t subject himself, hiding his face in his hands. 
There’s a small silence. Peter attempts to calm down. Your heart rate slowly drops. 
“I really am sorry, Pete.” 
His neck cricks as he lifts his head. “What?” He lets his legs fall to the side of the bed and shuffles up to the top to see you clearly, squishing the back of your thigh where your legs are up to his hip. “Come on, what do you have to be sorry for?” 
“I’m leading you on and stuff. Not cool.” 
“What? What are you talking about? I started it.” 
“I was giving it just as good as I was getting it,” you say with a regretful smile. “You’re just such a great kisser–”
“Don’t try and distract me, it’s working,” he teases. More seriously, he puts his hand on your knee, thumb pressing to the soft crease underneath it. 
“I shouldn’t kiss you like that if I’m not ready for it.” 
“Why not? You can kiss me whatever way you like, it doesn’t have to lead to anything.” 
“I’m winding you up. Boys don’t like that.” 
“I love it,” he says, dropping his chin to his hand to speak to you from just below your eye line. “I love everything you do, I love kissing you, it doesn’t mean you have to be ready for something else.” 
You don’t accept his reassurances as quickly as he’d like, leaning back, the rising valley of your chest and tummy two pretty not to look at even as something serious transpires. He adores you, your every hill and curve and rigid line, all of it, and he’d love to fuck you but there’s no rush. What do you need to rush for? Peter’s sure it’ll be just as much fun a few months down the line as it would’ve been tonight, but it’ll be perfect then, because you’ll be ready then. 
“Who cares what boys like anyways?” he mumbles, kissing your kneecap appreciatively. 
“I just don’t wanna mess it up, Pete. I really like you.” 
“You can’t mess it up, it’s not like that, we’re not like that. You mean a whole lot more to me than that,” he says, giving your thigh a squeeze. You meet his eyes with less shyness now, the beginnings of a smile like twitches at the corners of your mouth. “I like you more than you like me, anyways. You can string me along. String me up, if you want.” 
“String you up where?” you ask with a laugh. 
“From that statue on ESU?” 
“What? How would I do that?” 
“Get Spider-Man to help you.” 
You pull the leg he isn’t leaning on up toward your stomach, knee rubbing along the inside of your opposite thigh, the last trace of regret. “You’re sure you don’t care?” 
“Don’t care, don’t mind, just want you to be happy.” He kisses your knee. “I thought you’d know that by now.” 
You brace your face in both hands, letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know what I know when you do that thing to me. How about you keep your legs away from my legs for a little while?” 
Peter smiles like an idiot, hiding his eyes in your knee and his mouth behind your calf. He doesn’t mind being honest, but you’re making him nervous flirting like that and he isn’t allowed to kiss you again tonight. “I– I can do that. No leg stuff.” He leans away from you suddenly. “God, no leg stuff. You’re beautiful, I wish you didn’t worry about me.” 
“I’ll try not to, Pete.”  
335 notes · View notes
fourmoony · 1 day
Note
Just thinking about Sirius trusting reader enough to do his hair :,) or maybe she experiments with putting his hair in curlers/curling it. I could even imagine Sirius owning a Dyson airwrap to have the best blowouts 😭💀
Sirius would 100000% own the dyson air wrap!!! Thanks for requesting, babe!
cw: none
750 words, modern au
You're not sure where Sirius learned his money managing skills from (or if he even has any), but the pleased smile and child-like excitement over his brand new hair dryer is something you refuse to admonish. Though, you're sure even if you tried, you'd fail.
Your boyfriend bounces happily on the balls of his feet, hair sopping wet and plastered to his face. Water droplets seep into his grey shirt but Sirius doesn't seem to care. Not when he's too busy making bedroom eyes at the unopened box on the bathroom counter. He'd been so happy when John Lewis finally had the Dyson Air Wrap back in stock, had dragged you out of bed this morning to drop an easy five hundred quid on it. Your head had spun with the realisation of just how rich your boyfriend actually is.
He's not flashy with his money. Irresponsible, yes. But being there to witness a classic Sirius-Black-Irresponsible-Purchase had really solidified the knowledge that your boyfriend is filthy rich.
"Okay, I'll grab a stool and you set it up." He says, turning to make for the stool that sits under your dressing table.
"Wait, you want me to do it?" You yell after him.
Sirius makes noise everywhere he goes. He's loud and abrasive, jagged around the edges. He loves so loud that it only makes sense his entire personality is the same. There's thumps and grumbles as he bumps into things all the way along the hall, the tell tale sounds of the stool scraping along your freshly painted hallway. "Well who else would do it?" Sirius rounds the corner, flashes his teeth in a wide grin that he knows will make you fold.
"What makes you think I'm qualified?"
Sirius shrugs, "The fact that I'm one hundred percent not. You're good at everything, sweetness."
He knows flattery works like a charm, especially when he pairs it with his best flirty eyes. You sigh, reaching for the box and unravelling all of the corresponding pieces. It's high tech, incredibly high tech. Sirius fidgets on the stool as you watch a video on your phone, lips curled between your teeth in concentration.
It takes a while to get the hang of, and you're sure you'll get better in time. Sirius softens and relaxes as much as he ever allows himself to as your fingers work through his hair, as you brush and comb and dry it. He hums and sighs and even closes his eyes. It's peaceful and intimate and it allows you to come to a startling realisation that Sirius has never asked you to do his hair for him before.
He's not prissy about his hair. He'll let anyone touch it. He actually begs for people to play with his hair. But he's never outright asked you to fix it up for him, prefers to get it sitting perfect by himself because he believes it to be his best asset. You'd have to disagree with him on that. His eyes never fail to amaze you, nor his smile.
"All done." Your voice seems to pull him out of a daydream.
His eyes open and he smiles wide, turning in the stool in an instant until he can take your hands in his. "Bad news, sweetheart, you're going to have to do this every day." He informs you, standing until his hands can reach your hips.
He pulls you into him, a little roughly, but catches you with his own body, lips ducking down to press to your forehead. You resist the urge to tell him you'd be happy to do his hair every day, if only to feel the intimacy and pride of being the one person he trusts to style his hair.
"Such a travesty." You feign indifference, lips pressed to his collar bone where it peeks out of his shirt.
Sirius shivers at the contact. "Easy, sweetness. I know my hair is super hot and stuff, but we have dinner reservations with James and Remus. They'll get pissy if we cancel to have sex."
"Again." He adds after a second.
You scoff, pushing your boyfriend away whilst he barks with laughter. Heat creeps up your neck as you exit the bathroom, ignoring Sirius' shouts down the hallway that he could make an exception for a quickie.
"Thanks, baby!" He calls a moment later.
You can't fight the smile that toys at your lips as you pick out an outfit for dinner.
162 notes · View notes
delulustateofmind · 2 days
Text
Marriage-Life (One-shot)
A/n: Thank you all for all the love on the Between Worlds series! I promise an update next week. This is just something I thought about while on my walk with my dog :) SUPER FLUFFY!
**Also, it is unedited so fair warning, like a rough draft!**
Word Count: 1.8K
Summary: Collections of domestic life with Azriel, married/mated for fifty years. 
Warnings: Fluff & crack at times, drinking, some intimate moments. Pet names (Sweetness, My Love, Baby)
Azriel the spymaster was your mate, the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Balancing life with a spymaster was no easy feat. Azriel’s frequent absence on risky missions tested the boundaries of your marriage at times. Yet, amidst the challenges, you found solace in the ways he made up for his prolonged departures.
Like sleepless nights in bed after a long mission…
As you settled in settled into bed, with Azriel lying on your chest, his breathing growing heavy as his eyes were closing. A question tugged at your lips. “Would you…’ you began, hesitating for a moment. ‘Yes, I would love you if you were a worm,’ Azriel hummed, his warm breath grazing your skin.
“Love me if I was a snail” You finished, feeling Azriel’s smirk form against your chest. He gave a soft nip on your breast. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he opened his eyes to look up at you. The hazel eyes looked up at you with amusement you could see his smirk turn smug. 
“Oh sweetness, that changes things” he drawled as he sat up a little, pushing himself up to see your face. You bit your lip trying not to giggle as he continued. 
“I mean, are you a normal snail? Like could I tell you apart from all of the other little snails?” Azriel began, his deep voice filled with a teasing tone. His hand roaming your bonds, fingers caressing your curves. 
You stifle a laugh as his fingers find ticklish spots, “I would be a cute snail, one that you could distinguish from the others”
“A very cute snail…but the fact remains. You would still be a snail” Azriel hummed as he ran his fingers across your curves again. His gaze goes down to your body and back to your lips and then your eyes with a playful grin. A grin that only you ever saw. “I would feel so guilty if I stepped on you by mistake. Can’t have that, can we?” 
Giving him a playful pout, you look at him innocently. “Are you saying…that you wouldn’t love me if I was a snail?” you whisper to him in a soft gaze, as you notice his movements. Azriel grinned again, pushing himself onto his elbows against you as he moved closer to you. His wings continued to drape across the both of you. 
“What I’m saying is I would always have to worry about stepping on you if you were a snail. Which would make being married to you quite the headache.” His hand once rested on the curve of your waist, moved its way to your collarbone then your jawline, and finally to your chin. Tilting your head as he brings himself closer to whisper on your lips. “How about you stay fae my love, maybe in another universe we could be snails together. But this one, I would love to be fae with you.” A gentle kiss was planted on your lips, which led to you both having a very sleepless night. 
****
Azriel never really had much of a sweet tooth, in fact, he typically stayed away from sweets until he met you. When you both got married, you would try out a new cafe once a month, sometimes going to the same one if their seasonal menu changed. 
“Let’s get ice cream today, it’s starting to get so warm out.” You whined as you slipped on a sundress. Azriel in the middle of brushing his teeth as he shrugged and gave the confirming nod. 
One of the best things about Azriel was that he always tried to match your outfits. If you wore a blue ribbon in your hair, he would wear a blue button-up shirt. If you wore a floral sundress, he would find a shirt that matched one of the colors. Today wearing a blue floral sundress, he opted for a light blue button-down and khaki slacks. One of which, he never owned any colorful clothing or anything other than his leathers and a few formal outfits until you two met.
Once you were both ready, Azriel took you on a flight down to the Palace of Hoof and Leaf. A district is known for its food. Once landed, you both walked hand in hand. Shadows trailing the both of you as you walked. Azriel’s huge hand compared to yours as he guided you to a cafe. 
“Feyre mentioned this place the other day” he began as he guided you through the busy streets. His wings were tightly tucked in. “I guess they make the ice cream look cute, like little bears and pigs” he gave you a warm smile as you trailed next to him, giving him a confirming squeeze with your hand. 
The streets were packed today, the market was selling spices, the smell of delicious food filled the air, and merchants trying to gather attention as people walked past. It wasn't until after a few blocks away, that you noticed a cute pastel pink building that had “Ice Cream” written in a beautiful cursive font on the window. You moved your hand from his, moving it towards his bicep as you both walked to the front doors. When you grasped his muscle, he flexed. The pastel-pink building exuded a quaint charm, its exterior adorned with delicate floral motifs that seemed to dance in the sunlight. Inside, the decor was equally inviting, with plush cushions and paintings on flowers on the walls. Along with cute stuffed animals on shelves around the parlor. A beautiful fae girl led you both to a table and placed a menu in front of you both. Azreil looked at you. “Order anything you want. I will just share with you”
The menu was filled with a tempting array of ice cream parfaits, each more enticing than the last. Ranging from little animal-themed ones to flower ones  You ended up ordering the panda, and right when you ordered you noticed there was a drink menu that showed an adorable foam cat latte. You order it as well obviously. Azriel smirks as he looks at you with a smile. People in the ice cream parlor glanced over. A smile from the threatening looks of the spymaster was quite rare. 
You both talked about what other errands you both needed to run, a market trip was due. Luckily Azriel won’t have a mission for a while but will be training with the Valkyrie and having to go to Hewn City soon. As you both talked, you very impatiently waited for the dessert, Azriel held your hand across the table. He was rubbing his finger across the top of your hand. 
“I appreciate you” He whispered so softly that you almost didn’t catch it. You give him a warm smile “I appreciate you too and everything you do.”
After what seemed like forever! 
The ice cream and latte finally arrived, you looked at the ice cream with a pout and looked at him. 
“I don’t think I can eat it, it’s too cute” you pout as you look down at the panda ice cream staring up at you. Azriel had already taken the latte and was about to sip it. As he raised a brow.
“Shall I eat it for you” he teased, flashing a playful grin as he took a sip of the cute cat latte. Something about this intimidating creature sipping a cute cat latte caused your heart to flutter. A blush made its way across your face, even after fifty years of marriage, he still makes you have butterflies in your tummy. You reluctantly used your tiny spoon that was given to you, to poke the face of the little panda ice cream ball on top. Tasting the ice cream, it was a cookies and cream flavor. So cute and so delicious. Azriel teased you by claiming you’re murdering him. You would flash him a playful glare which would cause him to laugh. It was moments like these, that you enjoyed being married to him. 
*** 
Drunken nights, meant drunken mates. 
Azriel arrived at Rita’s to find his mate giggling drunk next to Feyre who was being led away by Rhysand. Azriel’s mate however was still sipping on her drink as he walked over. 
“Sorry, I have a mate,” you slurred, raising a hand to Azriel’s face as he approached.
“Oh, do you? Is he handsome?” He teased in a low voice, taking a seat next to you. His wing brushing against your shoulder. 
“The most handsome man in the whole world, let me tell you if he caught you right now, you would be catching his hands” You drawled with a drunken grin as you sipped the rest of your cocktail. 
Azriel covered his mouth covering a laugh, “Is that so? So he’s like super powerful.” He teased, his tone holding amusement. One of his shadows trailing around your arm. 
You notice it and giggle, “Yeah, my mate has these little shadow things too” You point at the shadow and show it to him. He laughs a bit harder and leans closer to you. You almost immediately recognize him. 
“Hello! My mate!” You giggle as you lean your head on his shoulder. His arm slipped around your waist. “When did you get here, there was such a strange man here” you giggle as he holds you close, placing his chin on top of your head. 
“Just now, how about we head home? Hm?” He hums as he plays with a strand of your hair, leaning back a little to slide a hand under your chin to tilt your face to his to see your drunken smile with a red flush on your cheeks. 
“Can we walk a little?” You smile up at him as you slur a little.
“Can you even walk?” He teases in a low tone, “If you can then sure” 
He pays the tab and walks with you out. A hand firmly on your waist to stop you from stumbling when you both walk the streets of Velaris. If anyone even looks at you stumble they’re met with the glare of the spymaster. You notice a pigeon leaving his arms and make your toward it. 
Tears stream down your face. 
Oh fuc- Azriel almost thought you were about to throw up but here you are giving the pigeons coins while crying. 
“Baby please, he’s homeless” You give Azriel a longing look as big alligator tears stream down your face. 
“The pigeon?” Azreil covers his mouth from laughing, there’s no way his mate is crying about a bird on the street. This is one of her more normal moments. 
“Yes, and he’s so poor. I mean he had no pockets!” you slurred as your voice cracked feeling so bad for the poor pigeon.
“I’m sure he’s fine love, please leave the pigeon alone,” he says quietly as he pulls you up. Perhaps, winnowing home would be for the best. 
331 notes · View notes
mariclerc · 1 day
Text
Fighter (pt.2) | cl16
Summary: where you have a serious accident on the track and Charles's memories of it aren't the most pleasant ones. Warning: an injured and somewhat frustrated reader, caring and gentle Charles and a lot of fluff this time.
a/n: I hope you like this part, this is a short one! please let me know if you want a third one!!
Part 1
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Sunlight streams through the window, illuminating a cozy bedroom. Clothes are scattered across a chair, and a half-eaten bowl of cereal sits on the bedside table. You walk slowly out of the bathroom, your movements stiff and a grimace on your face. You're wearing a simple white t-shirt and some sweatpants, but the center of attention it's a bright pink neck brace. It's been exactly almost two weeks since your big accident on the track and you find it very difficult to do normal things like change your clothes or even go to the bathroom.
You try to reach for your back as a wave of dizziness washes over you, making you stumbling slightly, but a strong hand steadies you... Charles appears behind you, concern etched on his face while holding your slippers in his hand.
“Hey, careful there princess. Let's take it slow, okay?” he says in a soft voice while you lean into his touch, a small sigh escaping from your lips.
You mumble slightly. “I hate feeling so useless.”
Charles helps you into the bed and sits beside you, his brow furrowed. “Don't be silly chérie, you're recovering from a nasty crash... It's okay to need help for a while, you know?”
You cry a little as you try to pull the t-shirt over your head. “Ugh, even this is impossible. Stupid neck brace.”
Charles reaches out, his touch gentle as he unfastens the back of the t-shirt. He slowly pulls it down your arms, his movements careful not to aggravate your injuries. “Let me do it, you need to rest your arms babe.”
You feel a warmth spread through your chest despite the frustration. It's a different kind of warmth than the one that ignites during a perfectly executed pit stop or a thrilling overtake... It's the warmth of care, of having someone there to support you when you're at your most vulnerable state.
A fresh t-shirt materializes in Charles' hands, and he helps you slide your arms in. He leans close, his voice a soft murmur.
“How about I get you some painkillers and water? Oh, maybe a light lunch too!”
You look up at him, at warm and grateful smile tugging in the corners of your lips. “You really are the best pit crew a girl could ask for... Even if you are from the rival team.”
Charles grins, his eyes twinkling. “You know I'm always happy to help you, right? Now, stay put. I'll be back in a flash darling.”
He leans down and kisses your forehead, the touch sending shivers down your spine, he takes the half-eaten bowl of cereal in his hands and leaves the room. Even with a messed-up neck and a bruised ego, you know that you're so lucky to have him by your side.
You settle back against the pillows, a newfound sense of peace washing over your body.
***
Charles disappears into the kitchen, and you take a moment to try and stretch your stiff muscles, something that is somewhat impossible. The silence is broken by a muffled crash from the kitchen... Your eyes widen a fraction.
“Of course, there's always a challenge with him.” you muttered to yourself.
Internally you have a debate whether calling out to him, but the thought of him fussing over you just because you only want a glass of water is too much. You try to push yourself up from the bed, wincing at the sharp tug in your lower back.
“Stubborn neck brace, stubborn muscles... Maybe I can manage just this once.” you say while clenching your teeth.
Just as you manages to get one leg over the edge of the bed, a flustered Charles bursts back in, holding a tray with a glass of water and a bowl of warm and comforting soup. “Okay, crisis averted... I almost knocked over the entire spice rack trying to get the ibuprofen out of the top shelf, but nothing to worry about.”
He sees you halfway out of the bed and rushes over to your side.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing amour? I told you to stay put.” He says alarmed.
You winces once again, frustrated tears welling up in your eyes. “I just wanted a glass of water! I hate feeling so helpless all the single time, I can't even get myself water!”
Charles softens immediately, pulling you back onto the bed and gently tucking you in. “Hey, hey, It's okay! I understand... Here, let me help you sit up baby.” he says with a soothing voice.
He props you against the pillows with a comforting hand on your shoulder. Then, a mischievous glint appears in his eyes.
“Besides, a champion driver like you deserves a pit crew that can handle a little pressure. How about a race to see who can finish their lunch first?”
You let out a watery laugh, the tension easing from your shoulders. “You're on. But don't underestimate the recovery power of a champion!”
Charles grins, placing the tray softly on your lap. “Never underestimate the pit crew either, sweetheart.”
You take a cautious sip of the water, the coolness soothing your parched throat. You winces again, a flicker of pain shooting through your neck, Charles notices that instantly.
“Easy there amour. Does it still hurt? Maybe we should grab another ice pack, that helped last night with the pain.” he asked but you shook your head, forcing a little smile.
“No, I'm okay charlie. It's just a twinge, besides, I don't want to slow down in our race, champion recovery, remember?”
You scoop a bite of soup with your spoon, the small movement it's such a challenge with the stiff muscles. Charles watches you, his gaze filled with concern and something deeper.
“You know that winning isn't everything here, right? How about we take this slow? You focus on getting better while I handle everything else. Deal?”
You hesitate, the competitive fire in your eyes dimming slightly. The thought of being completely dependent on Charles sometimes feels suffocating, even though you know he means well. He cares a lot about you and doing this kind of thing for you is not a bother to him at all.
“Maybe a compromise? You handle the tricky stuff, but for things like reaching for the water, I can try. It'll help me get my strength back faster, right?”
Charles considers your proposal, his eyes searching yours. He sees the determination sparkling beneath the vulnerability. “Alright, feisty one, but you promise to be careful? Don't try to be the heroine, okay?” he let out a soft sigh. “If you feel in trouble or find it difficult, don't be afraid to tell me, okay?” he says softly and you nod partially, since you can't do it so effusively.
You beams, a genuine smile that reaches your eyes. “It's a deal! Now, about that soup... What if we make it a relay race? You feed me a spoonful of soup and then I try to grab the water myself, It's a champion teamwork!” you say and giggled softly.
Charles lets out a laugh, the tension leaving his shoulders. He scoops a spoonful of soup, his eyes twinkling.
“Alright sweetheart, you're on! But remember, even teamwork has a winning team. And today that's us.”
He carefully brings the spoon to your lips, and you lean in. As you savors the warm soup, a feeling of warmth blooms in your chest that has nothing to do with the broth... It's the warmth of love, of shared determination, and the knowledge that they'll face this recovery, just like they face every challenge, together.
***
You take a spoonful of the soup, Charles' hand steady beside the spoon, the warmth spreads through your body, both from the food and from the way he's taking care of you. You finish the spoonful with a satisfied sigh, Charles look at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
“Alright bébé, your turn for the water challenge... Remember, if you feel like you can't do it, you can tell me to help you, slow and steady wins the race.”
He places the glass on the nightstand within reach, just out of easy reach for you with the neck brace. You take a deep breath, summoning your inner champion.
“Okay... Here goes nothing.” you say focused.
You gingerly reaches out with your right hand, the movement sending a jolt of pain through your back. You grit your teeth, determined not to give up. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, your fingers finally brush the cool glass.
A triumphant smile spreads across your face... Just as you're about to grab it, a sharp pain shoots through your neck, making your hand flinch. The glass wobbles precariously on the nightstand.
You gasped and Charles reacts instantly, reaching out to catch the glass before it spills. Relief washes over him as he sets it back down safely.
“It's okay baby, I told to be careful. I think that was too much too soon.” he say worried.
You winces again, a wave of frustration washing over you. Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision.
“I just... I don't like to feel useless, I can't even do a simple thing... When I will be back to normal Charles?” you asked in a whisper.
Charles sits beside you on the bed, pulling your body into a gentle hug. He rests his chin on top of your head, his voice soft and reassuring. ”It's okay not to be okay baby, healing takes some time! Don't push yourself too hard, just focus on getting better sweetcheeks, that's the most important race right now.”
He picks up the glass of water and brings it to your lips again. This time, there's a tenderness in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat.
“So how about we call a truce on the race? You focus on getting some rest, and I'll handle the hard pit stop duties, you like bringing you food, water and helping you with your clothes... Deal?”
You lean into his touch, a wave of peace washing over you. The frustration melts away, replaced by a quiet gratitude. “Deal... Thank you so much Charles, you're the best pit crew and boyfriend a girl could ask for, even if you sometimes underestimates her recovery power.” you say softly and shyly.
Charles chuckles, a warm sound that fills the room. ”Never underestimate a champion's determination, even a recovering one. Now, drink up princess. You need your strength for tomorrow's physiotherapy battle.”
You take a slow sip of the water, savoring the cool refreshment... Maybe this forced break from racing isn't so bad after all, the accident may have sidelined you from the track, but in this moment, surrounded by love and laughter, you know your true victory lies in the unwavering support you have by your side. The road to recovery may be long, but with Charles by your side, it's a journey you'll face together, one spoonful, one pit crew story, at a time.
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morgy-doo · 3 days
Text
school bus graveyard realtionship headcannons
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^ such cuties
Ashlyn Banner~
insanely protective
when you are in the phantom dimension this girl is mostly focused on making sure you don't get hurt/die
keeps you away from Aiden in that dimension so you don't end up getting roped into something stupid
Altho she isn't the most affectionate person, she will grab your hand and squeeze it tightly when she is nervous
she begrudgingly...after ALOT of begging, allowed you to play with her hair, when it is undone it is super wavy from being in those plaits all day
if you every get seriously hurt/die in the demon dimension, she will act calm and collected at first, but then totally lose it
she wont cry until she is alone of course
refuses to leave you alone until she knows you are better
after that she doesn't let you leave her sight
she just wants to keep you safe and close to her
Aiden Clark~
your more of a mother/father than a girlfriend/boyfriend-
CONSTANTLY bouncing off the walls
literally-
at one point in your relationship he would tell you he had a cute date planned....you had no idea that it was skydiving
he loved it
you not so much
in the phantom dimension he is using you to back him up in arguments
and he definatley tries to show off for you at one point
when they get locked in the mental assylum, he paints his face as you instead of the clown because why not
he found it endearing, you found it absolutely terrifiying
if you die then he will go silent, not as energetic or bouncy until he knows you are okay again, he constantly brings you things to entertain you with while in the hospital
he just wants you to never get bored of him
Ben Clark~
the most sweetest boyfriend ever
he will buy you flowers out of nowhere just to see you smile
sometimes he feels bad that he cannot say how much he loves you verbally
constantly has hand cramps from writing huge paragraphs about his love for you
the type of boyfriend to just pick you up and hug you when you are mad
you help him calm down when his temper starts to flare up
he really enjoys doing soothing activities with you such as pottery, painting, and baking
he is AMAZING at baking
he loves making you food
in the phantom dimension he likes to have you on his back
to reassure him that you are still there and safe, and also as a way to have quick access to you when you are in danger
if you die in the phantom dimension he will have this deeply disturbed look on his face
he honestly looked after you better than the doctor did
he brought you home cooked meals, your clothes, some things to cheer you up
he wants you to feel loved and to know that he will always be there for you even though you cannot hear him say it
Taylor Hernandez~
such a sweetie
she is so good at reading your feelings and can tell when you are upset/ when something is bothering you
she has pictures of you two together all over her wall so she always has something of you with her
she loves matching outfits with you
she 100% owns a shirt that says "i love my boyfriend/girlfriend" and has no shame in wearing it
she has this ritual where she kisses each picture of you before bed each night and saying "i love you y/n" over an over until she has kissed each picture
Tyler was just stood in the doorway of the room terrified-
in the phantom dimension you both make a vow to protect each other
and she will protect you with her LIFE is she has too
if you die in the phantom dimension she would never forgive herself
she would think its her fault as she didn't stick to her side of the vow
she let you get hurt
will sob infront of everyone
honestly needs more comfort then you do
when you are on the road to recovery tells you all these silly stories about her and Tyler to see you smile
she wants you to never leave her
Tyler Hernandez~
this one is a mixed bag
lets just say you will be very aware when he has entered the room
you slowly help him start to enjoy baseball again
he invites you to practice to show you off to his team
you are now lumped into his protection pile
congratulations, you are now one of his top priorities
he wont say it very often, but he adores you
and he misses you very much when you aren't around
he plays guitar for you when he is feeling especially loving, he teaches you the songs his dad taught him
when you are in the phantom dimension he gets very angry very easily
he is just so overwhelmed and worried about keeping you AND Taylor safe.
he is terrified he would of failed in his job of protecting you
if you die in the other dimension he would be angry at everyone but mostly at himself
he would close off, he wouldn't speak to anyone and he ends up flunking some of his classes to see you at the hospital
he is very aggressive to everyone else but when you are getting better at the hospital he is all gentle smiles and sweet tones
he owes it to you for letting you down
he wants to be able to feel that he can provide and protect you
Logan Fields~
he thinks he doesn't deserve you
why would you pick someone small and pathetic when you can have the full package like Tyler
despite his self doubts he treats you as best as he can
he is the most cliche person ever
has definately watched the sun set with you
study dates are a must
you both defo have this little potted flower that you have "raised" together
he tells you ALL about flowers as he has alot of knowledge about them
when you are in the phantom dimension he always has this dreaded feeling sitting in his stomach
as if he knows something is gonna happen to you and he wont be able to stop it
the feeling would eat him up inside
if you die in the phantom dimension, he would be determined to be the reason you got better, that it wouldn't happen again
he wants you to view him as worthy of your love, and he would do almost anything to earn that
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herofics · 19 hours
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Hellooo Fellow Human! Could you possible do something where the JJK men lovers (females) do the trend where the lovers walk in front of the men n@k3d while they are busy doing something 😌😊 you can choose how many but I would really really want Toji and Nanami ❤️
A/N: This is a pretty funny request, and I enjoyed writing this. I don’t write NSFW, so I just wrote this pretty suggestively but not really smutty. Though now I feel like writing some smut, oh boy
~Gojo Satoru~
•Gojo doesn’t pass up any chances to see you naked, but you just walking up to him, totally nude, while he tries to write a mission report, is definitely new
•Not that he’s complaining though
•He decides to mess with you and act like you’re not even naked, like there’s nothing odd about the situation at all
•Gojo was really proud of his idea, but he couldn’t keep it up long at all
•He was sitting by his desk and at first you were just leaning on the edge of it, just talking to Gojo about your day
•He was having a really hard time keeping his eyes on his report, because you were right there, naked and quite obviously waiting for something
•When you finally sighed, and said something like “Well, I’m gonna go grab a soda” and ran your fingers up his arm as you passed him, he had enough
•Gojo got up so quickly you barely even saw him move, and his arms were wrapped around you
•”You lasted longer than I thought you would” you smirked with a laugh
•”Please?” Gojo said impatiently, his hand wandering dangerously close to your breasts and other areas…
•”Hmmmm” you hummed, just to tease him and prolong his torture
•”Oh come on doll, I know you don’t wanna wait” Gojo whispered in your ear
•You could feel something hard pressing against your butt and lower back and you couldn’t help but smile
•”So needy” you purred
•Gojo groaned breathlessly, kissing your neck
•”Go for it” you sighed dreamily
•His hands found their way to the (in)appropriate places and you could feel your breath hitch in your throat as you bit your lip
~Nanami Kento~
•Nanami was cooking while you were taking a shower, so when you appeared from behind the corner, wrapped in your towel, he didn’t think anything of it
•But when you dropped the towel, revealing your naked body, he could feel his heart flutter, but he kept a calm and cool expression
•You were leaning on the doorway of the kitchen with the towel at your feet and a smirk on your face
•Nanami decided to just not react, or to at least to try not to
•He walked up to you from the stove and picked up the towel, saying: “You dropped this”
•Nanami is very good at keeping calm, but in his head he’s getting pretty turned on, and he feels like he’s about to pull you close and kiss you any second now
•But he walked back to the stove, while you just stood there with your mouth agape, holding the towel
•You decided to up the ante and hugged him from behind, pressing your body against his
•Nanami just exhaled very deeply, he could feel your breast pressing against his back and your hands opening the lower buttons of his shirt
•You slipped your hands under his shirt, feeling his firm abs under your fingers
•You could hear the little click sounds as Nanami turned the stove off, before he turned around with a hungry look in his eyes
•You pressed yourself against him again, and he placed his hands on your cheeks, pressing a kiss on your lips, as his hands started wandering down your body
•Nanami picked you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he held you up by your ass
•”Bedroom?” you asked
•”Bedroom” he smiled before kissing you again
~Fushiguro Toji~
•Toji would have one of two reactions to you walking up to him naked, and those are: either to completely ignore you and tell you to move because you’re in front of the TV or look at you with his mouth agape for like 5 seconds, before he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom
•Toji is very straight forward, but he’s also kinda fickle sometimes, so you never really know which option you’re gonna get if you were to do something like this
•If it happens to be the “move, you’re in front of the TV” you would be pretty frustrated, because you didn’t think he would react like that, he’s so handsy all the time you thought surely this would be impossibly for him to resist
•To be fair, the only thing he noticed was that you were in front of the TV and not the fact that you were naked
•When he does realize what just happened, he scrambles up from the couch and basically dashes after you and picks you up in his arms
•He is all over you, his hands exploring your body like it’s the first time he’s touching you, his lips on your neck whispering sweet nothings and dirty things in your ear between breaths and kisses
•He wants you so bad, and you want him
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ktaerssoi · 2 days
Text
same team, different goal
(pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3)
summary: the three weeks leading up to the draft, or the three times you realize caitlin isnt all that bad.
(2k)
week one
march was coming to an end, and Iowa had made it to the elite eight. tomorrow you would play against LSU, and you were a little nervous. your nerves didn't ease up when you were practicing the night before on an empty court.
it was almost ten, but you hadn't eaten or even thought about anything but the game tomorrow until you heard someone enter the gym, and then you weren't alone.
looking up from the ground, you shot the basketball towards the net, your arm stretching out and your feet coming off of the floor for a moment, but to no avail, it hit the backboard and bounced back to you.
"you should ease up your arm, you're too tense to be playing to your full ability." you turn to see caitlin standing by the court's edge, a calculated look on her face. "clark, I really don't need your help, I just need to practice. you're not exactly helping with that by the way."
she put her hands up in defense, "Actually that was exactly what I was doing. Plus, this isn't your gym, I can come in and practice too if I want." and that's what she did. every time she threw the ball you heard a faint swish and turned to see her lazily going to retrieve the basketball. she's some freak of nature really.
"wanna run some defense real quick?" she throws the ball to you, which you catch with an annoyed look. "sure," the tone of your voice would be enough to turn anyone away normally, but caitlin was one to never quit.
you guys had been trying to block the other on and off for about an hour, caitlin having more success than not. "seriously caitlin, I don't get how you just walk in here and play so easy." you guys were over by the benches, getting some water and checking your phones.
she looks up at you, shrugging. "no I mean seriously, if I told you to stand anywhere on the court you could make it. you practice infinite hours and yet your grades almost never falter." you hadn't really realized that you were going on a rant, but you were nothing but amazed by her talent. well maybe a little jealous too.
"wow l/n, I didn't know you were that big of a fan, do you want me to sign a shirt or something?" you would usually be annoyed by a snarky statement like this, but something about the exhaustion of practicing and the smile on her face made you smile a little too.
-
you woke up the next morning feeling less nervous about the game. practicing with caitlin was helpful, even if you swear for the rest of your life that it wasn't. She had told you about herself, in between breaks you guys would talk about what it was like playing basketball growing up.
she was easy to talk to.
you had been warming up for a little, talking to kate and trying to relax, like caitlin said. by half, both teams were tied at 45, and you were trying not to stress. you knew that you had a good team, and you knew that even if we were to fail it wouldn't be the end of the world.
you had a short water break at half, and caitlin came up to you, leaning down and whispering in your ear. "hey just relax, we got this, just get out of your head." you nodded, looking up and her. kate had given you guys an odd look, along with the rest of the team.
once the third quarter started, you were trying to guard angel resse. she was a difficult player to block, but you had managed to stop a few points and by the end of the third quarter Iowa was up by 11.
you could tell caitlin wasn't happy that we were so close to the end of the game and we barely had a lead. "c, just play like you did last night, don't think just play. you're not the best at thinking anyway." she rolled her eyes at your comment but smiled nonetheless.
"That's not what you said last night," she said as the whistle for the fourth quarter blew. your cheeks had turned a light shade of pink, one that you hoped you could play off as a tough game. you hadn't been put in for the fourth quarter coach opting to put someone else in and give you a break.
"since when have you and caitlin been friends?" you turn to see jada, confusion written on her face. "um, we've always been friends, just, not like good friends." you say, taking a sip of your water. "not "good friends?" you guys fight like there's no tomorrow. something happened and I and kate will find out." you shake your head, a smile on your face as you picture her and kate in old-timey investigater outfits.
"you have fun with that."
the game ends quickly after that, Iowa winning by 7 points. you smiled as you saw the team celebrate on the court, still holding good sportsmanship to LSU (for the most part..), you walked by the other team, high-fiving and telling resse that she's a tough player to block. you guys chat for a little before you say goodbye and walk into the locker room.
"what were you talking to resse about?" you hear caitlin before you see her, but when you do see her she's in the middle of changing out of her jersey into some random shirt. "nothing really, I was just telling her that she played well." you shrugged, walking over to your bag to get changed as well, trying not to stare at anyone.
"yeah, she played well I guess, we still won though." caitlin grabbed her bag in a huff, seeming to be a tad annoyed. "if I didn't know any better I would say you're mad I talked to her," you mumbled, but caitlin still heard.
"I'm not mad I just don't get why you don't treat our team like that, I mean you didn't congratulate any of us and we were the ones who won." caitlin's voice was raised now, you weren't sure where this was coming from but it ticked you off nonetheless.
"fine, you need some praise? good fucking job caitlin, our very own lord and savior." you rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag, and walking out to the bus to head back to campus. sitting down in the seat next to kate you were silent, not wanting to talk to anyone.
one thing though was that you most definitely hated caitlin clark.
-
you had gotten to Cleveland earlier that day, you had talked to the UConn team, since you used to play for them it was fun to chat with old teammates and meet the new players. you knew that caitlin and paige were friends, they used to play together and were a great duo. That's why you weren't surprised when she came over and started making her presence known, shutting down the conversation you were having with paige.
"yeah and then she had the audacity-" you were cut off by caitlin, smiling as she walked over and hugged paige. "hey bueckers, you better be ready to lose tomorrow." you glared at her not so subtly, sighing. "clark I was kind of in the middle of talking." she looked down at you, rolling her eyes. "yeah because you always have to talk to the opponents?"
paige had turned away at that point, talking to ice because she knew it was bound to be awkward if she continued standing there. "what is your problem? just because I didn't feed your ego one time im a problem? you need to get a grip." her jaw tightened at your words, you hadn't spoken loud, not wanting to draw too much attention to you guys.
"me? I'm not the one with the issues, you just seem to hate me for no reason at all. seriously, ever since you transferred to Iowa I've been trying to be your friend but you've taken everything I've done as an attack on you. me getting you dinner was not meant to send you into an allergic reaction and get you out of a game!" she hadn't taken into consideration that other people were around and she was talking at a voice level far too loud for the small area you were in.
you had dragged her to a corner, deciding it would be the easiest way to defuse the situation. "okay I'm sorry, you're just good at everything, and it's kind of hard to be friends with someone like that. it makes me feel like I have to prove I'm better which usually doesn't go over well. also, it wasn't even about the allergic reaction I just don't know why you got me dinner. I was fine by myself." caitlin rolls her eyes at your words but nods regardless.
-
you guys had won the game against UConn the next day, and you and caitlin finally working well together and not arguing throughout the game. there was a sort of understanding between the two of you guys now.
week two
you guys had ulitamtily lost the game against NC state, it was close and you guys had played hard. caitlin was anything but happy by the end of it, and not even kate or gabbie could fix it.
"clark, like you said, its not the end of the world. there will always be another game." you had said it to not only help her, but yourself. you weren't exactly pleased with the outcome of the game, none of team had been.
for caitlin it was different, she was going to the draft next week and losimg her lat college game wasn't something she could live with. but she would have to.
even though you hadn't really meant to, you had cheered caitlin up. even if it was only a little bit, her mood had improved and she was able to talk to the team with out an undertone of anger. the ride home wasn't the best trip of your life but you guys had managed to make the best of it for everyone sake.
seeing caitlin sit quietly on the bus made you start thinking about what it wold be like on the team with out her next year. with out her it would be so different, not to mention you were losing a bunch of other great players. but with out caitlin who would you compete with? she wasn't just a teammate, she was a friend, whether you guys were fighting or not you would miss her. plus she was nice to look at.
half way through the trip back to campus you guys had stopped to stretch your legs. when you got back on, you sat next to caitlin before she could put her feet up and block the seat.
"hey c," you smiled at her, and though she didn't show it you could tell that she was okay with you being there. you had looked over at what she was doing on her phone and you saw she was looking at her possible outfits for the draft.
"i like that one." you had pointed to your favorite of the options, a sparkly cropped top with a white button down and a skirt. it would look good on her.
she nodded, and quickly sent a text to her stylist that that was the one she wanted to wear. you had just picked out caitlin clarks wnba draft night outfit.
"i don't know what im going to do next year. i mean, the wnba is going to be great but seriously this team is to good to not miss." caitlin was picking at her fingernails, a bad habit of hers. "even though im on it?" you laughed a little, you knew she hadn't always liked you.
"no i think especially because you're on it. you've really been my number one compeition and with you gone i don't know who's going to keep my ego in check." she smiles at you, and you shake your head. "trust me clark, someone is going to get fed up and humble you."
something about the way she smiled the rest of the way home made you feel good. you really were going to miss her.
week three
it was draft night, and you had been invited along with some other team members to attend for caitlin. she and everyone looked so good, and the outfit you had chosen definitely distracted some people. (you included)
the draft was about to start and caitlin had been standing with you, kate, gabbie, and jada for a while before she finally had to leave. your leg was bouncing with anticipation when the commissioner came on stage with the first pick, but instantly cheers erupted from your group and many others in the room.
you were surprised when caitlin didn't instantly get up and head to the commissioner, instead, she hugged her family, stepped down off the stage to hug you first, and then, kate, jada, and gabbie, and then finally went to the commissioner. that's going to be in an edit.
the night went smoothly after that, you were getting texts from her often, and one of the commentators had pointed out that you both both on your phones. when the cameras panned over to her and you, the crowd cheered and you both waved. you felt your phone buzz a few seconds later with a text from caitlin, "they're watching us 😉" the cameras were still on you, so you flipped your phone showing the camera her message.
-
later that night, at the after party you were talking with Nika when caitlin had excused you both and you walked over to some corner. "hey, you know I was tal-" you were cut off by caitlin's lips on yours. it took you a moment but you kissed back.
what the fuck was happening. 
she pulled away after a second and you looked at her stunned, confusion evident on your face. "um, so like why did you do that?"
her face guys pink, and she looks confused as well. "I, um, i don't know why i did that. i just really wanted to kiss you." you nodded at her admittion, yet still confused.
"i think i've liked you since you transferred. i mean, i just like, i think that's why I've always competed with you, i just wanted to show off. It's why i got mad the other day, sorry about that by the way-" she was the one to get cut off this time as you kissed her again.
pulling away after a few seconds you smiled up at her, taking in your high difference for what seemed like the first time. "you're not all too bad either clark." you gave her one more peck and your smile widened even more if possible. "congrats on getting drafted by the way. I'll have to get you to sign a jersey for me."
CHAT I HATE THIS SO MUCH SOME ONE END ME. no like all jokes aside this is actual dookie. but i finally finished this little side blurb thing so yay!! making brownies rn i will update you on them! thats all chat, once again sos. - kate
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hayakawalove · 3 days
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Double the Pleasure
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Summary: Gojo catches you playing with yourself and wants to join.
A/N: Just something short but I think it's hot.
CW: Smut, Porn Watching, Mutual Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, Praise, Female Reader, AFAB Reader
W/C: 1,832
Credit to @benkeibear for the banner
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Fuck. 
The suctioning of your toy was placed directly over your body, making your body tremble in excitement. You had been at this for the past thirty minutes, laying on your stomach with your toy beneath you. It was pressed up against your clit, on the highest setting. You had left your shirt on, while your pants were torn from you and lay somewhere on the bed. You release a moan as your eyes focus on your phone in front of you. A video was playing on the screen, volume turned up just loud enough for your ears. You watch as the woman on screen gets fucked, her salacious moans filling the room. 
Your pussy clenches, making you groan. It felt so good, you knew you were close. You just needed that little push. Sometimes you found it hard to get yourself off when you were all by your lonesome. Normally, you have the added aid from a certain white haired man. He was out today, and wouldn’t be home for, you check the time, thirty minutes. 
You have time. 
If this were any other day you would have been fine waiting for him, knowing he would jump your bones the second you asked. But today you just felt so damn needy. Waiting sounded impossible. Your skin itched to be touched, so you didn’t stop yourself when your hands started wandering. 
Your eyes flutter as you watch the video, feeling yourself grow even needier by the second. Your pussy weeps at the sight of the actress getting fucked, wishing it was you. 
You don’t even realize the door is opened. Satoru stumbles inside, finding your body relaxed on the bed. 
“I’m home!” He calls out. “What’re you doing?” 
You jolt in bed, finger scrambling to turn off the video and your toy. Your breathing tries to regulate as you look over your shoulder. 
“N-nothing.” 
Satoru saunters over to you, a sly smirk spread across his face. He’s already decided to tease you. Whenever Satoru set his mind to bully someone, nothing could stop him. 
“Oh bunny, you know you’re a terrible liar.” He coos at you, crawling on the bed. 
“I’m not-“ you say, before you feel a pressure on top of you. 
Satoru’s laying on your back, head peering over your shoulder. His toned body pushes against yours, leaving you breathless. 
“You’re fucking heavy.” You murmur, your voice sounding pained. 
“How rude. I’m very nice to you and this is the thanks I get?” 
Your eyes twitch while you adjust under him, attempting to find any position that wouldn’t hurt. Satoru runs his hands down your arms, nuzzling into your hair. He was like a pet. 
“So let’s try this again, what were you doing?” 
“You already know what I was doing.” You mumble, pushing your face into the sheets even more. 
Part of you hoped they would swallow you whole. 
“Do I?” Satoru reaches for your phone but you refuse to loosen your grip. 
“Come on, say it and I’ll leave you alone.” 
Your skin prickles at the attention he’s giving you. Satoru knew you got embarrassed easily. It was a fact he delighted in frequently, often using it to his advantage at any turn. You take a deep breath, as deep as you can given the weight on top of you, and say, “I was touching myself. There. You got what you wanted.” Your words are hurried and quiet. 
Satoru smiles at your admission, thinking it was fucking adorable to hear you say that. 
“Aw, it wasn’t that hard now was it?” 
Intelligible words are spoken into the sheets, but Satoru pays them no mind. He reaches for your phone again when you’re not expecting it. Satoru knows the password so he types it in and looks at the screen. 
“I thought you were gonna leave me alone?” 
“You really fell for that? You’re a bad liar and you’re gullible.” Satoru swipes across your phone. 
“So what’re we watching?” He asks, opening up the video.   
“We?” You ask, trying to look at him behind you but you can’t. 
Satoru presses play, a soft chuckle passing by his lips. 
“Wow, you’re dirty.” He says your name while watching the video. 
Embarrassment floods your system, wishing you could hide under the covers but Satoru had you trapped, literally and figuratively. 
“Keep going.” Satoru says, voice unbothered as he watches the screen. 
It’s painful to swallow. He wanted you to keep touching yourself? You were tempted, you were so close to getting off before he interrupted you. 
The toy is still under you, pressed against your body just waiting to be turned on again. 
“But what about you?” You ask. 
“Don’t worry about me.” 
You caress the button before pressing on, your body trembling once you feel the suction against your tender skin. You let out a soft groan that Satoru hums at, before he’s pulling back. Shuffling of clothes can be heard while you bury your face into the sheets, and Satoru’s pressing himself back against you, only this time you can feel his bare skin on top of your body. 
“How does it feel?” He asks, gliding his hand up your side to push your shirt up. 
“G-good.” You shake against the toy, reveling in it even though it was on the lowest setting. 
“Yeah, could hear you from the door. You were moaning so fucking loud, neighbors could probably hear it too.” 
You dig your nails in the sheet beside your head, keeping your face pointed downwards. Your high was gone already, but you were sure it wouldn’t take long to come back now that Satoru was here. 
“Face up, don’t you wanna watch?” 
Glancing up you see Satoru’s veiny arm, his hand holding your phone in front of the two of you. The video is playing still, making you bite down on the inside of your cheek. 
Satoru grins down, glancing between your head and the video. He really wasn’t expecting this when he came home, but he wouldn’t say no. 
You feel him press down into you harder, and you’re able to identify his cock on your ass. He was already hard, the length of it heavy against you. 
“What’re you doing?” You ask. 
Satoru starts grinding against you, and keeps his eyes on the phone. 
“I wanna cum too.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
His cock slowly rubs against you, his body doing all the work. You could just have sex with each other, but this was so much hotter. 
“Turn it up for me, I wanna hear it.” 
You raise a shaky arm to turn the volume of the video up, allowing the sounds of it to fill the space between you. 
The two of you had never watched porn together. 
“Fuck, baby.” Satoru murmurs, maintaining a slow pace as his hips push against you. 
The two of you are staring at the phone, indulging in the way the two actors are fucking each other. It was hard, just how you and Satoru fucked. You even picked a video where they resembled the both of you, needing someone who looked like Satoru if you didn’t have the real thing. 
Satoru’s breathing is picking up, soft pants coming from behind you. Even if he was heavy, which he definitely wasn’t light, your mind wasn’t focused on that. All you could think about was the weight of his cock on you. 
“Bet that tight little pussy missed me right? ‘S why you couldn’t wait a little longer?” 
Satoru trails kisses up your arm, causing you to twitch beneath him. You could feel his leaky tip rub against your back, making you dizzy. 
“Come on baby, tell me you missed me.” Satoru all but begs. 
“I missed you Satoru.” You say his name sweetly. 
Your finger presses the button again, increasing the speed of your toy. The room was stifling. You touching yourself with Satoru on top of you gave you no wiggle room. 
“I know, baby.” Satoru murmurs against you. 
Satoru was in a talkative mood tonight, he usually was, but you could tell he was feeling it more so than usual. It excited you. He never disappointed with his words in bed. 
“Turn your toy up, wanna hear you moan.” Satoru instructs, keeping a steady hand as he holds your phone. 
You allow yourself to turn up the toy even more, the increase in suction making your mouth water. Moans start to escape your throat. 
“That’s it baby, let it out.” Satoru groans. “You feel so fucking good.” 
You can feel yourself clench around nothing, the combination of his words and the video in front of you going straight to your pussy. You turn it up to full, letting yourself feel good. 
Satoru keeps one hand up to support himself while the other holds your phone, his hips thrusting against you. The room is 100 degrees, you’re sure of it, as he rubs his cock against your ass. You bite your lip watching her get fucked as you imagine it being you, pussy remembering the stretch of Satoru. If you listen closely, you can hear his groans behind you mixed with the sounds coming from your phone. 
“God, bunny.” Satoru groans.
With each pump of his hips, he shoves you forward slightly only to be held against the toy harder. 
“S-Satoru, hnng,” You pant as you feel yourself get closer. 
“What was that?” He taunts, leaning down against you even more. 
“I-I can’t take it, it-“ 
“Yes you can, this is what you were doing when I was gone wasn’t it? Filthy girl can’t even w-wait.” 
Drool is seeping from the sides of your lips, trying to contain your moans. Satoru goes faster, his cock nudging between your ass cheeks. There’s a mess between your thighs now, your wetness coating your skin. You can’t decide whether to focus your attention on the sounds behind you or in front of you. You moan into the sheets below you as you feel yourself get closer. You wouldn’t be able to last much longer. 
“Satoru I’m gonna-“ 
“F-fuck yes, cum for me baby come on, fuck.” 
Satoru groans behind you, slamming his hips over your ass. Your pussy clenches as you cum, burying your head in the bed to quiet the moans coming from you. Satoru moans louder when he hears you cum, finding as much enjoyment out of it as you do. 
“I’m close baby, stay still for me, please stay still.” The desperation from his voice leaves you breathless. 
You feel warm spurts against your back as Satoru lets out a moan, his hips slowing down. He drops your phone down and pushes himself up to look at the cum on you. 
He shuffles before grabbing a cloth to wipe you up, his eyes full of love as he watches you. 
“Next time, wait for me to start.” 
“Okay.” You slur out, wrapping yourself around Satoru when he lays down. 
Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @constawrites
Please let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist and specify what you want to be tagged in, like all my posts or only jujutsu kaisen posts
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beautifulhigh · 2 days
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Hi hi!! It's unfair of me to ask you to actually write the full essay on the rwrb red room kiss scene, but I saw your tags and am very interested in at least what the main thesis would be, if you feel like sharing!! No worries if not 😊 Have a good night/day/whatever time it is where you are!
The last few weeks have been, well. They've Been™ and I'm going to use this wonderful ask to dust off my overthinking tag and write a meta post on this movie, these boys, and then hope more than three people care what I have to say.
The Red Room kiss scene is Iconic™ and Important™ and in this essay I (really) will discuss agency, framing, and why it always had to be Alex to be the one to make the move.
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While book!Alex takes book!Henry to the Red Room, here he's waiting. Bundle of nervous energy. He doesn't know what to do with himself, how to hold himself, how to present himself when Henry turns up. He's backlit in this (which is a theatre technique, I see you Matthew) but it also adds to the drama and tension of the scene.
The (in)famous painting of Hamilton, about to bear witness to things.
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We jump cut between Alex trying to find... something. Here he is realising his shirt has come slightly undone and he wants to try and be somewhat presentable. At least for the moment. But it speaks to Alex's physicality in this scene because he is shifting and moving so much that his clothing is shifting. There's also an interpretation that this suit represents the formality of the situation - the Prime Minister's dinner, at which he (the First Son) and the boy he wants to kiss (the actual Prinec) are supposed to be front and centre and the picture of formality.
He's coming undone in this moment because he's the First Son and he's waiting for the Prince, but he's also Alex and he's waiting for Henry.
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Ah, yes. The casual lean against the wall. Fancy seeing you here, your Royal Highness, what do you think of the menu? But there's grounding here too. When you're spiralling focusing on a physical point of contact between you and and something can help ground you.
It's also a defensive stance in a way. You shall not pass, I'm not moving. Alex is claiming space and territory and he's controlling it.
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"How dare you fucking kiss me, run away, ghost me, then walk into the White House like nothing changed." This is closed off, defensive, protective - probably why it's the quickest of the poses to be dismissed. He's got his back against the wall like he's scared or ready to come out fighting. And, in a way, both of those are true.
Book!Alex is mid-crisis on his bisexuality and while he logically knows he is very much into Henry, he's not gotten to the point of turning theory into reality.
Movie!Alex is more chill about being into guys, but this attraction to Henry is confusing him. He hates the guy. He wants to punch him in the mouth. With his mouth.
(What? That's literally book canon: and if he weren’t already hell-bent on destroying Henry’s infuriating idiot face with his mouth right now, he would consider doing it with his fist.)
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Casual lean against the table, less staged and jarring than the extended arm against the wall.
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But then Henry walks in and Alex stands to attention and he is... rapt. He is calm and composed and he is focused. We're back to the back-lit position which helps frame him with a near-halo effect.
And you can see that he is relaxed. There's a slight drop in the jaw, his shoulders are sloped and rounded. Because none on what he was trying to convey before matters. Henry is here.
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"Look" he starts with - he's expecting a fight. He's expecting Alex to go off on one for the kiss, for the liberty taken. Even if Alex is willing to forget that it ever happened, take Henry's secret to the grave, Henry gets one thing right in this.
"my behaviour was appalling"
Because it was. Look, Hen, I love you and I'm with Alex in the feeling that I will go to war for you to see you happy and safe. But you did kinda kiss him without consent (harsh reading) and you did ghost him without apology (soft reading) and for a boy raised in the Royal Household that... well... it's pretty much top items on the Very Bad Behaviour list. He did not act with decorum or dignity, he did not act in the way that his status and position demands.
(That's OK, Hen. Because the boy under the linden tree wasn't the Prince. It's OK to not be him, and Alex is going to spend the rest of his life loudly loving the man, not the prince.)
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"Shut up, stop talking." // “Shut up, shut all the way up, oh my God,” Alex hisses
Because even though both versions of Alex said he wanted to talk to Henry, in the moment that's the last thing he wants to do. And actions speak louder than words, right?
Why it had to be Alex
Henry needed to make the first move, that New Year's kiss, because there needed to be something to make Alex realise that this thing he's feeling is very much reciprocated, and that Henry wants it too. If Alex had kissed Henry for the first time on New Year's Eve/Day then it would have been too much of a leap. Alex, at whatever stage of his bisexual journey, has no clear idea of Henry's orientation at that party. It's only with retrospective viewing that he realises that Henry was low-key flirting, and that the sharing of these deeply personal moments wasn't just a "two bros in a hot tub" thing.
So Henry had to kiss Alex first but then he had to run because there was no way that the mostly-closeted, private Prince could accept that a) he fucking kissed a boy, b) said boy is the one he's been dreaming of since Rio/Melbourne, and c) the boy kinda?? kissed him back?? Henry will have been having a low-grade anxiety attack all through January (and trying to reclaim some control with the date he went on in the book).
In this moment, Alex knows all the pieces. He's played this logic game to its conclusion and he knows all the facts. 1) Henry is gay. 2) Henry is into him. 3) He's into Henry. That last fact is something Henry isn't fully aware of (or at least can't bring himself to believe it to be true) and so it has to be Alex.
He doesn't want Henry to say something that would get in the way of this, doesn't want to hear any kind of pre-prepared speech of "yeah, we're better off as friends" that always happens when the couple get too close to getting together too early in the run time. Alex is full on shutting that down, shutting Henry up, and he gives as good as he got.
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"Wait a minute" // Henry’s too shocked to respond, mouth falling open slackly in a way that’s more surprise than invitation, and for a horrified moment Alex thinks he calculated all wrong, but then Henry’s kissing him back, and it’s everything.
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And this time it's both of them. Framed between Hamilton and the books. The American political trailblazer and the literary. In the space between? There's our boys.
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Alex's hand is on the wall again and he's controlling the space but Henry is very much in it. He's protective but in a different way.
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In one frantic motion, Alex knocks the candelabra off the table next to them and pushes Henry onto it so he’s sitting with his back against—Alex looks up and almost breaks into deranged laughter—a portrait of Alexander Hamilton. Henry’s legs fall open readily and Alex crowds up between them, wrenching Henry’s head back into another searing kiss. They’re really moving now, wrecking each other’s suits, Henry’s lip caught between Alex’s teeth, the portrait’s frame rattling against the wall when Henry’s head drops back and bangs into it. Alex is at his throat, and he’s somewhere between angry and giddy, caught up in the space between years of sworn hate and something else he’s begun to suspect has always been there. It’s white-hot, and he feels crazy with it, lit up from the inside. Henry gives as good as he gets, hooking one knee around the back of Alex’s thigh for leverage, delicate royal sensibilities nowhere in the cut of his teeth. Alex has been learning for a while Henry isn’t what he thought, but it’s something else to feel it this close up, the quiet burn in him, the pent-up person under the perfect veneer who tries and pushes and wants. He drops a hand onto Henry’s thigh, feeling the electrical pulse there, the smooth fabric over hard muscle. He pushes up, up, and Henry’s hand slams down over his, digging his nails in.
The sensibility of the suits is on its way out, they're not the First Son and the Prince. And Alex is taking the lead.
Agency
Henry is somewhat passive in this - although he is fully engaged - but it's Alex who set this in motion. Pun intended. Alex who pushed him against the wall. Alex who pushed him up onto the table and hiked his leg up around his hip, Alex who is driving in. Because Alex needs Henry to know that third fact. The one he's worked out, the one that Henry is just catching up with. This isn't payback, it's not some prank. Alex Wants™.
There's a scene I'm writing in my current FirstPrince WiP in which Alex and Henry have a charged moment. And Henry wants to act on it but those princely sensibilities get in the way and he can't let himself be led into doing something that could be used against him. If Henry made all the moves then the accusation of him taking advantage, of the inherant imbalance that comes with status and titles and positions of power. So in the scene, and here, Alex takes the lead. There's no way anyone could accuse Henry of forcing Alex into doing this.
(Good luck getting Alex to do ANYTHING he doesn't want to.)
So Alex gives and Henry takes and he gets the memo very quickly.
Fact number three. Alex wants this too.
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Then Movie!Amy walks in on them (which IMO is way funnier than Book!Amy hissing through a crack in the door) and these idiots try to act like they weren't redefining International Relations a second ago. Alex is by the painting, Henry is by the books. They've gone back to their sides and they're playing at being interested in what they find there. But they're not, it's all for show, someone who gives a passing glance at this point sees this part of them, this side of them The First Son and the Prince: the politician and the literary.
They're both backlit, they're in line even if it doesn't look like it, Alex is no longer on Henry's right, and they're both trying to act like the people that others could see them as.
But we - and they - know better. 1) Henry is gay. 2) Henry is into Alex. 3) Alex is into Henry.
4) Everyone is on the same page now.
(Also I know Casey talked about seeing the Red Room on a White House tour and so that's why they included a scene in that room in their book, but I cannot ignore the fact that red = love and passion and danger and fire [the counter to the water motif] and it's a warm colour designed to excite.)
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