#but this is one of my favorites from last year

[pupyuj]

→ “your colorful secrets.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— weeks after the event which you call "the weirdest thing that's ever happened all year", wonyoung approaches you about your 'strange' behavior towards her in the most 'wonyoung' way possible...

word count: 10.6k

dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!reader.

content warnings: smut, fingering, clit play, nipple play, masturbation (for like, a minute lmao), overstimulation, mommy kink, degradation.

requested? : kind of!

a/n: well, we finally made it ya'll! 😭😭💞 i feel like i'm gonna say this about every fic i write here from now on but PHEWWW THIS QUITE LITERALLY TOOK FOREVER?? but i was more than happy to flesh this little universe out more and revisit our favorite mean girl and her awkward nerd <33 just like you guys, "magic words" is one of my favorite things that i have written so even though this kinda took me wayyy too long to finish, I WAS SO HAPPY THAT I STILL DID IT UEUEUE MEAN GIRL WONY MY BELOVED 🥺💓 anyhow, i really, really hope you guys enjoy this and here's to more mean girl wonys in the future hehehe

p.s. i hope ya'll don't get bored too easily bcs wow there's a shit ton of talking in the first half of this fic—

previous: magic words.

jang wonyoung was late. 

to class.

which wasn’t exactly all that surprising considering she thinks she can do whatever she wants. but she was never late to class. you would know—you were always waiting until she entered the room. it was like you were never calm until she appeared, but that was because you have had the biggest, lamest crush on her all year. even the professor took a pause when he called wonyoung’s name for attendance and nobody was there to respond with “i’m here, professor~” and a cheeky smile. you stared at the empty seat in the middle of the classroom, wonyoung’s seat, and wondered what could’ve been in her way for her to— 

“just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?”

you dropped your pen, covering your red face with your hands. your seatmate gave you a brief look before going back to reading her notes. did you really have to think about that first thing in the morning? well, it wasn’t as if it was all you have been thinking about for the past two weeks: wonyoung’s lips on yours, her hands all over you, her sweet voice soothing you, and her eyes looking at you like you were her last meal… you still couldn’t believe that entire thing even happened!

ever since then, things have been really weird. a lot of people looked at you more when before wonyoung fucked you, you were usually ignored which you liked. and you knew everybody whispered about you and wonyoung too. neither of you were being discreet in that room in the library that day so you heard all sorts of things from your fellow students the day after. usually about how they didn’t think you were that kind of girl, or how they never thought wonyoung would ever consider fucking ‘someone like you’. see, other people would be mad if they heard some strangers say all those things about them but actually, you agreed with them.

everything about that day went against a lot of things that you thought about yourself. well, you weren’t planning on staying a virgin forever but you really didn’t expect for it to be taken by jang wonyoung of all people!

“come on, baby. give me a show.”

you squeezed your thighs together, your heart hammering inside your chest. god, it almost felt like wonyoung was right up against your ear—talking to you and berating you for thinking about her 24/7 after she fucked you. you felt your core clench upon remembering how warm wonyoung’s hands were, how her fingers felt ramming inside you… god, you wanted it all again. but there was no way she would agree to that, right? knowing wonyoung and the kind of girl that she was, that would be the only time she would fuck you, right?

a pink jacket catches your attention, making you look up from your thighs. jang wonyoung has finally arrived. she was talking to the professor as she sat in her seat, all smiles and giggles as usual. she throws a brief glance over her shoulder, sharp eyes meeting yours. you didn’t miss the way the corner of her mouth lifted up, smirking at you as she eyed you down. you didn’t even know how the fuck she was able to do that within a millisecond of looking at you, but she did it anyway and it only made you squirm in your seat.

oh, how pathetic you were. you’ve been feeling all sorts of things after wonyoung fucked you, but you never knew what to do about them. for now, you just wanted to get through another day of being in wonyoung’s presence despite everything that’s happened. she hasn’t spoken much to you since that day and you doubted that anything was going to change—she’s jang wonyoung after all. you were probably just another hook-up to her, something she’s bound to forget about in a week or so.

(see, that was just all kinds of wrong because right at this moment, all the nosy people who were staring at wonyoung can clearly see how she spared your pitiful figure by the window little glances every other minute with a sly smile on her face. she didn’t make an effort to be discreet. she never does. when jang wonyoung likes something, she is going to let people know—she has to! or else they’ll all just think you’re up for grabs.

no. wonyoung was going to show them only she can really pull all the nice girls in this school. especially you—(y/n) (l/n), the campus’ adorably awkward bookworm who’s very endearingly clumsy despite her well-put appearance. god, how wonyoung had become obsessed with you and you had absolutely no idea.

but it was more than just your character too. for a while now, actually ever since she fucked you, something about you has been bothering her mind. it’s made her unable to stop thinking about you and truthfully, it fucking pissed her off so much that she had to brainstorm a plan, a solution, for it. which became the reason why she was late today. will wonyoung actually execute it? who knows! for now, she can stare at you scribbling on your notes and laugh to herself because she knew, oh she so knew, that every time you paused, shut your eyes, and shook your head—you were thinking about her.)

thankfully, the class ended after another hour and a half. halfway through it all, you got bored and opted to stare out the window. so much so that you didn’t realize class was over until the familiar scent of money and local fame wafted into your nose—wonyoung had walked past you, and she winked at you. you found yourself freezing up in your seat, so fucking pathetic. nobody seemed to notice what wonyoung had just done which was fortunate for you! with bright red cheeks and ears, you packed up our belongings in record time and swiftly power-walked your way out of the classroom.

the attention that was put on you as you walked along the hallways of the building was annoying, for the lack of a better word. it seems like everybody was looking at you as if this was the very first instance of a loser somehow ‘getting’ the popular girl to sleep with her. sometimes, you wish it never happened. as good as it felt, the aftermath was almost not worth it. you’ve heard cruel things being said about you after that day and to save your enrollment, you kept yourself quiet and pretended like you were unaware. except that you weren’t, so every time you make eye contact with someone and they start whispering to their friend or something, it only adds up to that pool of anger that was slowly building up from the pit of your stomach.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to blame wonyoung for it all. you were part of the act as much as she was but you also can’t say that you brought all this attention and rumors to yourself. you blamed the other girl’s stupid reputation, actually. but it’s not like you can rewind time and make yourself leave that goddamn room when you thought wonyoung was never going to come. there was no point in dwelling on it now. it happened and you have to live with the consequences. being talked about isn’t half as bad as the threat of your scholarship getting revoked anyway.

you were right on the other side of the building when you realized you had no idea where you wanted to go. you just wanted to get out of that classroom, away from wonyoung’s sights so she can’t have you acting up in front of everybody. not that you would actually be able to make stable eye contact with her anyway. naturally, you found yourself marching towards the washroom. you were nearing to the door when you heard a few girls chattering lively.

you entered the washroom and there stood in front of the mirror were kim jiwon and shim jayoon—your acquaintances and wonyoung’s super smart best friends from one of the science programs. they were the last people you wanted to see face-to-face and for good reason! as soon as they saw you, they squealed and grabbed your arm, yanking you to stand in front of the mirror with them. “there’s the woman of the hour!” jiwon teased, lightly pinching your cheek.

“more like woman of the week—literally nobody is shutting up about you! this must feel like heaven.” jayoon nudges your arm, firmly believing that you liked all of the attention you were getting when you really didn’t. you would do anything to be invisible again.

“is this really what it feels like to be popular? i hate it,” you grumbled, earning a sigh from jayoon. “i don’t know how you guys ever manage.”

“you have an outdated opinion about all of this, baby girl! don’t you like having everyone’s eyes on you? now they’ll see how much of a pretty little thing you are—it’s great!” jiwon said. no, she was not very successful in convincing you that this wasn’t the worst thing that’s ever happened in your academic life so far. but you decided that you wouldn’t fight her on it and instead, stand idly between the two girls while they gossiped and twirled and played with your hair.

you were completely signed off from the conversation; the only thing in your mind was the feeling of wonyoung’s hands in your hair while she kissed you. unconsciously, you touched your lips with your fingers. fuck.

“oh, you’ve got it bad, huh?” jiwon teases.

“hey, don’t blame (y/n)! wonyoung’s a good kisser—i’d miss her lips too,” jayoon sighs dreamily. then she gasps and grips your forearm tightly. “do you want to fuck her again?” she asked with shiny eyes.

“w-what?!”

“where’d you get your information from, jayoon? wonyoung fucked her.”

“oh, right!”

you covered your face with your hands, “please stop talking.”

jayoon forcefully pries your hand off your face, “listen, gaeul-sunbae is having a party next week and we’ll be there with wonyoung! you should come! we’ll make sure to get you guys a room.” jayoon says with a wink. god, they’d let the two of you fuck in a house full of your schoolmates?! that would just add onto your world of troubles.

“i’m not going to any party and i’m never sleeping with wonyoung again, okay? i just—i want this all to end. i hate it when i’m looked at.” you gently wiggled yourself out of the two girls’ hold and once again marched towards the door.

“you shouldn’t have fucked her then.” jayoon says with a shrug as you reach for the handle, making you pause.

“she fucked me.” you corrected your friend before swinging the door open and exiting the washroom.

“yeah jayoon get your facts straight!” you heard jiwon laugh as you bolted out of the washroom. you rolled your eyes, shaking your head, and glaring at the first person you saw in the hallway. the person in question raised an eyebrow before turning to talk with his friend, eyes lingering on your leaving figure.

gosh, this school was a nightmare.

nevertheless, you survive the long walk back to your classroom without sparing another person a glance. did you bump into people because you absolutely refused to look up? yes! did you care? not at all. it was much, much better than dealing with the scrutiny in everyone’s eyes. apparently, sex was only a problem when the girl who wanted nothing to do with it actually did it. every time you remembered how everyone in the library looked at you after you and wonyoung left that private room, you wanted to scream. literally. all of the negative things that came after the event made you forget about the sweet stuff. like the way wonyoung insisted on driving you home, how she walked you to a bus stop when you refused to ride with her, how she patiently and wordlessly waited for your bus with you, and how she gave you a kiss on the cheek when your bus did arrive.

but what good was having wonyoung’s attention if everybody was also going to look at you, but in a worse light?

you knew it probably wasn’t fair, but you grew a tiny bit of resentment towards the popular girl.

you entered your classroom after a deep breath—eyes glued to the ground and hands hidden under the straps of your backpack. it felt like you were back in high school all over again. this sucked so bad. but unfortunately, getting to your seat was only a bumpy road! all you had to do was not look up and start reading material once you’ve sat down. it should be so easy. of course, fate had other ideas.

wonyoung had bumped into you while walking towards her own seat, forcing you to tear your gaze from the ground to look at her. oh, she was so pretty—no, (y/n)! “sorry.” wonyoung says with a cheeky smile. (she was excited that she finally got you to look at her. and as expected…) you blushed, merely looking away from the other girl before rushing to your seat. you heard a few giggles behind you which only confirmed your suspicions—it was definitely planned. it didn’t help that your cheeks and ears were flushed red… gosh, even your neck felt warm. you know what also didn’t help? how wonyoung’s intense gaze didn’t leave your figure for a while. you could feel her staring at you like you were some piece of meat for her to devour and you weren’t even exaggerating by saying all that!

it was the same kind of look she was giving you right before she kissed you that day. despite your resistance, you met wonyoung’s stare. you noticed that she was surprised to see you raise your head, but it looked like it pleased her more than anything. wonyoung tilts her head and smiles slyly at you while her eyes travel from your hands, your exposed thighs, to your legs… now who knew jang wonyoung could be such a pervert? you squeezed your thighs together, glaring slightly at wonyoung who merely giggled before finally turning around and facing the front.

things like that—wonyoung’s attention, her interest, her affection—were the only good to come out from that hook-up. the rest? the side-eyes, the rumors, the whispers, the unwanted popularity spike? you wanted nothing to do with it. but, again, it wasn’t like you could reverse time.

so, you were going to do what you’ve always been good at: hide yourself to the point of invisibility. it’s never failed you before, and it shouldn’t now.

the only challenge was jang wonyoung herself—will she let you out of her sight?

you didn’t want to think about the most obvious answer. instead, you tried your damned hardest to not think about her at all for the rest of the day. you poured all of your attention to the lectures, the coursework, and the notes. basically anything just to avoid hearing her voice in your head again. at least it wasn’t as bad as the first few days after she fucked you. during those times, you quite literally replayed the entire thing in your head every minute. it wasn’t surprising that you ended up failing a few small quizzes around that time.

when you’ve put every belonging you had in your backpack, you practically rushed to get up from your seat and headed to the door. avoiding every eye that latched onto your figure. you successfully passed wonyoung’s seat without trouble until…

“ah, (y/n)! finally, i can talk to you.”

ms. lim, the professor for your last class of the day, calls you. you turned around with a tight-lipped smile on your face, reluctantly walking closer to the teacher’s desk while most of your classmates walked out of the door. wonyoung was still in the room. she was staring. fuck, why is she always staring?!

“i wanted to thank you for all the help you gave last week for jiyoung’s little… ‘art for amateurs’ club.” ms. lim sighed at the name (she has always hated it but ms. kim jiyoung, her fiancé, loved it too much to change it) and smiled up at you.

“no need for thanks, ma’am. i was passing by the art room that day and i just thought i’d help.” you hear a few people shuffle behind you. more students walking out. a flash of pink walks by behind you. wonyoung. you blinked and smiled at the professor, acting as normal as you could.

“if you don’t mind, i need you to do another favor for me,” ms. lim opens up one of her drawers and carefully takes out a lunch bag from it. the professor smiles sheepishly at you. “i hate to ask my students to do little chores like this. but i’m going to be preoccupied with grading and lesson plans for the rest of the day and that idiot jiyoung forgot to grab her food from me.”

you chuckled lightly, “hard to imagine ms. kim of all people would forget about her food. i’ll take it to her, no worries.” you carefully held the lunch bag in your hands and smiled at your professor.

“thank you, (y/n). she’s been all over the place lately! worrying about this one special pupil of hers that she’s practically begging to put up a piece of her work in the walls of the art building. it’s a whole thing, i won’t bore you about it. run along.” ms. lim waves you off with a laugh. you bowed to the professor before happily exiting the classroom with ms. kim’s lunch bag in hand. when you left the room, you saw that the hallways were still quite full with students lounging about—looks like it wasn’t going to be an easy walk to the fine arts building but oh well.

the first hurdle was squeezing through a crowd of jocks from different teams creating a ruckus in the middle of the hallway. the second struggle was nearly getting picked on by said jocks when they just so happened to notice you sneaking by. thankfully, a nice cheerleader with red hair diverted their attention so you could slip away. it was a quiet and pleasant walk along the school courtyard towards the fine arts building from there, with only the wind and soft rustling of leaves accompanying you.

the building was quiet, save for your own footsteps. usually, the hallways would be filled with sounds of casual chatter and the muffled voices of instructors and students alike. you had to say though, you much rather preferred the silence. it was comforting. you were usually surrounded with a lot of yelling, hollering, and laughing which sometimes wasn’t all that bad but considering everything that’s been happening the fast few days… yeah, this was preferable.

it didn’t take long for you to reach ms. kim’s classroom, and there you were met with a vast empty room littered with half-finished paintings and beautiful illustrations created by the students and ms. kim herself. there was a backpack and a big canvas set near the back of the classroom but you pay it no mind. it was common for students to stay after school hours just to kill time or work on their projects. you put down the lunch bag on ms. kim’s desk, all the more ready to turn around and leave when a particular painting caught your eye.

it wasn’t anything special by any means. in fact, it was buried behind more colorful paintings and you could only see half of it. you approached the painting, looking around the other canvases just to see it in full. it didn’t look finished, but then again maybe that was part of the appeal. the painting was that of an arrangement of beautiful flowers in a jar, they were wilting. or maybe they were just coming to life, looking at the soft streams of sunlight that shone down on them.

regardless, you didn’t have the luxury to analyze the painting any further when you heard shuffling behind you. alarmed, you turned your head quickly and… well, fuck.

“wonyoung…”

the tall girl clad in pinks and blues smiles at you. it wasn’t a very comforting smile.

“the one and only,” well, that sounded familiar. you watched as wonyoung threads the ends of her hair using her dainty little fingers. a smirk dances on her lips while she stares you down, very much liking how she has rendered you speechless with her mere presence. a bit of a dramatic statement but it was true! “how’d you like my work?” wonyoung asked, eyes quickly flickering over to the flower painting behind you.

you followed her stare, but quickly looked back at her in shock. “you painted that?” you gasped.

“you make me sound like i’m just a stupid bimbo,” wonyoung sighs dramatically. “of course, i painted it. would anyone else’s work look as gorgeous?” ‘charming’ as ever, wonyoung flips her hair over her shoulder with a smug look on her pretty face. you turned away, very quickly rolling your eyes before settling them back on the painting. you were impressed. you wouldn’t have guessed that wonyoung of all people would have that kind of talent, but then again, she is one of the class-toppers and nobody knows who she is exactly.

“it’s beautiful.” you admitted. you heard wonyoung chuckle, but she doesn’t say much else. you don’t look back at her, choosing to stare at her painting instead. again, something stopped you from looking further into it. wonyoung stood beside you, briefly looking at her painting with a somber look on her face before quickly covering it up with her usual cheeky, queen bitch smile. it was dead silent. did you even want to speak to her? for two weeks, you’ve resented all the attention that was given to you because of her. you’ve glared at the back of her head, cursed her in your mind whenever some students whispered about you… but somehow, you’re the one who’s tongue-tied now that you were actually alone with her.

it was confusing—feelings, that is. hell, the last real face-to-face interaction you’ve had with her was on that day. when she kissed your cheek before you got on your bus.

“wasn’t expecting you to be here, (y/n),” wonyoung unzips her pink jacket, slowly taking it off before putting it on an empty seat. you watched her from the corner of your eye, she was taking deep breaths and you could hear her. then she fixes her hair and turns around wearing a glowing smile. “but this is just perfect.” she steps towards you and instinctively, you jolted backwards.

“i-i just dropped something off for ms. kim… from ms. lim, i mean. i should get going.” well, it wasn’t going to be easy! what with wonyoung being inside your personal bubble and your heart beating so fast that you can’t quite hear your own thoughts. it didn’t help that she towered over you, and again, her perfume was a fucking weapon—rendering you immobile.

“don’t be like that, (y/n). i’m upset with you.” wonyoung says with a pout. cute, but you really shouldn’t let your stupid crush on her stop you from just getting the hell away! wonyoung was fascinated with the way your eyes wandered. she knew that no matter how angry you were with her, she was always going to have the same effect on you. and it was delicious. being able to have that much of an impact on someone. 

“you never called or texted me. i was waiting, especially after i sent you home,” wonyoung stands even closer and for a second, you actually saw some kind of emotion in her eyes. dissatisfaction, perhaps. “didn’t know you were like that, (y/n).”

“i d-didn’t even think you’d want me to contact you after… after all of that.”

“i wouldn’t have given you my number if i didn’t want you begging for more of me over the phone, dumbass.” wonyoung bumps your shoulder with her own as she walks past you. the way you looked (confused and… so fucking stupid) must’ve made her pissed, judging by the way she started dragging her equipment around with her eyebrows furrowed and eyes glaring at you every now and then. you stood there awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of your uniform. you should really leave. you had things to do at home! this wasn’t a time to waste with someone who was mad at you and someone you were mad with.

all it takes was a period of silence to remind of how much wonyoung affected your life. and suddenly all the anger was back. the longer you stood there and looked at her, the more it boiled up and threatened to tip over. but you were going to be mature. you were going to leave the classroom and go on with your life, leaving it all (wonyoung) behind.

“i have a few ideas on how you can make it up to me though.” wonyoung averts her gaze from the empty canvas in front of her to you.

given the way she was looking at you—or rather, has been looking at you, wonyoung was up to no good. and if you wanted any chance to redeem the little reputation you had in this academy, you had to be strong and not get swayed by her and her pretty little face and those soft lips and that mesmerizing pair of eyes. you shook your head, “i am not fucking with you again, wonyoung.”

the taller girl laughed, “what? did it look like i was going to make you do that? gee, (y/n), it takes one hook-up to corrupt you, huh?” wonyoung laughs, a smirk making its way to her face when she sees you glaring daggers at her. “you’re going to be my muse.” she says, crossing her arms and scanning you up and down. gosh, she didn’t even bother to hide the lust behind her stare… but you could tell that her statement wasn’t a joke.

“you’re… going to paint me?” you asked. wonyoung hums, staring right at you as she pulled her hair up to a ponytail, quietly anticipating your answer while you stood idly by the windows.

“only reason i’m here is because ms. kim has been begging for me to put something of my own up in the hallways. usually i would just refuse but the lady’s been nice to me since i stepped a foot in this school so why not? plus, what’s a better subject than my latest and possibly most popular fling?” wonyoung gives you a very sarcastic smile that makes you roll your eyes. you seriously needed to get out of here.

you were more than ready to leave until you remembered the way wonyoung’s eyes looked when she confronted you about the silence you gave her. then a pang of guilt hits you the more you think about her actions after the two of you hooked up. the walking together, the waiting together, and the kiss on the cheek. maybe attempting to cut her off was a dick move on your part…

“okay.”

wonyoung’s face visibly lights up. adorable.

“where do you want me?” you asked, blushing at the sight of the cute look on her face. all of your activities can wait. you wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself knowing that you were potentially hurting someone. albeit unintentionally and the person in question being your best slash worst nightmare.

“just sit in front of me and we’ll figure it out from there.” and so, you and wonyoung get to work. well, of course it was mostly her doing the work while you just sat on a stool and listened carefully to whatever she told you. 

oddly enough, the weight of her stare wasn’t as intimidating or nerve-wracking like it usually was. wonyoung had a certain softness in her eyes as she studied your features closely, and every time you figured that she saw something she liked, something would sparkle behind those beautiful brown eyes. watching wonyoung in what seems to be her natural environment… well, ‘unexpected’ would be the understatement of the year. you figured it would be parties and social clubs and outlet malls but then again, nobody really knew wonyoung.

getting so much as a glimpse of the untouchable popular girl was truly something. and despite everything that’s happened you find yourself feeling the way you did the first time you laid eyes on her on campus during freshman year. awestruck, with your heart nearly beating out of your chest as you desperately tried to look at something that isn’t her but ultimately failing. wonyoung gives you a smile, and it wasn’t her usual cheeky-teasing one. she looked… bashful? and is that a hint of pink on her cheeks?

it was strange to see, but you ended up smiling a little at the sight of a rare cute wonyoung. the tall girl’s cheeks show a deeper shade of pink as soon as your lips curled up in a smile, making you giggle a little. not a lot of words were shared between the two of you after that as wonyoung completely immerses herself in her work. and during that entire time you just stared at her, admiring her focused state. you wondered if she was concerned at all about making a mistake—her hand moved skillfully across the canvas with the attitude of someone that was sure about their abilities. you would hear an occasional tut partnered with a quick hum and followed by a quiet, satisfied laugh, giving you the impression that wonyoung was confident about the picture she was painting of you.

you��ve never been more curious in your life. you wanted to know how wonyoung sees you. it would be from an artist’s perspective but maybe you’ll see even a spot of how wonyoung truly sees you deep inside. especially after everything that has gone down between the two of you, and especially after her reaction to you forcing yourself to forget her existence for two weeks. it’s not like you were looking for any chance of the popular girl returning your feelings, you just wanted to know if you were anything to her at all. maybe you’ll get to know it here.

“(y/n),” wonyoung snaps you back into reality. she beckons you over with a proud look on her face. “come over here. see if you like it.”

soon enough, you were standing beside wonyoung, staring at the most impressive painting in the room. it was you; sitting on that stool wearing a gentle smile, but almost half of your entire form was covered by a slightly see-through curtain and the tiniest streams of sunlight. at first glance, the painting looks incomplete or rather, abruptly finished but it looks perfect in your eyes. and on wonyoung’s eyes too, judging by the way she looked at her own work with approval.

“it’s beautiful, wonyoung.” you said with a grateful smile.

“mhm. it’s y—” wonyoung pauses, and clears her throat. “obviously.” she said, chuckling awkwardly and flipping her hair over her shoulder with less flair than usual. you did not know what the hell that was all about. (“it’s you.” wonyoung wanted to say. but she bit her tongue real quick. why? well, jang wonyoung was not one to try to woo a nerd of all things like that! but really though—it’s you. of course it’s beautiful.)

you were admiring the painting some more and the longer you did, the more you noticed just how many details wonyoung put into it. from the slight crinkle of your eyes while you’re smiling down to that tiny little scar you had on your right cheek. amazing.

“w-wait, you’re going to put this up in this building?” you asked, now blushing wildly. it’s not even that you were embarrassed of having your face put up in the fine hallways of this campus (there have been many instances of your face being plastered everywhere because of your very impressive achievements as an honor student). it’s the fact that wonyoung was involved in all of this that makes it all complicated.

“no.”

surprised, you looked at wonyoung with slightly widened eyes. she worked hard for this painting for the sole reason of putting it up, and now she won’t? maybe she sensed your discomfort at the thought of putting up a painting of you made by wonyoung, which you know would just repeat the never-ending nightmare of being surrounded by rumors all over again. you would ask the tall girl to give you a reason why, but you noticed that she was standing closer to you now, eyes darkened and very much drawing you in.

just like last time.

“for my eyes only.” wonyoung says quietly. she was referring to the painting, sure, but she was looking at you the entire time. the implication makes your face heat up, and suddenly you’re finding it hard to do anything else except to just stand there. obnoxiously close to wonyoung with your eyes constantly flickering up and down from her eyes to her lips. you remember what those lips taste like, how they feel moving against yours. what you would give to feel and taste them all over again.

“i need a break,” wonyoung’s gaze pierces through your own, inviting you in. “don’t you?”

and all it took was the slightest nod of your head for wonyoung to lock your lips in a searing kiss with her own.

god, it felt like your chest collapsed within itself. your hands immediately cup wonyoung’s cheeks, and having learned a few things from the last time you kissed her, you were much, much better at keeping up with her despite your heartbeat running a mile a minute. wonyoung’s own hands were on your hips, pulling you closer until she started undoing the ribbon on your uniform. then, she unbuttoned your shirt, forcing herself out of the kiss and putting her lips on your neck as she did so. it was hard trying to keep yourself quiet with the way wonyoung nibbled and softly sucked on your skin… which was why you just stopped trying.

“ahh… mhm, wonyoung…” your moans were met with a hum from the taller girl, whose kisses now reached your chest.

“you missed me, didn’t you?” wonyoung whispers against your skin, leaving a mark just below your collarbone where she likes it best. she tilts her head up, lips hovering over your own, only touching slightly. “you missed mommy?”

fuck, that was gonna do you in.

too embarrassed to truly admit it all, you nodded, which earned you a pout mixed with a glare from wonyoung. “i’m gonna let that go once. you’re lucky i missed you more.” eventually, you found your waist pressed against a lone desk while wonyoung continues to kiss you. you were topless now, what with wonyoung discarding your white shirt somewhere on the floor.

“w-what if ms. kim comes in…?” you asked when you felt wonyoung’s hand sliding up your thigh. surely she won’t be as careless as last time, right? the two of you were barely hiding! the curtains didn’t leave much to the imagination and the door was only halfway closed… if you weren’t careful with your mouth, some unlucky soul passing by will catch the two of you and you really don’t know if you can handle more of that. maybe you were naive to expect wonyoung to change within two weeks, because right after you asked your stupid little question, wonyoung had pulled down your panties and unclasped your bra from behind. goodness, she works fast.

the tall girl decided not to waste time and completely disregarded your question. “up.” she taps your hip, urging you to sit on top of the desk behind you. as you were getting yourself settled, wonyoung takes the opportunity to stare at you. you were as cute as ever—flushed cheeks, messy hair, lips quivering, and pretty eyes glossy with anticipation, even though you tried to disguise it with uncertainty. wonyoung couldn’t believe how easy it has been to knock down your defenses. she was so sure that even she, the jang wonyoung, was going to get rejected and embarrassed for the very first time in that library, given your reputation as a hardass.

but alas, she always gets what she wants in the end. as she should!

you pull wonyoung closer, eager to feel her lips on yours again. then she allows you to kiss her, doing the same exact thing as last time—staying still and letting you do what you want. wonyoung noticed that your kiss was softer, more careful. you were holding her face so gently, caressing her cheek with your thumb before letting your hands fall to her shoulders, giving the control back to her. it warmed her heart in a way that took her by surprise, but that was nothing compared to the pure amusement she felt when she caught you untying her ribbon.

“you’re brave today, hm?” wonyoung whispered with a smirk. she doesn’t stop you, though! she holds your stare as you let her ribbon drop to the ground, and then you start unbuttoning her shirt so excruciatingly slow. you stopped halfway through, only getting to see a little bit of wonyoung’s crimson red bra before putting your lips on her neck. and finally, for the first time, you heard her whimper.

you couldn’t see it as you were busy kissing her neck, but wonyoung was a blushing mess. she never whimpers! but with your sudden courage and the way you left the softest and sweetest kisses on her neck, wonyoung couldn’t hide it. “are you… marking me up?” wonyoung asked with a giggle.

immediately, you stopped, staring at her with half-widened eyes. “is that okay…?”

wonyoung would’ve called you stupid if the sound of her own loud heartbeat didn’t render her speechless. “don’t tell me you’re going to ask for permission if you so much as want to put your hand on my waist or something.” wonyoung said. she can imagine it clearly in her head, actually! you were too polite for your own good.

“well, consent is important—”

“yeah, yeah. how about you use that pretty mouth of yours for something worth my time, dummy?” wonyoung urges you to kiss her again, craning her neck to give you access. and you did it happily! you were so obviously excited that even wonyoung thought it was endearing, laughing lightly as you gently sucked on her soft skin. you did that for a while. how could you stop, anyway? the mix of wonyoung’s sighs, feeling her thin, dainty fingers smoothly threading your hair, and her other hand laying still on your thigh, squeezing ever so often when you do something she likes… well, suffice to say that it was almost impossible to stop.

leaning back, you stare at your work. the sight of your marks on wonyoung’s neck only made your core buzz, making you not-so-subtly close your legs. wonyoung regains her composure, eyes darkened once again before she forces her legs open, one hand slowly sliding deeper up your inner thighs while the other keeps your legs apart. “since you’ve had your fun… naturally, it’s my turn now, correct?” and of course you were nodding your head eagerly like an obedient pet, just how she likes it.

your breath gets caught in your throat when wonyoung cups one of your breasts in her hand, her face dangerously close to the other one, more than ready to pleasure you. “i was thinking of being nice since i missed you… but you made me upset with your stupid tantrum over the last time we fucked,” wonyoung feigns a smile and a shiver runs down your spine. “so, to truly make it up to me… you’re going to take  everything i’m giving to you today.”

scary. terrifying even, but how could you say no? the (y/n) of two hours ago would be really disappointed of you but fuck it. wonyoung’s got you wrapped around her finger once again and you’re going to let it happen again.

only moans escape your lips as wonyoung’s warm mouth closes around your nipple. a new sensation, and it was wonderful. you found yourself hugging wonyoung’s neck, pushing her face impossibly closer while she licked and sucked as she pleases. your cunt clenches around nothing, and you buck your hips slightly just to urge wonyoung to touch you down there even a little bit but you should’ve expected that she wouldn’t care about that. her hands were rather busy! one played with your other nipple while the other held your thigh in a grip so tight that it almost hurt.

wonyoung releases your nipple from her mouth, her lips now attacking your chest area with little bites. you weren’t opposed to it. in fact, the frustrated look on wonyoung’s face was a delight to see! “should’ve known you were going to be a pussy about it all… wouldn’t have waited up all night for your text if i did.” wonyoung tightens her grip on your thigh, making you wince. but the pain was quickly overshadowed by pleasure as the tall girl pulled on your nipple.

“how was i supposed to accept that you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore…? you were screaming my name so sweetly in the library… and i was in your head after all of that, right?” wonyoung briefly lets go of your thigh to pull your hair down, forcing you to meet her eyes. “i know you did… in the end, the campus’ smart goody-two-shoes is just a fucking slut in the making, isn’t she?”

wonyoung’s eyes shine with excitement upon seeing you look at her so desperately. she knew that you’d never take any insult if you were in your right mind… and it only turned her on when you said nothing to her, your head so clouded that you’d allow wonyoung to say anything she wants to you. the tall girl spreads your legs apart, staring at your glistening pussy before her hungry eyes pierce back into your own. “and to think that you wanted to leave when you’re all drenched like this! what would you have done if i let you go? surely not touch yourself,” wonyoung laughs, but it was a cold and mocking one. your cheeks flush with embarrassment since she was right—you can’t bear to touch yourself, which is why you’re so desperate to have her fuck you already. “you need me, and i want a pretty doll i can play with however i like. let’s help each other out, (y/n)-ah.”

wonyoung doesn’t wait for you to say anything (of course she doesn’t) and starts massaging your clit with her thumb. you gasped at the sensation, holding onto her arms and almost closing your legs up. you try to control your sounds this time around, all that left your mouth were the usual pathetic whimpering and panting but at least you weren’t loud! wonyoung didn’t like that, though. she presses her thumb harder against your clit, making you whine loudly. “that’s more like it.” the tall girl muttered under her breath. the longer she pleasured your clit, the sooner you were losing control of yourself. and eventually you were just giving into what your body wants—grinding against wonyoung’s hand, pulling her closer so you can kiss her…

you gasped sharply as wonyoung plunged her two fingers inside your cunt, and she was giggling at how you were wrinkling her shirt up due to how tight you were holding onto her. fuck did it feel good to be filled up. when wonyoung curls her long fingers inside you, you clamped your hand over your mouth, afraid of alerting anyone who may be lurking around. annoyed, wonyoung swats your hand away, “come on, i don’t want to punish you so early.” none of what she was saying went through to your head. and it wasn’t even because you were trying to be a disobedient brat but because of her pace.

she snaps her wrist with each thrust, enough to make sure that you feel every inch of her fingers inside you before pulling out. it was hard to focus on anything, even more so when wonyoung’s pretty brown eyes were raking all over your body, getting familiar with your features once again. it wasn’t everyday something catches her eye so easily, but when she entered that secluded room in the library and had the luxury of staring at you while you were asleep, she was charmed. not even she thought that she would have you on top of this table merely two weeks later—writhing under her touch and moaning her name, but wonyoung quite liked this outcome.

why, after you were so good for her the first time she fucked you, you’ve been on her mind!

“a-ah..! wonyoung…” your sweet voice snaps the tall girl back to reality. you’ve completely wrapped your arms around her neck now, how precious. wonyoung puts her lips to work, wanting to taste your skin once again. and that she does! giving you kisses from your cheek, to your jawline, to the crook of your neck and all that the way down to your chest. conveniently, the desk was long enough for wonyoung to be able to pull you down so you’d be lying back comfortably. she towers above you, a grin on her lips as she watches you try to hold on to your climax.

it was so glaringly obvious that you were close. with the way your walls clenched around wonyoung’s fingers, a few more thrusts should do it. and that made wonyoung way more upset than you can imagine. there was no way you were going to make this so short, right? but she feels it. not only have you dug your nails on her free wrist trying to hold onto her, you’ve also started whining very loudly. wonyoung, annoyed, wriggles out of your painful hold and shoves her thumb inside your mouth, effectively shutting you up. drool starts dripping down along your jawline—wonyoung wasn’t going to let you off easy judging by how she pressed her thumb flat and hard down on your tongue.

“we’re gonna make this last, baby,” wonyoung says. she sees the tears pooling in your eyes and it only makes her feel warm inside. she was getting so excited to have her way with you, and a few tears wouldn’t stop her. “and everyone’s going to know again. i know you don’t like that but this time… they’ll know you’re mine.”

wonyoung didn’t plan on saying that last part out loud but thankfully enough, you were way too busy moaning her name to even hear it. a knot tightens in your stomach and you gasp, the sensation becoming all too familiar with you now. wonyoung pulls her thumb out of your mouth and slowly slides a third finger inside your cunt—and then there it was.

“aww…” wonyoung cooed as you came all over her hand. but she doesn’t stop any of her movements. instead, she leans down, catching one of your nipples with her mouth and continuing on fingering you through your orgasm.

“f-fuck..! wonyoung, w-wait…!!” you clawed helplessly at her back. amidst your hopeless whining and moaning, wonyoung just giggles. her eyes flicker up to get a brief glance of your face, her own core clenching at how tight you’ve closed your eyes, how you’ve bitten your lower lip to the point of it hurting. she absolutely loved getting to see you undone piece by piece… even more so when you allow it to happen. which is what you finally do as you bury your hands in wonyoung’s hair, pushing her further down your chest and whimpering sweetly at every flick of her tongue on your nipples.

wonyoung wasn’t letting her hand rest, however. she keeps fingering you in a semi-fast pace, hoping to edge you closer to another orgasm. clearly, she was taking advantage of your dazed state and in all honesty, of her own adrenaline-driven state. in her right mind, she would have let you cum the first time and stop there since she knew you can’t handle too much of what she can really give you but god… wonyoung just has to see you fall apart completely under her.

“someone learned a few things from last time, hm?” wonyoung teased as she gently massaged your clit in circles with her thumb. “you’re taking it so well. good.”

you gasped loudly as she plunges her fingers knuckle-deep inside your walls again, now thrusting faster than ever. wonyoung completely gets lost at the feeling of your warmth around her fingers. with her towering above you, she was distracting enough for your mind to wander elsewhere. every so often you’d notice the way she slightly bit her lower lip, whimper quietly, and huff as she fucked you… and as your eyes trail down lower (as low as you could, anyway), you saw that the tall girl had been clenching her thighs together. gods, wonyoung looked so hot being desperate like this.

it made you blush, how much she wanted to feel as good as she was making you feel good. next time, you are going to make sure to return the favor. it was what she deserves, as much of a pain in the ass she was.

“are you okay, (y/n)…?” wonyoung, concerned that you have spaced out, asked. her thrusts have slowed and her eyes are now softer.

you nodded meekly, “yes, mommy.” the nickname slipped out so naturally that it caught wonyoung off guard. and was she… blushing? flustered, even?

(wonyoung wouldn’t even know where to start if someone were to ask about the hold you have on her. it almost sucks that you don’t know about it, but wonyoung’s pride wouldn’t let her admit it outright. not yet, anyway.)

“we’re almost done.” wonyoung regains her composure. she completely pins one of your wrists down with her free hand, the other ramming inside your walls out of control, and her forehead nearly touching yours while you moaned helplessly. with your one hand, you clutched the edge of the desk, refusing to hurt wonyoung any further because you knew you would make her blood had you decided to hold onto her with the way she was abusing your pussy. wonyoung chuckles slightly at how smoothly her fingers went in and out of you—her hand was completely drenched in your cum and wetness. she was practically drooling at the thought of getting to taste you.

wonyoung would rather do it from the source, but she knew you wouldn’t be able to handle her mouth. not at this state. and not with all the things she wants to do to you with her tongue alone.

she feels you clenching around her again, and she watches as tears squeeze out of your eyes. she kisses them away, whispering some comforting words in your ear before she thrusts her fingers knuckle-deep inside you. wonyoung intertwines your fingers since she knew you’d need it as you came all over her hand once again. unlike last time, wonyoung makes sure her hand is still, only pulling out as you’ve started to calm down a little. your eyes wandered all over the ceiling, still trying to get a sense of things. you could feel wonyoung’s eyes on you though, but you couldn’t tell what she was doing.

so ‘surprised’ would be an understatement when you feel her clothed, wet cunt pressed against your knee. wonyoung smiles bashfully as she slightly grinds her clit on your knee. hell, she nearly fucked you into unconsciousness—she shouldn’t have anything to be afraid of doing now. even if she has to become this spectacle for you.

“j-just need to… do something about this.” wonyoung says. her voice was a bit higher from her whines, obviously feeling so good that she can’t help but show this new side of herself. underneath her, you were a bit rattled but completely flustered and quite confused as to what you should do. not that you could do anything, anyway. you couldn’t really feel your legs and your head was still getting itself situated. you were basically watching wonyoung grind herself into you… and it was heaven.

wonyoung meets your stare and grins, “liking the show, babe?” she teased. she giggled when you covered your face with your other hand, you were so red. but you were brazen enough to raise your knee slightly and pressed it against her clit, making her moan out loud for the first time. a smile of satisfaction spreads on your face—you finally heard wonyoung make that kind of sound!

“cheeky little doll.” wonyoung says before leaning down and kissing you. she stops her grinding, having had enough for now and slowly pulls you to sit up, carefully.

much like the last time this happened, nothing much was said afterwards. you were merely hugging wonyoung while you recovered, and you’d smile every time you felt her leave feathery-light kisses across your shoulder and draw random circles on your lower back. wonyoung allowed you to hold her for as long as you needed, never worrying about how the sky has turned orange or the supposed project she was assigned to start today for ms. kim. a gust of wind seeps through the slightly open windows and you shiver. 

finally, wonyoung pulled away. “let’s get you dressed up. ms. kim should be on her way anyway.” she helps you stand on both feet and picks up the random pieces of clothing scattered around the area, almost scolding herself for throwing them around haphazardly. wonyoung was the one who buttons up your shirt, makes sure your skirt is all nice and tidy, ties up your ribbon perfectly, and styles your hair as if it was never a mess. and then she decides that you would look cute with a bit of lip tint—but also because you needed a good excuse to give people if they so happen to ask you why your lips were so red and fucked up.

you stayed still as wonyoung dolled you up. it was strange though, because at this point, she has fucked you three times and you’ve bravely looked at her in the eye then but now you can’t. every time her eyes flicker over to yours, you blink and set them elsewhere. you can’t tell her about how your pussy clenches under her gaze. you can’t tell her that if she does something so simple as this, helping a fellow girl to look presentable, it turns you on. and it probably wasn’t even because nice-and-friendly wonyoung was a rarity! it was because of that damn crush. and how you can still feel her hands all over you but ugh, you’re so tired of coming to that conclusion. 

you get it: you are morbidly obsessed with how wonyoung makes you feel! god, can i be any more pathetic?

“you’ll text me this time, right?” wonyoung asks after she is done. she has also gotten herself look as perfect as she always does. 

“i can’t exactly escape you now, can i?”

“mhm! glad you’re aware of that.” wonyoung puts on an exaggerated smile, but really, she was excited. 

you then pulled out your phone and sent wonyoung a simple ‘hi’ text message. “there. happy?” you mimicked her fake smile.

“ecstatic, actually.” wonyoung replied with a straight face as she stared blankly at your useless message. she saves your number and suddenly snaps a quick photo of you without warning, setting it as her contact photo for you. when you tried to sneak a peek, wonyoung moved away from you with a laugh, and saved your name as ‘dum’ on her phone, even waving it all over your face and laughing even more at your disgruntled reaction. how mature… and endearing.

when silence started to fill the air, you almost wanted to ask wonyoung a few things about this whole… thing. whatever it was. as much as you liked the whole doll talk earlier, you didn’t exactly understand it. were the two of you going to be friends-with-benefits now? well, more like barely-acquaintances-with-benefits. was wonyoung going to make a habit of cornering you at some isolated place and fuck you? because really, you‘d prefer a small warning before she starts using you. confused as you were, you didn’t let a word slip. you just stood there, watching wonyoung as she put up an empty canvas on the easel.

“is it okay if i rest for a bit before leaving?” you asked in a quiet voice. wonyoung nods as she pulls her hair up for a half-ponytail, only briefly looking at your figure as you walk past her to sit on the instructor’s chair at the front of the classroom.

“i’d insist on taking you home but you seem to adore public transportation.” wonyoung quipped from behind her canvas.

“you’d only find some excuse to touch me again in your car so yes, maybe i prefer taking the bus rather than that.” you replied. attempting to avoid thinking about wonyoung’s hands all over you while you sat on the passenger seat of her car was futile, thank goodness she was focused on whatever project she was working on.

“thanks for the idea.” oh you just knew wonyoung had a stupid smile on her face thinking about it all. that pervert!

although you would be lying if you said you weren’t into the idea, but that was something the two of you should save for much, much later.

for the rest of your time there, you merely sat on ms. kim’s chair. sometimes you watched wonyoung even though you couldn’t see much of her face. occasionally, however, she would peek from above the canvas to check on you and you wouldn’t look away like you usually would. you would hold her gaze, smiling softly before gazing at the setting sun outside. the only thing that was on your mind was how everything has changed now. whether it was for the better or for worse, you couldn’t tell yet.

there was no use dwelling on it. you simply have to see where things go. one thing was for sure though: jang wonyoung wasn’t going to be out of your life so easily.

you pondered on that chair for a while before you finally decided to leave. you promised wonyoung that you would text her as soon as you got home, and you knew that even though she barely gave you a glance since she was so focused, she was happy that you promised that. while you headed for the door, you felt wonyoung’s eyes follow you until you were completely gone. but even as you walked through the empty hallways once again the hair on the back of your neck stood on end and you found yourself stopping in your tracks completely on top of a flight of stairs.

“that… really all just happened. again.” you mumbled. ugh, your ears felt hot. your cheeks too. matter of fact, your entire body was just warm.

“what happened?” a chipper voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin. ms. kim has suddenly appeared beside you. you hadn’t noticed that she was already there when you turned to the corner.

“o-oh! ms. kim, hello,” you greeted, hand clutching your chest. “ah, right. i dropped off your lunch bag. ms. lim said you forgot it earlier.”

“really? thank you, (y/n). she must be very busy if she couldn’t visit me herself. i’ll make sure to tell her that you did well delivering my food.” the art teacher pats your shoulder. her smile was striking and infectious—no wonder ms. lim always looked so lovesick around her!

“no need. it’s no problem at all,” you glanced at the giant clock on the other side of the wall and felt panic rise from the bottom of your stomach. “my bus should be making its way to the stop now. have a good day, ms. kim!” and so you were off to running as fast as you could to catch your ride, leaving the art teacher baffled but quite amused at the stairs.

“never seen (y/n) a bit loose in the head like that before.”

inside the art room, wonyoung has gotten busy. the tiniest specks of paint decorated her face, her hands had become quite the mess but what mattered was the picture she was creating. she was quite surprised with herself. only earlier did she feel that familiar rush of creating something with efficiency—when she was painting you. she was feeling it again, and it was great. it has been quite some time before she felt that rush. as rich her mind was with concepts, wonyoung found it hard to materialize them in a painting for some reason. maybe she was just lazy. maybe the pictures in her head just weren’t clear enough.

but somehow you of all people—of all things, really—made it all so very clear.

“ah, the things a good pussy does to the human mind.” wonyoung laughs at her own words. she couldn’t wait to bother you all night long later.

“i knew it!”

once again, ms. kim has surprised a student. fortunately enough, wonyoung didn’t make a mistake and only flinched slightly. “hello, ms. kim.” the tall girl greeted. she doesn’t take her eyes off her canvas since she knew that the teacher was already sauntering towards her with that contagious energy she always has.

“wow. i half expected you to be struggling for inspiration as usual but you actually got somewhere!” ms. kim pats wonyoung’s head, very much satisfied at wonyoung’s progress with her work. oddly enough, wonyoung found herself blushing deeply letting ms. kim look at a personal piece from her so freely. not that she gave a fuck about keeping up her reputation even with the teachers, but jang wonyoung was nothing if not so stubbornly prideful.

because no! she cannot bear being teased about painting (y/n) (l/n) for the second time in the same day!

“is that…”

wonyoung’s blush get deeper. here it comes.

“she did say she came by this room… i see!” ms. kim laughs and nudges wonyoung’s arm, teasing the girl as if she was some kid who was having a crush for the first time in her life. incorrect, by the way! because jang wonyoung doesn’t do crushes. 

the art teacher leans back and allows herself to fully take in her student’s work. it was a beautiful painting of you, surrounded by orange and yellow colors, looking lost in thought as you gazed out the window. your face was slightly obscured by the curtain, similar to the previous painting of you that she has done. perhaps a clue as to how wonyoung truly sees you.

“never thought you’d want a muse, wonyoung! but she’s not just that, is she?”

wonyoung settles her palette and paintbrush on an empty stool, exhaling and stretching her sore shoulders. now, she wasn’t the one getting fucked but damn, did you exhaust her too! it was in the good way at least, so wonyoung can’t really be mad at you. with you in her sick little head, wonyoung offers a mischievous smile to her teacher, “my cute little secret is what she is.”

#ive smut #ive x reader #ive imagines #ive x fem reader #ive scenarios #jang wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung x fem reader #jang wonyoung imagines #jang wonyoung scenarios #wonyoung smut #wonyoung x reader #wonyoung imagines #wonyoung x fem reader #wonyoung scenarios #girl group x reader #girl group imagines #girl group smut #girl group scenarios #girl group x fem reader

[delulujuls]

young, dumb & bwoke | ln4

hi! as u can see i couldn't stop myself from writing about last saturday events in amsterdam with mr norris as main star (he was more popular than the king himself lmao). lando is literally what i always bring to the function and yup, enjoy him being the chaotic drunk bestie while max and y/n are his literal party parents. its nothing crazy and without plot basically, i just added sum to this years' koningsdag so yeah, enjoy!

summary: there is nothing that lando loves more than a good party and his beloved dutch friends so imagine him with drink in his cup surrounded by whole orange nation. it could be nuts and it was

warnings: TONS of alcohol, lando being drunk (and hurted), mentions of blood, basically sum chaos

pairing: fem!dutch!bff!reader x lando norris (ft. max verstappen)

Lando couldn't wait for the plane he was on to break through the heavy cloud cover and land in Amsterdam.

China and Miami, which were the next rounds on the calendar, were separated by two weeks that were nothing else, in Lando's case, than a time of stagnation. Add to this the fact that Lando had bad memories of his performance in China and, what's worse, the sprint he failed so badly and which constantly played in his head like a jammed record, one could go crazy. That's why the Brit was extremely happy when he received an invitation to spend the weekend in the capital of the Netherlands. He was invited to Amsterdam to celebrate King Willem's birthday by none other than his favorite flying Dutch.

The friendship of Y/N, Max and Lando began in 2019, practically from the very moment he entered Formula 1. The kid, who was barely 20 years old but looked like 12, immediately won over the Dutch couple with his smile and sense of humor, who, due to their sometimes severe temperament, could not boast of having many friends in the paddock. Even though the three friends were only two years apart, Max and Y/N naturally became Lando's racing parents, with whom the Brit spent practically every moment, from time in the paddock, through celebrating on the podium, to time away from competitions. So it was no surprise when they invited him to spend the weekend together, to which he, of course, eagerly agreed.

When the plane landed, Lando pulled the hood of his orange sweatshirt over his head and slung his backpack over his shoulder, in which he packed everything he might need for the coming days. As you could guess, there wasn't much of it, he actually had everything he needed on him and the most important part was an oversized orange sweatshirt. Waiting for him at the airport was Y/N, who couldn't wait to see him. She didn't have to wait too long, because a moment later he walked out in front of the terminal. Y/N smiled as she saw her friend walking towards her and she hugged him tightly.

"You knew I was coming, you could have asked the king for better weather," Lando joked, trying to sound serious, which only made the girl giggle.

"If you think that the weather will have any influence on what will happen in the evening, then unfortunately I will have to disappoint you," she replied, getting into the car. "It's already starting to get crowded in downtown, and it's not even noon."

Lando threw his backpack into the backseat and got into the passenger side. He smiled like a child, looking forward to how the weekend would unfold. It looked like he would spend a nice few days, able to finally de-stress and relax, and in the company of friends. But speaking of friends, one of them was missing.

"And where's Max?" he asked as they left the airport and were on their way to the girl's apartment. "I thought he had been waiting for me with the welcome committee since yesterday."

"He's already in town, I dropped him off while I was on my way to pick you up."

"He's fast," Lando laughed and shook his head, "I hope he's still on his feet when we get to him."

At that moment, Lando didn't think about the fact that no one else but himself would be able to stay on his feet. When the Brit set off for Amsterdam, he obviously expected to spend two days drunk, with legs sore from dancing and a sore throat from singing, but he forgot that he has absolutely no immunity to alcohol.

When the three friends were finally together, alcohol quickly appeared in their hands. Y/N and Max started with beer, but Lando had no intention of wasting his time drinking something that would only cause pressure on his bladder. As soon as he boarded one of the barges floating on the Herenbracht Canal, he drank several shots at once. Y/N and Max just exchanged glances as he drank the drink standing on Garrix's console in one gulp, who didn't care one bit about it, being already in a good mood himself.

"I'm a little worried about how this might end," Max said in her ear as she took a sip of her cider, watching Lando jump happily.

"Even if he's drunk, so what," she replied, handing him her bottle and taking away the body paints in circulation, "He didn't come here to be bored."

Max was about to say something, but she pushed his hand slightly, bringing the bottle he was holding to his lips. Max shook his head and took a few sips from it, while the girl started painting flags on his cheeks. When she finished, she waved them up, attracting Lando's attention, who understood what she meant and nodded eagerly. The girl squeezed through the console and stood next to him, leaning him against the barge rails, because Lando had trouble not bobbing to the music for a moment.

The smile that never left his face wrinkled his cheeks, on which she tried to paint Dutch flags. When she finished and turned to pass the paints, Lando took off her sunglasses and put them on himself.

"Have a drink with me!" Lando shouted, holding out his empty cup to her, and she raised her cider bottle in response. He rolled his eyes in dissatisfaction when suddenly a bottle of vodka appeared in the crowd and someone handed it straight to his hands. Without much thought, Lando unscrewed the cap and took a few sips as if the contents were water, which of course met with the crowd's approval.

Y/N took the bottle from his hands, fearing not the amount Lando drank, but the relatively short time it took him to do so. However, not wanting to seem boring, she tilted the bottle herself, letting the liquid burn her throat. Delighted, Lando clapped his hands and hugged his friend, causing some of the alcohol to flow down her chin. She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist as well, and raised her hand in a toast, which was joined by everyone who had something to drink.

Max also raised his beer bottle a bit. However, somewhere in the background of his mind there was an image of Lando and what he would look like in the near future. However, the Brit himself did not care at all about this. As long as he was in the company of his friends, his plastic cup was full and he could jump to the music and sing along, he was happy. Even the fact that his face was in the wrong place at the wrong time, when someone, completely by accident, punched him in the face, didn't disturb it.

Y/N, who also decided to pick up the pace after drinking her cider, immediately sobered up when she saw blood on her friend's face. She quickly pressed a tissue to his nose, but he tried to assure her that he was fine. His brain didn't encode the impact or the pain, didn't acknowledge that he was bleeding, even when he ran his tongue over his lips and tasted blood on them. People in the crowd started calling out to each other to see if anyone had a first aid kit. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a bandage appeared, and just as Y/N, being drunk, thought it would be a great idea to wrap Lando's face in a bandage, Max started asking people if they somehow had band aids. He couldn't let that dumbass parade around like that for the rest of the evening.

“I've sobered up a bit, I can keep drinking,” he said as Y/N finished clumsily bandaging his face, “I probably look worse that i did when i crashed in Vegas.”

Her friend tried to be serious, but it was impossible to stay serious around Lando. "You have to be careful, Lan," she said, trying to retain some sanity and touching his cheek, looking into his eyes, "I hope it's not broken."

"Bwoken," he repeated in silly voice, giggling "Oh no, it couldn't be bwoken"

"Honestly, i also hope it is not," Max interjected when he managed to rejoin his friends after some time, "Getting to the hospital now would be a near miracle."

"Hey, I'm fine," he said as Max waved the Band-Aids in his face and began to remove the clumsy bandage into which their friend had probably poured her whole heart and a few drinks that she drank earlier.

"I'm glad you don't feel anything, but that doesn't change the fact that I won't look at it," he replied, lifting his chin and examining his nose from every angle. Luckily this one seemed fine.

Once Max had placed two tiny patches on him, Y/N handed him his mug with a fresh drink again. "Brave patient," she smiled at him.

"In a state like this, I'd be surprised if he felt something," Max admitted, taking a bottle of vodka standing nearby. He decided that since Lando had had an accident, nothing worse awaited them and he could allow himself to loosen a bit more. He took a few sips and handed the bottle to the younger one, who smiled, tightening his hand around it. He looked at his friends standing in front of him, slightly drunk but still fully focused on him. He knew he was important to them and that he is not alone in all this madness.

"I love you guys," he said, with a bottle in his hand, pushing himself off the railing and hugging them, "You are the best in the world, simply the best."

The rest of the day and later in the evening took place in a great atmosphere and the party lasted until 3. in the morning. For the rest of Amsterdam it probably lasted longer, but for Lando it began to end after two o'clock, when he was barely able to stand. Partly from being drunk, partly from being tired. He didn't stand still during a single song, so the next day, apart from his face, his legs will certainly be visible. Taking a break for something warm to eat, Max, Y/N, and Lando sat down at one of the wooden tables. While waiting for their orders, Lando rested his head on Y/N's shoulder and closed his eyes. It was obvious that he just needed something to lean on to fall asleep.

"I think it's time for us to go," the girl announced, directing her words to Max. "The baby is only fit for bed now."

"He's been in great shape for a long time anyway, judging by how much he was on his feet today," Max concluded, glancing first at him and then at the girl, "But you're holding up pretty well, aren't you?"

"Yes, I do," she nodded and hugged Lando, who began to slide off her shoulder, "But I'm also getting sleepy."

"Me too," Max rubbed his face with his hands, "At least we can be sure that no one will wake us up first thing in the morning to explore the city."

He said, glancing at Lando, who was dozing with his mouth open on his friend's shoulder. After eating casseroles and fries, which were for Lando and which he was unable to eat, the three of them went to the girl's apartment. Of course, only she and Max were walking on their own, Lando was between them, leaning on their arms. He was muttering something incomprehensible under his breath, so it was obvious that he was alive and everything was fine, besides the fact that he was completely drunk.

When they arrived at the address and crossed the threshold of the apartment, they immediately went to put him in the bedroom, not wasting time in unfolding the couch for him. Max was in the process of stripping him of his shoes, pants, bloody sweatshirt, and all the necklaces and ribbons he had collected the previous day, while Y/N placed a large bottle of water, painkillers, and a bucket by his bed, as if the contents of his stomach had suddenly decided that they wants to get outside. However, there was no indication that Lando was going to have a restless night, because he started snoring softly as soon as his cheek touched the pillow. Max covered him with the blanket and took a few steps away from the bed, standing next to his friend who was looking at the sleeping boy.

"Can you hear that?" Max whispered, glancing at her, and she frowned questioningly, "It's silence, listen to it, because when he gets up, the only thing you can hear will be his lamentations about how hungover he is."

The girl snorted quietly and shook her head, taking Lando's clothes to the laundry.

"The most important thing is that he had a good time. And a little hangover never killed nobody."

The next day, however, did not bring anything unexpected. When Lando woke up, the first thing that hit him was a terrible headache that got worse when he sat down and tried to get out of bed. When he stood in the doorway of the bedroom, Y/N and Max's eyes immediately went towards him and Lando could swear that they looked like they spent the entire last evening on the couch.

"Hi honey, did you sleep well?" Max asked playfully, in the perfect mood for jokes since he himself was fine after last night.

Lando just blinked several times and wanted to wipe his face with his hands and collect some words to answer, but when he touched his cut nose, he cursed loudly.

"What the fuck?"

"A souvenir from yesterday," the girl answered him, getting up from the couch and taking out a frozen package from the fridge, which she handed to him, "I recommend a shower and I'll make you some coffee."

He closed his eyes and put the package to his nose, sighing and grabbing the bathroom door handle. Before he disappeared, Max just shouted after him.

"And don't puke in the shower!"

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #max verstappen #mv1 #mv33 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you

[slyscoutess]

paring: sebastian vettel x fem!singer!reader summary: pilots should learn not to comment on their favorite artists . . . or maybe this is their tactic to get what they want writer: the oldest thing in my drafts, it clearly had to be my first passion in formula 1, one of the reasons I liked watching it, listening to Florence + The Machine, I just wanted to leave my love for sebs on record

liked by sebastianvettel, jessalexander, christinanadin and 4.636.585 others

yourusername I came for the pleasure, but I stay for the pain . . . New album DANCE FEVER. Out April 19 💙

store.yourname.com

📷: alvarezcamila

view all 32.075 comments

yournameupdate MOTHER IS BACK!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL

ynlnthinker EVERYBODY AND THEIR CHILD FREAKING RIGHT NOW

ynlnandthesiix not her coming back after years with new music and pretending to be normal

vettelchild somebody please check on sebs, i think the man is dead right about now

leclerccough just saw sebastian vettel himself in the likes, she posted it like 2 min ago???

patitowifey father is a hardcore fan just like us fr carlandomind I didn't even know he had Instagram??? pastryf2piastri pretty sure is a fanpage, there is nothing published yet

yournamecuunt Rumors of her divorce emerged in 2020 and she disappeared from the map and now appears with an album out of nowhere

andthesixburner queen behaviour???

liked by vertappwifey,rosinglovers, vettelbabs and 8.585 others

lovingwags New wag in the paddock?

seen at the Australian GP with some friends and members of the band that makes up her shows and team, yn ln was present at the Australian GP, ​​we cannot confirm which garage she was in, but I think we all have a certain hope of one in specific ( Sebastian please makes us proud

view all 475 comments

strollmothering That one blueyfever on twitter beign right all along

blueyfever OF COURSE I FCKING WAS formulaonfacts CAN'T FREAKING BELIEVE IT

ynthinker SCREAMING, CRYING AND THROWING UUUP

minivettel5 This woman is a freaking goddess

vettelhamm Sebastian must be just killing himself right about now

33tororoso Do we, Sebastian Vettel's children, finally have a mother?

maziemillian Isn't he like . . . married? blueyfever yeah! to her!!!! formulaonfacts okay grandma let's get you back to bed

whatamaxemmil I can't wait for blueyfever to be right

liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc, lovingwags and 6.569.019 others

yourusername for years and years the words you didn't let me write suffocated me, the art you never let me see blinded me, the places you left me humiliated me, but finally my Graceland gained a different meaning and I'm no longer stuck in the bathroom with the same headache, everything you wanted from me didn't belong to you and I finally found someone who would give me the pen and not cut out my tongue, all my love, my affection, my future and my choices belong to him.

Because of him I have Dance Fever every night.

DANCE FEVER is yours to listen now.

view all 48.371 comments

yournameupdate OMG IS THAT????

ynlnthinker THAT IS SEBASTIAN VETTEL HIMSELF

vettelmemes OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

vettelchild WHAT DOES THIS MEAAAAAAN

formulaonfacts BLUEY WAS RIGHT WT???

lecfosi BLUEY THE OLDER WISER SIBLING charles_leclerc no? that would be me maxverstappen1 you are neither charles_leclerc I am her favorite lance_stroll keep dreaming

yournamecuunt the grid competing more for her mother's love than for the world championship

georgerussell63 You haven't seen them in person.

sebastianvettel posted a new video.

liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc, lovingwags and 6.569.019 others

yourusername It's been three years and a pandemic of an intense creative process, four years of silently recording every movement of my life until dance fever came to me and was finally delivered to you, four years surrounded by incredible people, and as a thank you for me Wait patiently over the last four years, I'll be sharing a little of what I've been going through.

the Dance Fever bts is now on YouTube, I'm sorry for the length, it's been four years of recording.

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charles_leclerc it's 2 in the mornig

yourusername and why aren't you sleeping, pretty sure already put you in bed?

maxverstappen1 I just stopped my sim race to watch something I basically live? yeah

vettelchild my god the amount of content from yn and sebastian, now I have diabetes and i'm still at 2019, they weren't even dating

lecsainzfosi wait . . . WHAT?

lance_stroll I will assume you got to 2020 and 2021 charles_leclerc often sleep on the sofa in their house during these landonorris you and practically everyone on the grid, even Lewlew charles_leclerc yeah but i am her favorite lance_stroll still on this?

yournamecuunt Now that you are intertwined in the world of F1, do you think Lance should just leave?

yourusername Hell no, that is my child, giving my life for him to be happy, never did anything wrong, will never do , everyone who complains about him just wants to make noise and distractions and isn't worrying about the race tsunodaaaa on my way to make a fanpage for this mother and son duo

The soft tendrils of dawn's first light seeped through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow upon the tranquil morning. Sebastian, now retired from the racing circuit, still grappled with the novelty of no longer being tethered to the demanding schedules of tracks worldwide. Yet, awakening beside his wife, cocooned in the serenity of their home, provided a deeply soothing sense of contentment.

As Sebastian nestled closer to his beloved, he could feel her gentle warmth radiating beside him. She slept peacefully, her worries and the frenetic pace of everyday life momentarily suspended. Ever since Bee came into their lives, their nights had become a balancing act between tending to their child's needs and stealing moments of rest. But on this particular night, they had slept deeply, as though replenishing themselves from an extended bout of weariness.

Her locks cascaded like silken waves over the pillow, delicately shrouding her serene countenance. The soft curves of her features bespoke the tranquility she had discovered in that fleeting moment of repose. A fond smile tugged at Sebastian's lips as he recalled the countless nights spent awake with her, cradling her in his arms as she delved into the depths of her creative musings. The restorative embrace of a full night's sleep had invigorated Sebastian. He savored a newfound sense of peace and autonomy, a luxury he hadn't known since bidding farewell to the adrenaline-fueled world of racing. Now, he could devote more of himself to his growing family, witnessing Bee's milestones and relishing in the simple joys of marital companionship.

As the world beyond their bedroom gradually stirred to life, the couple remained ensconced in their private sanctuary. Yet, the tranquil ambiance was momentarily shattered by the soft whimper of Bee, captured by the electronic monitor stationed nearby. With a reluctant sigh, Sebastian's wife stirred beside him, bidding farewell to the depths of slumber.

"Sebastian, your daughter wake up . . .", she groaned, as Bee's gentle cry pierced the stillness of the morning, the woman instinctively buried her face into her husband's chest, seeking refuge from the beckoning call of their daughter. Her soft sobs muffled against the warmth of his embrace, a silent plea for a few more moments of respite.

Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle softly at his wife's playful attempt to evade the inevitable. With a tender affection, he ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her frazzled nerves with each gentle stroke. Her muffled laughter reverberated against his chest, a testament to the enduring bond they shared, even amidst the chaos of parenthood. As Bee's cries persisted, Sebastian's wife reluctantly peeled herself away from the sanctuary of his embrace, a resigned smile tugging at the corners of her lips. With a loving glance exchanged between them, they silently acknowledged the shared journey of parenthood, filled with its moments of exhaustion and boundless love. With a whispered promise to return, Sebastian's wife slipped out of bed, ready to embrace the day and tend to their beloved daughter.

As the soft hues of morning bathed the room, casting a gentle glow upon their cozy sanctuary, the woman returned, cradling their precious Bee in her arms. Each step she took seemed to echo with the tender rhythm of maternal love, her eyes alight with a serene radiance that mirrored the dawn's gentle embrace.

Sebastian's heart swelled with affection as he watched his wife approach, the ethereal beauty of motherhood emanating from her every movement. With each delicate sway, Bee stirred slightly in her mother's arms, her angelic face still adorned with the remnants of sleep. As his wife drew nearer, Sebastian's eyes sparkled with an unwavering adoration, a silent testament to the profound love he held for both his wife and their darling daughter. In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the tender bond that bound their family together.

Bee, with her tiny hands outstretched, reached eagerly for her father, her sleepy gaze melting hearts with its innocence. Sebastian's heart skipped a beat as he eagerly scooped her up, enveloping her in a warm embrace that radiated with paternal love. With a contented sigh, his lover gently lowered Bee onto the bed, where the little one wobbled unsteadily before finding her footing. With a gleeful giggle, Bee propelled herself into her father's waiting arms, her laughter filling the room with its infectious melody. Sebastian's heart swelled with pride as he cradled their daughter close, showering her with affectionate kisses that elicited a chorus of delighted squeals. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of their love, Sebastian's wife couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the family they had created together.

As she reclined on the bed, a gentle hand instinctively drifted to her burgeoning belly, where new life stirred with the promise of tomorrow. With each fluttering kick, her heart overflowed with anticipation, a silent prayer whispered for the blessings that lay ahead.

In the tranquil embrace of their shared love, Sebastian's wife felt as though she had finally found her own personal Graceland—a haven of warmth, purity, and boundless affection. And as the laughter of her husband and daughter echoed through the room, she knew that their home would forever be filled with the sweet symphony of love's enduring melody.

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, lovingwags and 569.019 others

sebastianvettel My Dearest,

As I sit down to write these words, I find myself immersed in thoughts of you, my heart overflowing with emotions that words alone cannot fully capture. Each day spent by your side feels like ascending to a throne, where you reign as my sovereign, my King. Your presence in my life has granted me a sense of liberation, a feeling of being truly Free from the constraints of the past.

Our journey together has been a whirlwind of joy and passion, a dance of souls caught in the frenzy of love. In your arms, I've discovered a rhythm unlike any other, a Choreomania that consumes us, leaving us breathless yet exhilarated. Whenever I find myself away from you, it's as if I've returned to familiar grounds, back in the embrace of a familiar town. You are my anchor, my sanctuary, my safe haven — a feeling encapsulated in the phrase Back In Town.

Together, we stand united against the odds, defying conventions and societal norms. We are rebels, fighters, Girls Against God in a world that seeks to confine us. In the depths of night, you are my beautiful paradox, my Dream Girl Evil. Your essence is both enchanting and mysterious, a captivating blend that keeps me endlessly intrigued.

Within the walls of our home, our love becomes a sanctuary, a Prayer Factory where we offer our hearts and souls in devotion to each other. It is here, in the sacred space we've created, that I find solace and strength. You possess a wisdom and insight that transcends time, a gift akin to that of the mythical Cassandra. Your intuition guides me, leading me towards a future filled with hope and promise.

In your arms, I've found my heaven, my nirvana — for Heaven is Here, whenever I'm with you. Your presence alone is enough to transform the ordinary into something extraordinary, turning mundane moments into memories I'll cherish forever. Your smile, like a radiant daffodil in a field of blooms, brings light and warmth to even the darkest of days. With you, each moment becomes a celebration of life, a testament to the beauty of love.

My love for you knows no bounds, transcending the limits of time and space. You are my guiding star illuminating the path before me with your boundless affection. Even in moments of separation, I exercise restraint, longing to hold you close yet savoring the anticipation of our reunion. Distance may test us, but it only serves to deepen my love for you, fortifying the bond we share.

Together, we are a force to be reckoned with, a Bomb waiting to explode with passion and desire. In your arms, I find solace, security, and an overwhelming sense of belonging. You are my muse, my inspiration, my Mermaid of the depths. Your allure is irresistible, drawing me in with your ethereal beauty and grace.

My dearest, these words pale in comparison to the depth of my affection for you. You are the beating heart of my existence, the light that guides me through the darkness.

With all my love,

Sebastian

tagged: yourusername

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charles_leclerc alright gonna wrap it up, never gonna be this kind of romantic

carlossainz55 not even shakespere thought about writing something like that, mate

maxverstappen1 When will it be my turn?

kellypiquet what? maxverstappen1 when will it be my turn to be this romantic

lance_stroll MAMA AND PAPA

fernandoalo_oficial beautiful letter, really big, not gonna read but it's wonderful

jensonbutton I've never seen anyone who had so much to say, my god lewishamilton stole all the romance of the century landonorris That's why we live in the century of whoredom

yournamecuunt DID HE JUST MAKE A LETTER WITH ALL HER SONGS IN ORDER?

aussiegrit he's crazy romantic sentimental like that

motheryourname why hasn't yourusername commented yet?

lance_stroll She's here crying like hell at Sebs' farewell party alex_albon She's been really emotional today, with the party and everything. landonorris It's the hormones of this new pregnancy ynthinker THE WHAT sebastianvettel Lando??? yourusername FOR FUCKS SAKE landonorris sorry, sorry SORRY MOTHER

#🍂 - slyscountess smau #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x you #sebastian vettel #sv5 #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel fic #sebastian vettel fluff #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #sebastian vettel x female reader #sebastian vettel x y/n #scuderia ferrari #sebastian vettel one shot

[archerinventive]

“There is always light. If only we’re brave enough to see it. If only we’re brave enough to be it.” -Amanda Gorman

One of my favorite photos from the WNDR event last year with the Knights of Loreamour.

I highly recommend checking out the museum in downtown Seattle sometime if you're able. :)

#wndr museum #wndr medieval faire #knights of loreamour #wa knights #seattle #lady knight #dame #sword #fantasy #dame archer #archerinventive #amanda gorman

[munsonsfairy]

I have an ideaaa

how about a Paige x fem!reader wedding/proposal fic or headcanon??

the idea of her draft fit as a wedding outfit omfg 🤭

🪞🏹🕯️🌿 MY PEACE • PAIGE BUECKERS

omg i love this idea!!! i did wedding headcanons if that’s okay!! <3

content: fem reader & no physical description of reader or their wedding outfit

౨ৎ the night before, you and paige spend it by cuddling into each other while sitting on the balcony that overlooks the city.

“my wife, my wife, mine,” she whispers against your neck after every kiss. “not for another day, babe,” you’ve been reminding her since she proposed.

౨ৎ it takes her 20 minutes to leave your townhouse that night. lots of goodbye kisses have already happened that it took kk & ice to drag her ass out.

“bye my beautiful gorgeous wife!” paige yells out the window as ice drives away. she doesn’t get into the car until you are out of her sight.

౨ৎ instead of reading your vows in front of your wedding guests, the both of you decided to do it before the ceremony. as you walked towards paige, you could see her wavy blonde hair with her front pieces in braids (as always). she was wearing an all white suit. you could tell she was nervous and excited by how much she was fidgeting.

“paige?” when she turned around her blue eyes already had tears in them. she looked at you in awe and almost fell to her knees. “we can’t cry we both have make up on,” you fan both of your both eyes trying to hold it all in.

she laid her head on yours and looked into your eyes. for a moment it felt like it was only the two of you in that garden. “we’re finally doing it. my wife,” you see a tear fall from her eye as she leans in to kiss you.

౨ৎ now the vows!!!!!! 🥹

paige reached into her pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. you could see her shaking, so you squeezed her hand to remind her it’s just you.

she smiled at you and took a deep breath, “ever since i could remember, i was always told, “you’ll know when they’re the one,” and i never understood that. i never felt complete until i saw you. when our eyes met, i knew after 3 seconds that you were the one. i’m blessed with the pleasure to know someone like you.” she looked up at you and saw you tearing up. “bro if you cry, i’ll cry,” she said laughing. “okay okay! no more crying.”

she took another shaky breath, “to be able to love and be loved by you. you are my sunrise and sunset filled with the most beautiful colors. you’re my peace with the world is too loud. your love is my turning page. you are the strongest person i know and i admire to be my best self everyday. i never doubted our love and will always consider myself lucky to love and learn from you. these past four years have been my favorite movie. i promise to love every single detail of you for the rest of my life.”

after you said your vows, paige was walking up to kiss you until you stopped her. “not until we say i do!” she looked at you with shock but kissed your knuckles on both hands. she leaned her forehead on yours once more. “see you at the alter,” then watched as you walked back to the venue’s house.

she didn’t want to take her eyes off of you. just wanted to stand there and admire you.

౨ৎ during the dance, you reserved chick-fil-a as a surprise for paige. she ran to you and grabbed your face to kiss you all over. her and kk were fighting over who was going to be the first to be served. spoiler alert: you got served first since they were too busy bickering. when you were eating your nuggets, paige noticed you had ranch on the corner of your mouth and kissed it off of you.

౨ৎ once your reception was over and almost all of your wedding guests have left, you and paige danced one last dance. your heels were long gone and paige was very tipsy. she held you so close to her chest that you could hear her heartbeat. you felt the breeze against your skin and closed

your eyes. paige was slowly guiding you in a circle while humming the song.

she kisses your head and said, “my wife.”

tagging: @urantisocialgay because i know you’ve been asking for this (:

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers imagine #paige bueckers x fem!reader #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfiction #uconn huskies #uconn wbb

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part one

word count: 9.2k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.

"Do you ever get tired?" 

Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.

"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.

Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.

"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"

Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.

"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.

"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.

They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.

He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.

Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.

Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that. 

What's cooler than an old lady? 

"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."

It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her. 

Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist. 

Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.

"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.

Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."

She surely doesn't recognize him.

And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"

"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?" 

"Yes, for the last four years."

"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"

"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."

"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.

"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.

"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.

"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."

As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night. 

Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.

The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"

And the rest was history.

Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.

She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.

Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer. 

He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her. 

"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.

"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."

"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."

She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.

"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"

"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth." 

From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.

"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"

"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound. 

"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.

"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"

She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "

For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.

"You sure do have a way with words."

"I try." 

Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"

"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."

"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"

"No, not really." 

"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"

"Yes."

That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely. 

"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."

And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."

"Okay."

"We can start now?"

"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.

"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"

She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate. 

"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."

"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"

She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.

"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"

"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."

"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.

"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"

Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.

"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.

Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.

"What have you lost?"

"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.

He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.

"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems. 

"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."

"Have you heard from him since?"

"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."

Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.

"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."

"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces. 

"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.

"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."

"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."

Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.

"Shit." 

She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest. 

She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings. 

When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.

She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas. 

"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."

"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door. 

"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently. 

Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.

Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind. 

Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.

Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.

And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.

Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.

Clementine was actually so fucking cool.

People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her. 

Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.

Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.

He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume. 

Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name. 

He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.

She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.

She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.

He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.

Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly. 

He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show. 

Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.

Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.

"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect. 

"Probably here."

As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.

Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.

"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”

-

The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.

She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her. 

When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.

Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities. 

There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.

She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.

"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame. 

"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."

She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.

"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.

"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.

His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.

"So it's a movie about eating people?"

Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry. 

"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."

"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"

Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.

Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives. 

He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit. 

He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause. 

He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.

Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.

Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him. 

Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.

As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars. 

"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"

-

When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France. 

She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.

When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal. 

If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows. 

Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.

Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together. 

Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex. 

She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.

Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world. 

Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.

Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.

In fact, she was fine with it. 

She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.

It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself. 

She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt. 

She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered. 

So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.

She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her. 

She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.

He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.

When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.

"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him. 

"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."

"You have been celebrating?"

"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"

Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."

His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"

"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.

Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.

He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.

"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.

"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.

"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"

"I touched down today after qualifying."

"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired." 

Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted. 

"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.

Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.

"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."

She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."

"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."

Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."

"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."

"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."

He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.

"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."

Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."

Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister. 

He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."

Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth. 

He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly. 

Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony. 

Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.

"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.

It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.

He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands. 

"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."

"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."

"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.

"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."

He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.

"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"

Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."

Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly. 

"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.

"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."

"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."

"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring." 

"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.

Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."

Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing. 

"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"

"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."

"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."

"Thank you." Lewis grins.

"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"

"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."

"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take." 

"Shower?"

"With you?" She wonders.

"If you're okay with that."

 "I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."

Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower. 

clementine

liked by lewishamilton, tchalamet, and 8,898,465 others

clementine the best week, the most perfect week.  

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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.

tchalamet And she's done it again people.

badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️

pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.

user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.

-

As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.

Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.

"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"

Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."

Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve." 

When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."

He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night. 

She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.

"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"

"About a week." 

Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.

"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"

Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"

Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."

Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away. 

"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch." 

He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase. 

"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"

Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head. 

Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.

Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.

Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.

It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head. 

He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?

She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance. 

"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in. 

SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city. 

"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"

SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."

"You're the best, SK." she smiles.

"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."

-

Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry. 

He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.

"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."

Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet. 

He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.

When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.

He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.

thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.

- 🍊

He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.

Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.

Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.

-

#lewis hamilton x black fem oc #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #poc reader #f1 #black reader #black reader friendly #black female oc

[sweetbans29]

Should Have Been Me - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: You and Caitlin are home for a weekend to celebrate her brother's birthday - one thing leads to another and nothing is the same.

Warnings: ANGST - PURE ANGST, read at your own will. I would apologize but that would be a lie...

Word Count: 6.3k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Please don't ask why I did this, I needed the pain. Just let it be. But low-key this is probably one of my favorites that I’ve written. Okay great, thanks!

You and Caitlin are jamming out on the drive home to Des Moines. A few weeks back she mentioned how her younger brother's birthday was coming up and she was planning on making the trip home to be there. She didn't need to ask, knowing you would come.

The two of you grew up together, meeting on the first day of first grade. You two were inseparable. If you weren't at school together, you were at practice or at each other's homes. Your parents accepted when you were girls that they both had two daughters even though she was the only girl among her siblings and you were an only child. You were all essentially one big family.

It came as no surprise to either of them when Caitlin and you told them you were dating in high school. It was a little bit of a hard pill for her parents to swallow but ultimately were supportive of your relationship when they saw how happy you made Caitlin as more than a friend. It wasn't a hard decision when the Hawkeyes came around and scouted both of you out to play college basketball with them. It was both of your dreams, to play college basketball and ultimately make it to the NCAA championship. Eventually to play in the WNBA and that all was coming true right before your eyes. It was the cherry on top that you two were able to do that together on the same team. Not only is your chemistry incredible off the court, but on the court - it's unmatched.

This is your last little getaway before things pick up going into March Madness. Senior year baby and the two of you know you can the team all the way back to the final four.

You pull up to her house and grab your bag from the car. Even though your home was right down the street the two of you planned to spend the Friday night at her house and then head to yours for Saturday night. It works out well as her brother's birthday party is tonight.

Once you get inside, you see her mom going crazy trying to get everything in order before tonight You set your things down and immediately help out wherever she needs. Caitlin does the same but takes some time to catch up with her dad first. Once Cait and her dad jump in, it all comes together.

People begin to arrive and the party comes together. Their home comes to life with friends and family from all over.

Caitlin's mom comes running over to Caitlin and you in a slight panic.

"Caitlin, I need you to go grab Colin from his friends," she says looking at her phone.

"Doesn't he have his car? Why do I need to go grab him? I told Dad that I would help him get the lights up for the party before everyone got here and we are behind." She says getting a little flustered herself.

"His car isn't starting and his friend is out of a car so they have no way of getting here," Caitlin's mom explains.

"I can go get him," you say. "That way you both can stay and finish anything that is needed."

"Oh, you are an angel, sweetheart! Thank you, thank you, thank you," she says while giving you a hug.

"It is no problem, it's my pleasure," you respond and give her a smile. Caitlin gives you a look of gratitude.

Caitlin's mom sends you the address and you give Cait a peck before heading out to grab the boys.

Once you get in your car, you put on your favorite playlist and maps then head out. It was only about a 15-minute drive there. As you are driving, it is just starting to get dark. Your lights turn on automatically as you are driving. You are about 5 minutes out when you are stopped at a light. Once yours turns green, you begin to go and that is when time stops.

*Third person-ish POV*

Caitlin's mom walks over to her and her dad as they are setting up the lights. They are just about finished putting them up - it took a minute to do but they look really good.

"Have you see your little bother yet? I thought they would be back by now," her mom says looking at her phone.

"I am sure they are almost here, Mom," Caitlin says as her arms are holding up the last string of lights for her dad.

"I'm sure you're right," she says as she walks away and goes to tend to the food.

Once the lights are complete, Caitlin goes to look for you. She looks all over the place and can't seem to find you. After about 30 minutes of looking, she finds her mom.

"Hey mom, have you seen (y/n)," she asks, checking her phone to see if there were any messages that she missed.

"I have been trying to call her. Your bother called and asked when we would be there to pick him up," she says and Caitlin begins to get nervous. Looking at the clock, she realizes it has been about an hour since you had left to pick him up and it should have taken you 30 minutes.

Cait gives your phone a ring and it goes straight to voicemail. She begins to look around for your parents, knowing they were here to see if they could get a hold of you. When she finds them, they say they haven't seen her yet.

"Caitlin, can you go get your brother, please? It has been over an hour in and he is still waiting for (y/n)," her mom says, not looking up from her phone. Caitlin grabs her mom's keys and heads out.

As she is driving, she notices there are police detouring cars. Her heart rate begins to pick up. She has to tell herself that it's not you, it couldn't be you. There was no way, you had never been in an accident and you are the best driver she knows. She slows down and makes a slow turn following the detour when she sees it. She sees your car flipped on its side, completely crushed on the driver's side.

She pulls her car over immediately, gets out, and runs to the scene. There is caution tape around the whole area which she completely ignores and runs over to the first ambulance she can see. When she looks inside, she sees a man with a cut on his forehead and arm in a sling. Before she can continue looking, there is a police officer approaching her.

"Ma'am, you can't be over here," he begins to say as he tries to usher you out of the caution-taped area.

"That's my girlfriend's car! I need to find her!" She says as she is in full-blown panic now.

The officer's mannerisms change completely when he hears that the girl in front of him knows who was in the car that was hit.

"Come this way, ma'am," he says in a gentler tone this time.

"No, I need to find (y/n). That is her car, she is here and I need to find her," Caitlin says not seeing the officer's demeanor changing. He grabs her arm and tries to get her to look at him. When she looks at him, he speaks again.

"You should come this way and we can talk," he says slowly, not wanting to spook you. Caitlin goes into a haze. She stops trying to fight the officer and lets him lead her to an easy-up tent that has been set up with lights. He offers her a chair and a bottle of water and sits next to her.

"Would you happen to have contacts for her parents? Someone else we can call to come down and be here with you?" The officer says, still not telling her what happened or where you are.

Caitlin pulls out her phone from her pocket and hands it over to him with your mom's phone number on the screen. Up to this point, no tears had fallen from Caitlin's eyes - if she was feeling anything it was anger. Why wasn't anyone telling her anything? She still had no idea what had happened. The officer passes her phone to another officer and they make the call.

"Can you please tell me what has happened and what's going on? I want to see her, is she okay?" Caitlin begins asking the officer again. She is doing everything in her power to not completely freak out. Her body is numb and she is confused as to where you could be.

"It would be best to wait for her family to be here," the officer begins but is cut off by Caitlin.

"I am her family." She says without hesitation. It was true. Not by blood and not legally, at least not legally yet but between growing up together and the relationship the two of you had been in for the last 6 years, it was only a matter of time before you were married. She had been your family since day one and everyone knew that.

The officer gives her a somber smile and a nod. Giving her a pat on the shoulder as another officer calls him over.

Caitlin sits there and waits, trying to look around at other ambulances to see if she can see you in any of them. If you were hurt, maybe they had already taken you to the hospital and didn't want her to drive in the state she was in.

A few moments pass and Caitlin sees both your parents and hers come running up to the scene. Caitlin stands and immediately hugs her mom. The tears begin to fall the second she is wrapped in safe arms. She still has no idea what is going on but at least now she is not alone.

The officer approaches asking your parents if they are they say they are. He takes them aside and begins explaining what happened. Caitlin breaks away from her mom to look over and see your mom sobbing with your dad trying to hold her as he sheds tears of his own.

"Mom, what happened? They haven't told me anything, I just want to see her," Caitlin says heart beating faster than a race car. Seeing your parents crumble before the officer has her feeling sick. She can't stand still as her foot is tapping and her hands keep playing with either themselves or the bottom of her shirt.

Caitlin's dad nods at her mom as he walks over to your parents and the officer. The officer and her dad both look over to Caitlin and her mom as they turn away. Caitlin sees her dad's shoulder slump and his hand come up to his face. He takes another moment before patting the officer on the shoulder and heading back to where his family is.

He doesn't say anything as he approaches, but rather takes Caitlin in his arms and just holds his daughter.

"Dad," Caitlin begins, hesitant in asking how. The last 45 minutes had felt like an eternity as she had been asking everyone under the sun what had happened. But the way her dad walked over and went to hold her, she no longer wants to know what has happened - she just wants to go back to earlier today when it was you and her against the world on the drive home. She can't seem to find what to ask anymore.

"Baby, I'm so sorry." Is all he says as he holds his baby girl. Something your parents are no longer able to do. Her mom rubs Caitlin's arm.

Caitlin's whole body goes numb, she still doesn't really know what happened but knows enough now to figure out nothing is going to be the same. When it begins to hit her, she feels suffocated by the arms holding her. Her first instinct is to run, to break away from here and run. And that is exactly what she does.

She pushes through her dad's arms and runs. She can hear her parents call for her but she doesn't look back.

She runs for hours finally slowing down when her lungs begin to burn so bad that she is gasping for air. Not that she wanted it - if you weren't with her, what was the point? You had been by her side her whole life and now she was alone. Cait lets out the most primal scream and falls to the ground. She curls up into a ball as the tears begin to fall.

Her mind begins to think of you, to the last moment before you left when you offered to pick up her brother. All she gave you was a little peck - no hug, no I love you. She should have held you and told her she loved you. It is then that it dawns on her, she was the one that was supposed to go. It was Caitlin who was first asked to pick up her brother but she didn't want to leave her dad so you volunteered. It should have been her picking up her brother. Maybe if it was her, things would have turned out differently and you would have still been here. As she is curled up on the side of the street - she feels her body beginning to shut down...

It was the summer before junior year of high school and you and Caitlin were heading home from practice for your club team, Attack. She was driving the two of you back to your house when you mentioned you wanted to stop to get milkshakes. She happily pulled over at your favorite local spot. Once the two of you had gotten your sweet treat, you sat in her car drinking milkshakes and talking about all the possibilities for playing college ball.

"Cait?" You ask as she is finishing her milkshake. She looks up at you. "I love you," you say. Up to this point, the two of you had both told each other you liked each other more than friends and started to explore what that looked like. You would say the two of you had been dating for the past couple of months - keeping it really low-key as you didn't know how the people around you would take it. But there was something about this moment, something about being together and just doing life together that helped you realize she is your everything.

She looks at you slightly shocked.

"You don't need to say it back!" You say, not wanting to pressure her. You just didn't want to go another day without telling her. "I just needed to tell you because, well, I do. I love you, Caitlin Clark."

A goofy little smile makes its way to her face and she pulls you in for a hug. It isn't the most comfortable considering you sitting in a car and have some piece of the center console pushing into your rib cage but you didn't mind.

"I love you," she whispers in your ear as she hugs you.

"Caitlin, sweetie," someone is shaking her arm. "Cait, wake up," they continue to shake her, waking her up.

She looks up, eyes foggy and body in pain. It takes her a few seconds to see it is completely dark and that she is on the side of the road. As she looks around, she realizes she is across the street from your favorite milkshake place. It had closed down a few years back but it was often a place the two of you would go to just sit and talk.

As she sits up, she doesn't remember stopping here. She just remembers running and running until she literally couldn't.

"Caitlin, sweetie," she hears again and looks up. It is your dad who has woken her up, she looks around and it is just him. "We have been looking for you for a while now sweetie."

She just nods. Everything rushed back to her. No one has actually said it to her yet, but she knows. You were gone. Her eyes begin to water again as it is all too much for her to wrap her mind around.

Your dad sits next to her, not ready to make his way back to reality. Sitting there with Cait, has him feeling like you are still here. That you are going to walk up and take them both home and tell them that this was all a dream.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I took you and (y/n) here after your very first basketball practice in elementary school. You both wanted something sweet and I didn’t want to go out of the way on the drive home that I pulled over here in hopes they had something that would satisfy you both. We walked in and they had milkshakes,” he says with a little laugh and sniffle. “(Y/n) had never had a milkshake before but you were so excited and told her it was the best thing in the world. Of course, she believed you, she trusted you with her whole heart and soul and you didn’t disappoint her. That afternoon you two shared a chocolate shake, finished every last drop.”

Caitlin is hugging her legs as tears stream down her face. She doesn’t remember that but it makes it that much more special that this place was your spot.

“Caitlin, has anyone explained what has happened?” He asks hesitantly. He doesn’t want to talk about it but he knows that she deserves to know.

She takes a minute, deciding if she really wants someone to say it. Even though she knows you are gone, for some reason having someone explain what actually happened makes everything that much more real. She finally shakes her head no, not daring to make eye contact. She feels like she would physically fall apart if someone looked into her eyes with any drop of sympathy.

“They said it was fast, that she didn’t feel any pain,” he began, hoping that would provide any ounce of peace to her. “When she was going through the intersection, a drunk driver came and blew through their red light. They impacted the driver's side and she…” he is choked up at this point. It’s not right that a father has to say this about his daughter. “She died upon impact.” He finishes, not sugarcoating it knowing Caitlin also preferred the direct approach.

Caitlin at this point is shaking with pain and anger. Her world has completely flipped due to an idiot making bad decisions. She wants to find the man and bring him all the pain she is feeling but knows that will never bring you back. That’s all she really wants, is you back.

Your dad doesn’t rush Caitlin, he lets her feel everything she needs. If he is honest, he also needs this time. He’s been caring for your mom then went on the hunt with the rest of the family to find Caitlin. He hasn’t had the time to just sit. Not that he really wanted to because that allows the feelings to come in and disrupt peace. How does a dad wrap his mind around losing his baby girl? His only little one.

“I don’t know life without her,” Caitlin speaks for the first time. Her voice is unsteady and broken, desperate. “She’s always been there, I don’t know how to be here without her,” she says as she lets out a cry. She bites her arm to avoid completely losing it. Your dad's hand comes to rub her back and bring her into a hug.

"I know she was your person and you were hers. She will always be a part of you," your dad says trying to calm the broken girl you left behind. "But I also know that she took a part of you and that it is going to take time for you to process and heal."

The two of them sit, not saying much after that. After some time, your dad helps Caitlin into the car, driving her back to her home. On the car ride back, your dad calls Caitlin's dad letting her know that she is with him and they can all head back to their house.

When they arrive, Cait's parents come running out and embrace her in a hug. Her whole body was still numb, her cheeks stained with dried tears. She doesn't have the energy to hug them back, rather just stands there. No thoughts going through her head, she doesn't quite know what to do. How does someone continue living when they are no longer whole?

*One week later*

Caitlin is sitting on her bed, dressed in a simple black dress. Her hair is straightened and her nails are black. They are usually painted white but that just didn’t fit her in the moment. She is mentally preparing to face the crowd of people who are waiting just down the road.

She takes a shaky breath and stands from her bed. She walks up to her dresser and puts on a necklace and bracelet - both were gifts from you. She looks at herself one more time in the mirror. As she is looking at herself, she pictures when the two of you were standing there dressed for a friend’s wedding. It’s almost as if she can see you standing next to her.

She hears a faint knock on her door. She doesn’t respond but the door opens and her mom peaks through.

“Hey baby, are you ready” She asks in a gentle motherly tone. Caitlin just nods. Never in a million years would she picture herself being in this boat.

Cait's dad had already driven over to the church with her brothers. It was going to be Cait and her mom driving there just in case she needed some space to be alone.

As they arrive, there is already a huge crowd of people, all of whom are entering the building. Caitlin's heart rate begins to pick up and she begins to fiddle with the bottom of her dress. Her mom grabs her hand, attempting to calm her. Nothing and no one will ever calm her like you did.

She walks in. There have been countless times Caitlin has imagined walking down this aisle with you but under much different circumstances. Her heart aches at the thought of what could have been.

She takes her seat in the front row between her mom and her dad. As she sits, she makes the mistake of glancing over at your parents. She can tell they are doing everything in their power to keep their composure but she knows they are faking.

The funeral service begins and your dad is the first to go up and speak. Caitlin's mind wanders elsewhere...

It was freshman year of college and the two of you are heading into your Intro to Psych class. The two of you head to the seats you have sat in since day one. In the middle of class, Caitlin feels a weight on her shoulder. When she looks over she sees you - fast sleep on her.

It had been a busy few weeks between double practices and all the homework you two had. Cait knew you had been bending over backwards adjusting and keeping up with all the university required of you.

She leans down and kisses you on the head. You would always say you are an ugly sleeper - granted you had never seen yourself but you could feel it. Caitlin on the other hand would disagree and say you are the cutest when you sleep. She would always say you looked so peaceful, childlike.

Caitlin also knows that you would be pissed if she let you sleep through the lecture. You were the better note-taker and when it would come time to study for the final - Cait wouldn't hear the end of letting you sleep through the review. But on the other hand, your girl knows how little sleep you have been getting, always working on school work or reviewing plays and making sure you were on top of everything.

You let out a little sigh and lean a little further into her - fast asleep. Caitlin lets out a little groan, knowing she would much rather watch you sleep on her than wake you. She slowly begins to move her shoulder, trying to get you to wake up without being startled.

When you don't budge, she leans down and says your name in your ear. You still don't budge.

Finally, she turns a little, trying not to draw attention to the two of you, and moves her arm to squeeze your thigh.

"Babe, you need to wake up," she says, giving your thigh another squeeze.

"Mmmm, don't want to," you mumble and move to take hold of her arm, wrapping your arms around it like it was a pillow.

"Babe, we are still in class." She says with a little laugh - falling a little more in love with you.

This causes you to shoot up, fully alert by her words. You look around and your cheeks redden immediately. Sinking down in your chair - embarrassment filling every ounce of your body.

She hands you your pen back and leans over to kiss your head once again.

"Don't worry babe, you didn't miss much," she says reassuring you.

Caitlin is pulled back to the present - though she much rather stay in the past. The service was ending and there was going to be a time for people to pay their respects to your family. it was being held at your house, Caitlin hasn't been without you - not having the strength to go over to see your parents. Most of the last week was spent in bed, with the exception of when her mom encouraged her to shower.

When she walks into the house, it almost feels foreign. She grew up in this house with you and now it feels unknown. She walks up to your parents. Your mom engulfs her in a hug, mumbling something along the lines of how much she loves her. Cait then steps over to give your dad a hug. The last time she saw him was when he found her on the side of the road. He hugs Caitlin without saying anything until their embrace ends.

"When you are ready, I have something to show you," he says. Caitlin just nods. She isn't ready yet but keeps that in mind.

As Cait makes her way further into the house, her team is standing there. This is the first time seeing anyone outside of your family since that night.

Kate is the first one to come up to Caitlin and pull her into a hug. Kate is crying as she hugs her. When Caitlin is in public settings - she doesn't tend to cry, she does everything in her willpower not to because someone had to stay composed and when you were around, it wasn't you. She hugs Kate back and rubs her back.

All the girls give their condolences and talk about their favorite memories with you. Kate is holding Caitlin's hand, grounding her.

Caitlin stands there, trying to be polite and listen to how much they all loved you and adored you but she was crawling in her skin. None of this still feels right. Somewhere in Caitlin's mind and heart, she is waiting for you to walk through the front door and tell everybody that there is no one to mourn and that she is okay. But that was all just a dream.

Caitlin excuses herself and decides she wants to be alone. She begins walking and before she knows it, she is standing at the door to your room. The door is closed and she doesn't remember this being the destination she was looking for.

Her breath begins to unease itself as her hand comes to the doorknob. She twists it and opens the door, not yet daring to take a step inside. She stands looking around - the all too familiar space feeling empty. A pain builds in her chest as she walks through and makes her way to your dresser.

She looks at all that it holds. Little trinkets that the two of you saw value in, old jewelry, and many pictures of the two of you. Photos of you growing up and in high school. Her fingers run along your face on all of them - tears finally making an appearance on her own.

She then makes her way to your closet - bringing an old high school basketball sweatshirt into her chest. She inhales the scent of it, dampening it with her tears. She puts it on and hugs her arms around her body. She makes her way over to your bed and runs her hands over it, remembering all the times she had spent the night here with you. She lays down and curls up into a ball.

Looking over, she sees an old teddy bear that the two of you had made at Build-a-Bear for one of your anniversaries. She takes hold of the bear and snuggles into it - finally allowing her sobs to release.

Every time she begins to feel better, she gets hit by another truck. This one being the second biggest only to the night it all happened.

After some time, she finally begins to settle down. She sees your dad pass by. Caitlin gets up and runs to the doorway, calling for him.

"Caitlin," he begins, as he slightly peers into your room. "We haven't been in (Y/n's) room since it happened, we haven't had the strength to..." He continues.

"You said you had something you wanted to show me?" She asks, not really sure if she is ready but wants to know.

"Oh yes, wait here, let me grab it," he says and goes to get something from your parent's room. He comes back holding something in his hand.

He passes it to Caitlin. It is a small velvet box. Caitlin's hands begin to shake.

"When you are ready, you can open it. It doesn't have to be now, but I know it belongs to you." He says as there is some confusion written on Caitlin's face. He explains. "This was my mother's, she passed it down to Y/n when she mentioned the two of you started dating. We have been holding onto it but like I said, it's yours." He chokes out the last part and excuses himself.

Caitlin goes to sit on your bed and just stares at the box in her hands.

She slowly opens the box to see the most beautiful diamond ring sitting in it. Tears begin to fall again as she removes it from the box and places it on her finger.

It's your grandmother's wedding ring. Your grandmother had given you her wedding ring for when you were ready to ask Caitlin to marry you. Caitlin looks at the ring on her finger and clutches her hand to her chest - you were going to ask her to be your wife.

As Cait was going to close the box, a little piece of paper caught her eye. She pulls it out and opens the folded piece. She whispers the words on the page.

"Dear Y/n, It is clear to me how much you love Caitlin. I could see it before the two of you started dating, it was only a matter of time. She is your person like your grandfather was to me. I am giving you this ring for when the time is right and you are ready to build a life with her. May you love each other more and more each day, as your grandfather and I did. I love you, sweet girl. - Grams"

Caitlin struggled through the letter but was glad she did. She realized you had been holding on to this ring for the past 5 years.

*Two months later*

Caitlin was back at school and back at practice with the girls. Each girl on the team took turns watching over Caitlin. It was never said but she knew, at no point was she ever alone except to sleep.

Tonight was her first game back and it has been a love-hate relationship getting back on the court. Basketball has always been her love but it was off-putting being on the court without you. The two of you had played together for so long, neither of you had to think when it came to making things happen. Coming back to practice it was like learning a whole new sport.

As the team was in the locker room before the game - they were getting a talk from Coach Bluder before taking the court for the first game of March Madness.

"We are going to go out there and give our everything. There is nothing we are not ready for - each and every one of you has put in the blood, sweat, and tears and we are going to show the world that this is our time." She says getting the team fired up. Her final words bring silence among the group. "As we go out there, we are going out there incomplete. We are missing someone who has changed this team for the better and when we step foot onto that court, we are walking out there in her honor. Y/n will always be a part of this team and as she carried this team as captain before - she still does today."

Caitlin fiddles with the ring that would have wed the two of you and safety pins it to the left side of her sports bra. There was no way she was walking out there without you with her.

The team lines up in silence - ready to go out and honor you. And that is exactly what they did.

Iowa went 91-65, absolutely crushing the first round of March Madness. Your team fought its way back to the Final Four and Caitlin dedicated every game to you.

The night of the Final Four was a battle - UConn put up an amazing fight, but the Hawkeyes came out on top. After the game - it was decided that Caitlin would step into the post-game press conference. Her first one since your passing.

As she sits down, the crowd takes a second to settle, surprised seeing her out there considering she hadn't been in any of the previous ones despite being an all-star in each of them.

The press starts asking questions about the game and how the team was able to pull the win off. Everything was going smoothly until one reporter asked about you.

"Caitlin, there was a loss on your team right earlier in the season - how has that affected the team dynamic?" The reporter asks.

She was expecting someone to ask but even anticipating the question, it took her some time to gather her thoughts. Just as she was about to speak - Kate stepped up and responded for her. Caitlin was extremely thankful and when Kate was done she finally found the words she wanted to say.

"No one on this team has felt the loss of Y/n more than I have. She was my #1 on and off the court," she says beginning to get choked up. "Her absence is felt deeper than anyone can imagine and this team will never be the same without her."

'I will never be the same without her' is what Caitlin wanted to say but couldn't between the tears that began to fall. Kate passed her a towel, which she gladly accepted. She tried so hard to keep it together but it was all still so fresh.

That night, Kate and some of the other girls spent the night at Caitlin's so she wouldn't have to be alone. It had only been a few months but Caitlin was afraid she would never truly heal from you.

*One year later*

Caitlin was living out the dream the two of you talked about so often. She was in the WNBA and was playing for the Indiana Fever. She had an incredible rookie year and was currently at an awards night where she was going to receive the Rookie of the Year award.

The night was going well and it was time for the award presentation. When they announce Caitlin as rookie of the year, she ascends the stage and accepts the award, giving the commissioner a hug before taking her place to make her speech.

"First off, I want to say a huge thank you to my team - if it wasn't for them taking me in like they did, I wouldn't be standing here today. I want to thank my Iowa team who grew me and shaped me. Thank you to my parents and brothers for always pushing me and believing in me and my ability." She looks down at the award and at her hand that wears her ring. "The last thank you I want to give is to Y/n, my wife." She says it knowing the weight it holds but it comes out so naturally.

"I owe my everything to her. She was my supporter from day one and every day after that she wouldn't settle for anything less than my best. Even when I would say I was giving her my all - she would push me past that, strengthening me and showing me who I truly had the potential to become. I stand before you all today because of her love of this sport, and her love of me." Caitlin makes the slightest adjustment to look up, to anyone in the audience it looks like she is looking up at the balcony but all those who knew you, know that she is looking up to you. "Baby, we did it," she says as a single tear rolls down her cheek. "We are living out our dream."

AN: DON'T ASK ME TO APOLOGIZE BECAUSE I WON'T. Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #caitlin clark imagine #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #caitlin clark masterlist #wnba #indiana fever

[plutoispurplw]

Guilty As Sin?

Summary: You are new at the bau and you finally meet Spencer, you fall for him but he started to avoid you.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.2K

Warnings: Smut, little angst, legal age gap of ten years (35 & 27), happy ending.

A/N: Hi everyone, guess who is back! This is inspired by Guilty as Sin by my favorite blonde. Stream The Tortured Poets Department.

When you began to work at the BAU, Penelope had told you that one of the members of the team was in prison, she said that he was innocent. 

Months later, when he was out of jail you finally met him, you were mesmerized by him, he looked like something out of your wildest dreams. 

You notice the dark circles under his eyes and how he looks tired but still, you are under a spell by him. 

"Hello, nice to meet you, Dr.Reid, my name is Y/N" You were acting like looking at his eyes was nothing while you felt how your heart was beating like crazy. 

If he noticed it he didn't make an effort to say something about it. "Nice to meet you too and you don't have to call me doctor" He gave you an awkward smile, that was instantly engraved in your brain. 

Even if you were attracted to him, that didn't mean that the age gap between you two was uncomfortable, it was weird to try to have a conversation with him, there wasn't any type of conversation themes to have. 

But as time went by, the age gap seemed to be less uncomfortable, you began to open up a little more to him and vice versa, the conversations you both started to have were nice, and you liked to listen to his ramblings. 

After some more time, you two started to go to a café in your free time to talk, when you talked about something that you liked he gave you his attention, and he didn't make you feel weird. 

Then it started the glances, the quick brushes against each other. The tension was growing like crazy, but only happened when you two were alone. 

Something magnetic was pulling you towards him, maybe was destiny or chemistry but it didn't matter, because you couldn't escape from that feeling. 

When you touched yourself, you would fantasize about him, but how could you be guilty if he hadn't touched you yet? 

Only in your mind, his name was written on your inner upper thigh. 

And finally, the tension just broke one night. 

After solving a case and being back home, the team went to a bar to relax after those stressful days. You were tired and you asked Spencer to take you home, and he accepted. 

When you were at the entrance of the apartment and were about to say goodbye, you felt how his gaze was fixed on your lips, you couldn't stop looking at him like a lovesick teenager at that moment. 

Then it snapped, he stole you a kiss, and you reciprocated it, you felt the passion and desperation that he put on the kiss, your whole body burning because of the need for his touch. 

The kiss didn't last too long because then he pulled away, and regret was written on his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that." Before you could say something he was gone, you just lay on the bed until you fell asleep with thoughts running through your mind. 

After that, he started to avoid you if it wasn't important like you were some kind of plague that could kill him. 

You started to think if you did something wrong but nothing came to your mind. 

You felt hurt and after a time you didn't try to make amends for something that you were sure you didn't break anymore, it was better if you were alone or that was what you tried to tell yourself. 

After some time, in a case. The team was staying in a hotel like always, you were in your room when you noticed that the air-conditioning wasn't working, you went to the lobby to ask for another room but they told you that there weren't any more rooms available 

It was summer and you knew that wouldn’t sleep with the heat. 

You decided to ask Spencer to share because his room was the closest one to you, that was what you tried to think, but deep inside you knew that the true reason was to just be close to him. 

You knocked on the door, and moments later she opened it, he was sleeping in sweatpants and a shirt. His went wide when he saw that it was you.

"Hi, Y/N" His voice sounded deep like have been sleeping before you knocked. The door. He looks at you in the eyes with shame and guilt. "What do you need?" 

"Sorry for waking you up but the air-conditioning doesn't work and there aren't more rooms available so I was wondering if you let me sleep here? Tomorrow I'm gonna ask for another room." 

"Okay, don't worry, I leave you the bed and I sleep on the floor so you can be comfortable." He sounded sincere and you felt how you were falling again for him. 

"We can share the bed, we just put a pillow between us, what do you think?" You look at him with puppy eyes so he can sleep on the bed and don't wake up in the morning with pain in the back.

He just gave you a nod and let you enter, you two started to accommodate the bed again so the two could be comfortable, and while doing that you started to speak again. "What happened that ni-" 

He interrupted you and didn't let you talk. "Let's just forget about that please, I'm tired and you're tired." His voice sounds annoyed by your words. 

You looked from the bed to his eyes. "Stop trying to avoid the theme like it's some kind of explosive, please let's just talk." Your voice sounded like you were begging and maybe you were but you just needed to know why he avoided you like the plague. 

At that moment something snapped inside of him. "I don't want to fucking talk about that Y/N" His voice was louder and now he sound angry at you. 

In other circumstances, you would stay quiet but you were tired from all of this, you didn't want to see him every morning in the office knowing that he didn't want to have any interaction with you like before that night. 

Now you were the one yelling, all the pent-up anger spilled on your words. "Well I need to know why you have been avoiding me like I'm some kind of fucking bad drug for you, I prefer to spend all night awake uncomfortable than being here." You immediately felt guilty of saying something like that to him knowing his past but you didn't say anything and started to walk towards the door. 

Then to your surprise, he stopped you in your tracks grabbed you by the wrist, pulled you towards him, and started to speak. "You know why I been avoiding you? Because if I let you get more closer I won't be able to stop." 

His eyes fixed on yours like they were some kind of gems. "I want to make you mine, I want to consume all of you, you're a drug for me that I know if I taste it's gonna be the death of me." 

He stepped back and stopped grabbing your wrist. "But it wouldn’t be fair, I have more experience than you, your frontal lobe got fully developed two years ago and mine almost a decade ago." 

Before he continued talking you were the one interrupting him this time, you got closer to him. "I want you to be the one to ruin me, I have been thinking of you since I met you, it feels like I'm under a spell that makes me need you, I need to wake every morning next to you." 

In seconds you were kissing each other like it was your last moment on earth, the kiss was filled with desperation and pent-up passion from months accumulated. 

His hands were everywhere making you moan against his neck while you kissed him. 

He pulled away from you and sat on the edge of the bed, his hands pulled towards him making you fall on his lap. 

Your lips against his jaw and neck, his hands started to descend towards your hips carefully and slowly to not startle you like you were some kind of animal. 

Then he started to talk again and you didn't have more patience left. "Are you sure you want this? We could stop if you-" You stopped him before he continued talking. 

"I wanna do it, Spencer, I'm sure" He stopped in his tracks and then his lips were against yours again in a passionate and intense kiss. 

He continued to descend his hands until they were on the waistband of your shorts, he looked you in the eyes, and you just gave a little nod to let him know that was okay to do it. 

He started to pull it down in a slow motion to make you more desperate,  now he could see your lacy underwear. You didn't know if it was worse for him than for you to wait. 

You stood up and took the shorts off completely, then you took your T-shirt off too. His eyes laser-focused on your chest when he realized that you weren't wearing a bra or anything. 

You blushed at his indiscreet gaze and tried to cover yourself but he pulled you towards him again, you fell on his lap again, and his hands were quick to move from your hips towards your breasts. 

He just started to caress them playing with your nipples. "You look so beautiful like this." His kisses started from your neck to your chest, his mouth was on one while the other was being massaged by his other hand. 

After minutes like this, he switched giving attention to your neglected breast. You were just a mess already, letting out little moans and sighs. 

You felt how his hands were on your hips again, then he lay you down on the bed carefully like you were made of crystal. He raised from the bed and then he got on his knees getting a gasp of surprise from your lips. "You don't have to do that if you don't want to." 

"But I want to, I want to see if you can come just from my hands and mouth or if you're gonna need more." His words made you feel a chill run down your spine. 

His hands spread your legs open letting him see how the underwear was wet from your arousal. "Look at this, you were really desperate for my touch, didn't you?" You just gave him a nod in response. 

He took your underwear in seconds so that you were sure that he tear it apart but it didn't matter anymore, you were just focused on his breath against your cunt. 

He started to kiss your inner thighs while his middle finger and index finger entered you and started to move inside you. Moans started to escape from your lips. 

Then his mouth was on your clit making you were seeing stars, saying his name like a mantra, you felt the knot on your stomach starting to get tighter until it exploded and you scream his name, you felt how every wave of pleasure washed over your entire body. 

He got up from his position and you see how he started to to take off his sweatpants and his boxers, you help him take his shirt off. 

All the clothes were scattered on the floor. 

You lay down on the bed again spreading your legs open, he got between your legs, and you could feel his member brushing against your folds teasingly. 

"Please, Spencer, I need to feel you inside." Now you were sure you were begging him to be inside you, you needed it and he need it too. 

In a moment he pushed slowly inside you, and you felt him deep inside you. In his perspective, you were a complete mess, cheeks of a scarlet tone and moans escaping from your rosy lips. 

"You look so pretty, you feel so good, angel." His voice was an octave lower than usual making you shiver. His eyes were full of affection for you. 

He pulled almost out and then his hips snapped against yours making you moan so loud that you were sure that the other persons were hating you two by all the noise. 

The bed started to move with the movement of your bodies, the wood headboard was hitting against the wall again and again, the room full of the noise of moans and curses, and the smell of love. 

He moved to be closer to you and started to whisper sweet nothings against your lips and neck, moans of his name escaping of your lips along pleads of never stop. 

Then everything went quiet when the two of you felt the knot snapped. He pulled out and kissed your forehead with love and you gave him a giggle. 

"I love you" He whispered against your hair while he covered your bodies with the sheets hiding the mess that both of you made. 

"I love you too." You whispered against his neck and gave him a little kiss, now you felt at peace.

#plutoispurple #small account #small writer #taylor swift #criminal minds #smut #doctor spencer reid #X smut #spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #the department of tortured poets #spencer reid #light angst #18+ content #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #female writers #criminal minds angst #one shot

[bbydoll18xx]

Plotting and Scheming

Paige Bueckers x reader

When UConn’s wbb team gets tired of Paige’s pining, they concoct a plan to get you into her arms.

Themes: Mutual pining, slight angst, fluff

Word count: 3.3k

I've gotten a lot of love on my other three little fics, so I hope this one is okay, as well. Let me know if you guys have anything specific you'd like me to write!

Here we go!

------------------------------------------------------

You sat on the sidelines of UConn’s basketball court, admiring the girls fiercely practicing. It was still early in the season, but the dream of winning the NCAA championship kept their grit going.

Having met several of the girls on the team early in your college career, the women’s basketball team had adopted you as one of their own. As a nursing student, you were deemed ‘the fixer of boo-boos’ and you were often around to tend to their cuts and scrapes or to answer their ridiculous medical questions.

That’s where it had all started, and you couldn’t believe where you had ended up because of it.

Your eyes bounced back and forth, following the balls and the whipping ponytails. You always felt so much pride watching them; they were your girls.

Your gaze finds Paige, as it always tends to, and you are mesmerized. She runs, throwing the ball from half count and making it into the basket effortlessly. Without thinking, you stand up, whooping and clapping rambunctiously. She makes eye contact with you, sending you a wink and blowing you a kiss dramatically. Your stomach lurches at the display of affection towards you, and you blush, causing you to glance around making sure no one saw.

Your feelings for the tall blonde had only grown as you got to know her throughout the last several years. She made you feel giddy, like a child with a school crush. As much as you enjoyed being her friend, you had wanted something more for a long time now.

You’d never admit that though. To anyone.

The other girls had spent countless hours trying to get you to admit your feelings for Paige. You held firm, though, vehemently denying any pull or attraction. They would over analyze every interaction between the two of you, and they loved the way your cheeks would bloom with pink from Paige’s compliments and affections. 

In fact, they were absolutely sure that the reason you broke up with your douchebag ex-boyfriend, Zach, was because of your feelings for Paige.

They did not need to know that was actually the case, thank you very much.

It had been on the forefront of your thoughts for weeks before the night where everything had finally exploded. 

You had dragged Zach along to the bar where the basketball team was partying it up, hoping your man would distract you from the longingness you felt for your friend. You felt such a pull towards Paige, and it fucking terrified you. 

You had walked into the bar with Zach, his hand around your waist possessively. The touch reminded you of the last time you and Paige had gone out drinking together. Trying to ignore how you wished it was slimmer and more feminine, you had allowed Zach to lead you towards where the team had gathered in a circle. 

The girls cheered as they saw you approach, thrusting a drink into your hand, encouraging you to catch up to their drunkenness. You glanced around, trying to find Paige in the crowd. 

“Well look who it is,” you heard from behind you. Whipping your head around, you were met with the familiar smirk of your favorite blonde.

“Paige!” you exclaimed, running up to give her a hug, eliciting an eye roll from your boyfriend. You pretended you didn’t see it to keep the peace. You melted into Paige’s embrace, feeling more comfortable in the moment than you had in days.

“K, Bueckers, you can get your grimy hands off my fuckin’ girlfriend,” Zach had sniped, walking away. Pretending as if the man did not even exist, Paige had looked down at you with a wide grin. It was getting harder to overlook her effect on both you and your relationship. 

 The rudeness and nastiness directed at Paige had immediately sent you over the edge.

‘How fucking dare he talk to my girl like that,’ you had thought.

In a sudden fury, you stomped over to him, already busy staring lewdly at some girl who was dancing provocatively in front of him. 

“You can fuck off. Paige can put her hands on me any time she’d like. We’re through. Kiss my ass!” you spat. You spun on your heel and marched back towards the team feeling lighter than you had in months.

“Let's do shots!” you screamed, missing the fond look Paige was giving you.

You snap out of your daydream as you see Paige sauntering over to you where you sat in the bleachers.

“Enjoying the show, huh?” she questions smugly. 

Feeling generous, you nod with a genuine smile. “You guys are doing so great already. You’re gonna go far this season; I can feel it.” The candor of your words causes Paige to beam.

“Listen, we’re all getting drinks tonight at Ted’s. You gonna come with us?”

“Oh I don't know, I've got homework and stuff…” you trail off, trying to find a suitable excuse.

Paige all but pouts. “The girls really want you there. They all told me,” she says knowingly. As if she had planned it, Azzi, KK, and Nika walk over to join you two, all sweaty from practice. 

KK all but jumps on you, causing you to groan under the sudden weight of her body being thrown against you.

“Y’all, please convince this one over here to join us tonight,” Paige pleads, turning back toward you with wide eyes.

You giggle as the girls all jump in, interrupting each other in an attempt to persuade you to come out with them.

You cut them off, trying to stop the cacophony that was echoing off the walls of the gym. 

“I would love to come, but I really have a lot of work to catch up on,” you reason. “If I finish up early, I’ll text you, Paige.” 

Paige nods at this, but you don’t miss the glum look that flits across her face. You sigh half-heartedly, suddenly feeling guilty. You hated making excuses. It was just so hard sometimes, liking her.

“Have fun, guys,” you wave before making your exit from the arena.

As you walk back to your dorm, you feel the pit in your stomach grow larger, enveloping you. Of course you wanted to spend time with Paige, but pining mixed with alcohol and the sensual music of a bar would cause cracks in the hard foundation of your skillful indifference. 

You had been perfecting it since freshman year, but with the way Paige had you feeling lately, you knew it wouldn’t take much for everything to come crashing down.

Walking through your door and sitting at your computer, you get to work, trying to distract yourself. After reviewing your notes for the tenth time and finishing your nursing care plan, you glance at the clock.

Fuck.

It was only 10:30. The girls would probably just be arriving at the bar now, and you really wanted to go meet up with them. 

‘Screw it,” you think. You are going to get drunk tonight, and you’re gonna look hot. You whip out your phone and send a quick text to Paige. Your heart races as she instantly responds. You needed to get your shit in order. Your emotions could not get the best of you tonight.

Over at Ted’s, Paige’s bored expression had quickly turned into an excited grin, causing her teammates to exchange looks of interest.

“What’s got you smiling like that, P?” asks Nika.

“More like who,” smirks KK, glancing at Paige’s phone at your text.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Paige grumbles, trying to hide her blush with her drink.

“Oh c’mon, Paige, this crush is getting ridiculous. Just tell the damn girl you like her,” Azzi demands. “We’re all getting tired of watching you pine over her.”

“Pine?” sputters Paige. “I’m hardly pining. If anything, I’m just admiring…” she trails off.

“Sure, P,” KK drawls sarcastically. “Nothing like admiring your friend’s ass.” 

The other girls snort derisively. KK was not at all off base with that observation.

“Whatever, I need another drink,” grumbles Paige. “Gotta be drunk when my friend shows up.”

Paige walks off, and the second her teammates lose sight of her, they circle up to discuss.

“Jesus, we really need to do something to fix this shit,” Ice says firmly. 

“For real, this is straight embarrassing now!” KK agrees loudly.

Azzi contemplates for a second, before a smirk slides onto her face. “I know what we can do. The only way to get Paige to make a move is to make her super jealous. We can all take turns flirting, and boom! We’ll have two happy lovebirds before we even know it!”

The ploy causes the other girls to laugh hysterically, reveling in the idea of a jealous Paige.

“Sounds perfect!” Nika laughs. “Paige is gonna hate us, but she will be fine once she finally admits her feelings.”

The rest of the girls agree, sipping their drinks and taking great pleasure in what would be coming. 

About an hour later, you walk into the bar feeling incredibly anxious. You were confident in the way you looked; tight jeans with rips that allowed the smooth flesh of your upper thigh to peak out, and a top that showed off your curves deliciously. Lips glossy and hair blown out, you were alluring, wanting all eyes on you tonight. You figured if you got hit on enough, you could distract yourself from Paige’s enticement. Little did you know it’d be at the hands of her own teammates.

You stretched your neck, scouring the bar for the basketball team. Considering their height, they were easy to spot. Flouncing over, you are greeted with the loud, drunken cheers of your favorite girls. 

You giggle at their enthusiasm, suddenly feeling more at ease. You look around, trying to spot the long blonde hair and the wide smile that constantly occupies your consciousness. 

“Where’s P?” you ask casually, trying to avoid any suspicion. This causes the faces of the aforementioned teammates to exchange sly glances that immediately have you worried.

“Oh, she's just over by the bar talking to some brunette,” Nika responds, attempting to gauge your reaction. Luckily, you had been training for this over the last several years.

Did it fucking hurt? Sure, it was like you were being stabbed repeatedly with a fucking knife, but no biggie. You could handle it.

“Cool,” you mumble, staying aloof. “I’m gonna grab a drink...”

Your reaction causes the girls to hoot with laughter once you’re out of reach.

“This is so mean. I feel bad,” mutters Caroline. “I thought we were only going to make Paige jealous…”

“It’s more fun this way. It’s like a secret mission!” KK exclaims. “Getting both of them jealous is fuckin’ perfect.”

As you walk over to the bar, you see Paige talking to a girl. She is smiling in a way that had your stomach doing somersaults, and your face screws up into a look of annoyance. Attempting to ignore the obnoxious giggles of the girl Paige was wooing, you flag down the bartender and order a double of your favorite drink. Lord knows you would need the extra alcohol tonight. 

You look around apprehensively, trying to move time forward with your brain. Your sobriety, in addition to the crammed bar, had you feeling panicked. You needed to get away from Paige before you combusted from jealousy.

Thanking the bartender, who finally slides your drink towards you, you head back to the basketball team, eventually catching Paige's attention.

Pretending you didn’t see your blonde best friend, you bring your straw to your lips in a seductive manner, catching it with your tongue and relishing in the way the alcohol begins to cloud your inhibitions. 

Paige trails behind you, desperately trying to avoid staring at your jean-clad ass.

KK doesn’t miss this. Neither does Ice. They share shit-eating grins, making mocking faces towards Paige, who flips them off in return, a look of embarrassment covering her face. 

You finally turn around, giving up your bit of pretend indifference. 

“Oh hey, P,” you say breezily. “Didn’t see you behind me.”

Before Paige could respond, Azzi is already wrapping her free hand around your waist, bringing her closer to you. She says, “I missed you. C’mon, let’s go dance.”

The blonde’s eyes narrow, but Azzi is already leading you towards the brightly colored dance floor before she could respond to you. 

“The fuck?” Paige mumbles under her breath as the rest of the team exchanges deranged giggles at her shock.

The truth was that Paige was terrible at sharing. Especially you. Even before she wanted anything more than a friendship with you, Paige slightly resented anyone who took away your time and attention from her. 

The signs were so clear. So fucking clear.

Half of the girls follow you to the dance floor, leaving the others to stay with a pouting Paige. Her reaction to Azzi’s contact gives you the tiniest amount of hope, and it gives you a second wind of confidence. 

You dance with the girls, slightly confused at their antics. You were close with all of them, but the touching and incessant compliments had your head spinning.

What the hell was going on? 

Paige was usually the one clinging to you, wanting to make you blush and giggle. Tonight she was acting like a wounded puppy. Her face continuously flashing between a clenched jaw of annoyance and straight bitterness. 

Your attempts to avoid looking at her were futile. This did not go unnoticed by the team, who looked like they were enjoying your longingness way too much. 

You look up at Azzi, begging her with your eyes to tell you what was going on with Paige tonight. 

“Why is she acting like this?” you ask no one in particular, just trying to deduce the weird energy that had accompanied the entire night. The girls shrug and avoid the question altogether, carrying on with their laughing and gyrating.

You sigh, exhausted from the game they were clearly playing. You needed more alcohol or it was going to be a rough night; you were too sober to deal with this. 

“C’mon, shake those hips,” an evidently very drunk Nika, whispers in your ear with a smirk. She brings a hand down to rest on your waist, the other trailing down your back…lower and lower. You look at her, slightly shocked at the affection. Before Nika’s hand could even reach your ass, you feel yourself being ripped away from her by a swearing Paige.

“What the actual fuck, dude?” Paige all but yells at her Croatian teammate, her eyes wild with anger and her jaw clenched with an impressive amount of control. 

Nika just laughs at Paige’s overreaction, along with every other girl on the team.

“What’s wrong, P?” Azzi asks with a mocking tone. “Pissed that someone other than you touched your girl?”

Paige’s voice falters as she responds, “she’s not my girl…just don’t want her to be uncomfortable or whatever…”

Hearing Azzi refer to you as Paige’s girl made your head spin. What the fuck does that mean?

Your head quickly bounces between a smirking Nika, an uncomfortable-looking Paige, and the rest of the team, who were trying and failing, to hold in their laughter.

“I’m confused…” you trail off in a quiet attempt to get some answers.

A few seconds of silence pass before KK breaks it. “Girl boo, just talk to Paige. And use protection.”

Excuse me, what?

The girls vacate the area, leaving you and the blonde staring at each other, both afraid to make the first move.

“Let’s walk back to my apartment. We can talk there,” Paige finally mutters. 

You let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. Things felt vulnerable. Like one wrong move and everything would come crashing down into oblivion. You didn't want your relationship with Paige to be ruined; your one-sided crush already disrupting the delicate balance of it all.

The ten minute walk back to Paige’s felt like years. The air was heavy, constricting your entire being. You held back a sob as the dread seeped into your soul. You couldn’t let Paige see you cry; it was embarrassing enough knowing that she probably already knew of your feelings.

You would get through this. Just let her let you down easy and then you could escape.

As you mentally plan the funeral for your friendship, Paige reaches for your hand, cold from the bitter chill of the night. Your reflexes are quick, wanting to rip it away from her in an attempt to guard the tiniest bit of pride left in you, but you still. 

Nevertheless, you wanted her. And even worse, you needed her. So you allow her to gently take your hand, interlacing your fingers and rubbing a thumb over the smooth skin soothingly. 

It felt so intimate, and the tears in your eyes threatened to spill over your cheeks once more. You glance up, feeling relief as you spot the parking lot of the apartment building. 

As you enter Paige’s room, you look around, trying to memorize everything that made up your friend. ‘This’ll probably be the last time I’ll be here,’ you think solemnly, gazing at the purple comforter thrown haphazardly over the unmade bed. No more giddy nights spent pressed against the blonde, praying she can’t feel the thumping of your heart as she cuddles you.

You sit on the bed warily, readying yourself for the rejection from your most favorite person in the entire world. 

Paige can tell you’re anxious. You unconsciously pick at your fingernails, and your bottom lip is already swollen from being habitually bitten.

She sits beside you, placing a hand over yours again, as if she thinks it belongs there for some reason. In your version of the story, it did. Everything that was yours belonged to Paige.

“I have to tell you something. And I'm really not sure how you’ll react…” Paige trails off, hesitant of how to approach the situation. She clears her throat and continues, “I have feelings for you. I know you probably don’t feel the same, but it’s fine. And the girls knew tonight and were messin’ with me. They thought if they made me jealous enough, I’d do somethin’ about my feelings. And I guess they were kinda right.”

Upon hearing the long winded confession, your ears start ringing and your heart feels as if it might actually combust. 

She has feelings for you? 

You pinch your thigh, slightly wincing at the pain before your face slides into an elated grin. This was actually real.

She has feelings for you. 

Paige searches your face for some sort of guess on how you were reacting to her maundering. With the alcohol still in your system and the shock of her words still reverberating through you, you could do nothing except launch yourself at her gorgeous mouth.

She squeals, momentarily caught off guard by your sudden movement before realizing that the pining she had been doing the last several years was in fact mutual.

Your lips collide, fuckin’ finally, in a kiss that could only be described as heavenly. It was passionate and slow, deliberately savoring the feel and taste of what had been only daydreams for a very long time. 

Ultimately needing to break away for some air, you gaze at each other, reveling in the idea that the pain and heartbreak of years of pining and jealousy was no longer. It was peaceful. It made sense to you, though. Paige was your peace, and you were hers.

Laying down together, you whisper fondly, “I love your teammates so much. Even if their methods are a bit crazy, they really do mean well.”

Paige chuckles in reply. “We are so getting them back for that little stunt, though, right?”

“Of course,” you hum. “Two can play at that game.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #mutual pining #angst with a happy ending #friends to lovers #paige x reader #paige

[tremendum]

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Me and the Devil; i

(not my gif) .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·: Paul Atreides x fem!reader prelude next

word count: 5.3k

summary:  Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn. 

warnings: blood/violence, family deaath, v brief allusions to smut/dubcon, reader is traumatized. pls lmk if i missed anything. not edited.

notes: thanks for all the love so far!!! here's the first chapter of the story - if you want to stay updated, i post on AO3 first :) just a quick first chapter to lay the scene before we jump into the engaging parts of the story. feedback is very motivating and highly valued, thank u all <33

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Penitent Crimes of Retaliation

In accordance with the legal doctrine of the 'Reprisal Accord', as sanctioned by the High Court of the Landsraad, houses are granted the right to retaliate against proven offenses committed upon them. This action shall such be labelled as "Penitent Crimes of Retaliation". Under this mandate, should sufficient evidence be presented, the aggrieved house may initiate a retaliatory strike and engage in warfare against the offending party. While reparations for damages incurred during the conflict are mandated, perpetrators shall be exempt from criminal sentences, ensuring a balanced recourse within the framework of inter-house disputes."

- From the Reprisal Accord, Office of the Padishah Emperor. Imperium, 10041. 

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There was once a time when green was your favorite color. 

You'd enjoyed a childhood of it; Peridot, Jades, the velvet green of winter dresses, the tall, mighty green the sacred Pine. The woven banner of your house, waving in the snow-whipped wind; A snarling green wolf upon the grey armor your parents wore to train you. 

When the men of one other Houses Major arrived to retrieve your older sister, she'd been shroud in that very same pine-colored satin, an elegant dress, as she waved good-bye to you for the last time. When the ice would melt off the lower glaciers for those three months every year, the lakes would thaw to a deep emerald green, and your brother, sisters and you would play in it; servants and soldiers alike yelling and pulling you out, shivering to your bones. 

Even at your sister's funeral. The green of the casket, laid to rest in the ground of a foreign planet by a man who'd never truly loved her. The women of your House, wearing a veil of mourning in that sacred pine satin as you said good-bye to her. Killed by the birth of her first; a son. Your parents had been proud - You became the oldest of your siblings that day.

You can barely stand to look at green anymore. No, instead, you mostly see black.

Black, white, and red. 

They'd sent you away to make for your house a Fortune; a son, they'd wished, for your sake - and, by whispers of your Lady Mother, a daughter - but this place... it crawls with shadows and monsters and deadly smiles; most in the form of your betrothed.

Your na-Baron. 

If Feyd-Rautha ever had a semblance of hesitancy, it was when you first met four years ago. You were at the end of your seventeenth year; he, freshly eighteen. He had been as cordial as you'd ever seen him, escorting you with an arm held out, eyes malicious but mouth less than offensive. He'd even called you Lady Bourbon those first few months on Giedi Prime. And, in fact, you can consider yourself lucky; perhaps for your bloodline, or for you yourself, Feyd-Rautha took special care of you. Maybe he did care for you -in the ways that he could. 

After that, he taught you all you needed to know about the rest of the world. In these final days together, he has admitted furiously that he waited too long to claim you as his wife - four years was much too long for you to wait, even if your purity was claimed by him long before then. 

The accusations had come from his uncle, the Baron; House Bourbon was stealing their precious refinery codes, committing treason against the trading accords along their exportation route. Perhaps, he thought, you were the one to plot it against your beloved future family.

But Feyd-Rautha knew better - knew that you'd never dare betray him. He was the one to demand a public execution of your family - but also the one to redirect your sentencing to a mere prisoner. As if you weren't one already. 

Don't look away. See what we do to scum, my pet? 

After all the sparring, each time you drew that precious blood from him, and you still haven't been able to kill him. If you'd had a blade, you would have, right there in the stands. 

You were, in some ways, relieved when their bodies had hit the sand fast; You'd never seen your brother's skin so reflective as you did this morning. The black sun couldn't hide the blood that had seeped from him, nor from your mother's throat. You'd swallowed thickly, wishing you could look away, gasp - cry; but you had to hide your pain. Your na-Baron would've loved it too much.

Why don't you leave me with them, then? You'd hissed through your teeth.

Though he was wild and psychotic, growling with hunger at the bloodsport in front of him, he heard you for what you'd said. Feyd's fingers pulled your hair hard; forcing your chin to stare up at him. A sickly glint in the black sun, his teeth shone with hunger. 

You'd have me throw you to your Wolves, and lose my prize? He'd tutted, kissing your forehead with a sickening sweetness; enough so that the servants had turned away their spider-black gazes. They didn't care much for the acts of affection you'd occasionally show one another - in a world marred by ugliness, any glimpse of beauty becomes a hauntingly grotesque show of power.

He'd snarled, slapping your cheek hard enough for you to groan. His breath hit your face, you're mine to keep - there's plenty of life left for you to serve.  

He'd held your eyes open as they'd slit your father's throat; then both of your sisters, and your brother's. Your mother had fought as much as she could in her drugged state - the Harkonnens are rutheless, and Feyd-Rautha had sat calmly behind you, your head in his hands, caressing your shaking cheek - but the neckline of her gown was too high, and too thickly inlaid with encrusted heirlooms. 

Bless their voided souls.

The emeralds that tore from her gown as she'd spilled her blood to the sand sent a ripple of pain out of your throat. Feyd had buried his face in your neck, teeth sharp as he sucked a mark just behind your ear, watching as you clenched your palms so hard, your own ruby blood beaded out, blackened in the sun's light.

If anybody would have bothered to look before burning the bodies, you know they'd find all the family diamonds sewn into the fabric of their clothing - centuries of your House, melted away.

Feyd-Rautha had drank up your agony with his lips, smiling as his hand wrapped around your throat. 

Now, alone and away from the thick industrial air, your chambers are cold and suffocating.

There are screams coming from the hall - not the kind that you've grown to associate with your na-Baron testing his new blades, but the kind that comes with danger. With change. 

As it turns out, you are not Feyd-Rautha's to keep any longer.

A loud noise outside of your quarters jolts you from your bed, whispering to yourself. They're coming for you. Pulling the sheets closer to your body, your hand finds the blade gifted to you on your nameday three years ago by your husband-to-be, still tainted with the ghost of your own blood.

Your whispers reverberate in the empty room. "I must not fear. fear is the mind-killer. fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me."

Your voice shakes. Few things remain from your early days of training, before you were sent off to become a Harkonnen; This is one is a relic.

There is a loud noise just outside; blades. 

For a moment, you imagine there is a hand on your arm. It is strong, ghost-white, and possessive. His voice rumbles in your head. Don't look so sad, my pet. I will never let them keep what is mine. I will find you again. 

You almost wish he will. 

When you look down to the weight on your arm, you do not find the hand of your once-betrothed, but the remainder of his ownership, a handprint of a bruise that will not fade even as the soldiers in Atreides armor deliver you to the next planet.

You rise from your bed, preparing your sore body for a fight that will surely end before it even starts. You don't stop your old prayer, in fact, you hardly notice that you're saying it at all. Even as the doors give in. 

"-and when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing - only I will remain-" There are soldiers that burst through.

The way one of them fights strikes a faint memory from a lost childhood, and it fills you with rage. 

Why did you wait so long to rescue me?

You lunge, snarling like the wild beast you've become in your captivity. You will fight, because that is the only thing you know how to do. It is the only thing you have left. 

Your blade falls within minutes.

You're taken by the man from your past not a minute after. 

You're on a ship, watching the black Opiuchi B disappear, in an hour. 

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"My Lady."

You don't realize the worker addresses you until you snap out of it, flushing behind your veil as you step out of the aircraft.

The dress you wear, salvaged from your family's old castle, is dusty. 

It clings to your skin, drowns you, as the rain falls. A staff of House Atreides holds an umbrella above you, shielding your elaborate dress from the water as you walk up towards where the members of the House await you. You stare down at the dress - green velvet. A texture you have not felt in years; your skin looks different not wrapped completely in black.

Your eyes strain to take in the grand entrance to the castle from the hangar which Duncan Idaho had escorted you, ignoring him as he turns to glance back at you momentarily. You can't bear the look of unfamiliarity that flickers over him when he looks at you, now.  

He looks the same - maybe less tall, but that has more to do with it having been six years since you last saw the man. You, however, are not the same girl you were when he knew you on Sabberon. Fear, panic, and wrath rage within you while your gaze smolders daggers at the back of his head. 

He walks just slightly in front of you and despite yourself, you slide just a bit closer - the only semblance of comfort you can allow yourself to feel as you take in the largess of the castle. The air is thicker here than you've ever felt; salty, windy, like you can taste the sea in the rain... it clings to your skin, but it feels clean. You'd been changing into your robes when you entered atmo - you've heard many things about the ocean, about Caladan. 

Something within you yearns to witness it yourself. Subtly, you crane your neck outwards to catch a glimpse; nothing in the near distance but the walls of the castle and high cliffs. 

You nearly trip as Duncan Idaho stops just a few paces from where the members stand at attention to greet you and your retinue.

Duke Leto Atreides, regal and composed, stands at the center of the room, his presence commanding your attention. Beside him, a woman wearing a deep cerulean gown - Lady Jessica. Easily, from behind your own veil, her gaze penetrates you; A cool sensation down your spine as you seem to feel her words in the back of your head as she watches the Reverend Mother who'd travelled with you per High Court orders.

 Hello, sister.

You purse your lips, looking on - there, next to his mother; Standing tall with an aura of quiet intensity, his eyes on you, is Paul Atreides.

The son to whom you're now destined.

Even from your obstructed vision, you can see that he's handsome - lithe, hair curled and combed back to show his eyes. They are wide, penetrating like his mother's, but Maker, they are so green. 

There is no hunger in his eyes, nor hatred, nor anything but a mild curiosity; it strikes a chord of fear in your gut, wishing briefly to return to the na-Baron's sight. It was easy to go unseen with the Harkonnens; They always made their intentions clear, and the na-Baron never wanted many to see you besides himself. You always knew what he wanted, and you could give it to him enough to control him. 

But Paul. His stare betrays no emotion but duty. If not for the boyish pout of his pink lips and his freshly-shaven jaw, you could have mistaken him for his father. A Duke. 

Your name, boomed from the voice of Leto Atreides, pulls you back to the surface of Caladan. "Welcome." Duke Leto's voice resonates through the hall with authority as he addresses you, his tone measured yet warm. Your stomach twists and turns as the man nods courteously to you. Coaxing your body to move, you bow to him.

"We are honored by your presence." His voice is surprisingly humane, exceedingly polite towards you; someone who was just come from the protection (a laughable phrase) of their sworn enemy. 

Your throat tightens at this. There is no honor to your presence, not anymore. 

Though you feel the prickling behind your eyes, you force your head to tilt in acknowledgment, schooling your expression to respectful - perhaps they can't quite make out your face, but Lady Jessica watches closely. She sees.

You take a sharp breath, swallowing away the lump of emotion in your throat. 

"Thank you, Duke Leto, my lord." Your voice carries steel beneath its polite, quiet veneer, though you try to calm your heart. You turn to Lady Jessica to greet her.

"My Lady, it is a pleasure." You say, equally even. Lady Jessica offers a tight smile, something akin to understanding swimming among her irises. It's been quite some time since you were permitted to talk to a woman; Your servants on Giedi Prime were, of course, tongue-less, as na-Baron wished. "Thank you for welcoming me to your home." 

"We understand that these are trying times for you." She says softly, her words a gesture of solidarity as your legs stagger. You feel dizzy and tired, but you force yourself to nod, bowing again. Your chained headdress overlaying your veil chimes slightly with the movement, swaying with the rain.

For such an acclaimed House, you're surprised by the gentleness of their welcome. Perhaps, they'd thought that the groaning and echoing hallways of Giedi Prime might break you, that they'd be taking in some injured little dove, wings clipped by the ferocious boy who'd gifted her with a knife plunged between her ribs on her nameday. 

The scar that lies just below your breast on your right side serves not as a reminder, but as fuel. It did not quell your spark. It ignited it, with a bloodthirsty rage for revenge.

Months of being thrown into a pit under the glaring black sun; Not the arena that assassinated your family, no - this pit was smaller, with one large seat for the na-Baron himself, and drugged concubines and servants with blades to service his na-Baroness. A place to watch his pets play. 

Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. 

Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn. 

Lady Jessica is correct, these are trying times for you. You swallow as you straighten your back. Despite everything, there's a minor comfort in the Atreides' insistence of providing you with the necessities for you to perform your traditional customary mourning traditions. Your family may be gone, but you can still have this part of them; as a way of saying good-bye. It's what they would have wanted. 

You turn to the young man who stands next to Lady Jessica.

The Harkonnens had tried to show you the dangers of house Atreides; The poison of appearance, of trust. You are not foolish enough to have believed the Baron Vladimir and his webs of deception, but you are sharp enough to know that in times like these, nobody can be trusted. 

Your betrothed watches you, as if trying to see through your mourning veil. The green of his eyes sends a warmth through your stomach as you avert your eyes. "My Lord," you bow to him, your heart thumping in your chest, remembering how you might be rewarded for looking your formerly betrothed in the eyes during ceremony. Trying not to flinch, you wait to see what Paul's hands may do. But they do not strike you, nor grasp your jaw sharply. He barely moves. 

"My Lady." His voice is softer than you expected, and it strikes your heart with a cool unease. Distrust slithers around you like a daunting snake. He bows back to you. 

It's silent for a thick moment before Duncan Idaho - the man from a distant past - speaks from beside you. "We have much to discuss." 

Cutting to the chase, as always. Your eyes fall to the Duke, who nods. "Do you need to see treatment?" He asks the Swordsman, eyes assessing the soldier. 

Duncan laughs at this, gesturing to his arm, where beads of blood still slowly peeks through his the tunic he'd slipped on after changing out of his armor.

"Harkonnen blades are sharp. So are Lady Bourbon's nails."

The prickling of four pairs of eyes strike you as he continues, turning this time to address you full-on. "Your fighting is much different than I remember, Little Bourbon." 

What he doesn't say is clear to you: Much more savage than he remembers. Something between shame and pride licks at your cheeks and you avert your eyes; It had been a force of habit - rabid hounds don't tuck tail when cornered, do they?

You clench your hand, your nails digging into your palms; you learned early on that sharper claws could keep Feyd tame for longer. 

The force of Duncan's old nickname for you, when you'd been young - it nearly knocks the air out of your chest. It's been over half a decade since you'd seen the man; too much has happened since then. Nonetheless, you smile toothless behind the veil, trying not to think of the life you'd just left behind. Of what cold life lies ahead. 

When you respond, your voice is frigid. 

"Sometimes adaptation is survival, Duncan Idaho. Threats demand evolution." 

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The rain is gone by the next day.

In the morning room, forks scrape over blue-plated China. There must be a clock somewhere near, as the seconds pass in quiet, insistent ticks. A cleared throat, a swallow of water. 

Your eyes burn from exhaustion.

Your arrival last night held no such time for small talk - you were whisked away by the service staff to make sure your quarters were comfortable; Your old clothing and that of your sisters and mother - the few things the Atreides soldiers had salvaged from the ransacked Castle at Sabberon - had been washed thrice of rubble and smoke and were hanging, waiting for you, in the wardrobes. 

Barely awake, late in the evening, you'd attended a meeting in a small conference hall. There, sat across from Lord Paul, Masters of War and Swords and Strategy, a Mentat, and the Lady Jessica, the Duke had asked you questions, ensuring you were not harmed - more importantly, trying to ensure there was no malicious intent to your presence. Your eyes could not ignore the Lady Jessica, who stood behind the Duke, her fingers twitching to the others when you responded to a question asked of you. They had some kind of language, you'd realized, as they responded in their own subtle hand gestures. 

You'd only been there for ten minutes before you were escorted by a handmaid back to your chambers, where you sat without rest through the night. 

Truthfully, you're breaking fast with Lady Jessica and Lord Paul out of courtesy; You were up far before the sun had found the horizon this morning, staring emotionless at the ghost who stood in the corner of your new chambers.

You'd sat watching, cradling your chest with wide eyes, as the ghost slid onto his knees. How he'd crawled, smirking at the foot of your mattress, whispering to you with sharp teeth and beckoning fingers. The sweet promise in his eyes laid with blood and pain, coaxing you forward despite yourself - until something in the corner of your vision moved, and you'd screamed. 

That had woken one of the servants.

She came in with her head tilted down, holding a pitcher of water, and you'd asked her to stay.

Her name is Hestia; she must barely be twenty. You insisted on sharing a pot of tea with her, sitting in the silence but sipping shortly on your teacups. You didn't talk much, but instead breathed and felt the safety and of a woman's company, even if she is a few years younger than you. 

It wasn't until she'd brought you breakfast a few minutes later that you realized the staff must have been informed of your courting customs before your arrival - she said nothing as you ate silently, staring out towards the coast of rocky cliffs and rolling moors you could just barely make out from your chamber windows. 

And now you sit similarly - in the morning dining room, your hands perched in your lap, unsure what to do with yourself.

Your future husband, no older than yourself, sits across the table from you now, pushing his omelet around on his fork. The table shakes just slightly, jilting your glass full of water - he must have a restless knee. He chews at his lip, avoiding your stare, sharing slight conversation with his Lady mother. Her attempts to bring you into the conversation are met with polite answers and more silence, your voice shaky and cold. 

After a while, a woman enters, whispers something to the Lady at the end of the table. Nodding, Lady Jessica takes her leave with a pointed look at Paul, suggesting he might escort you around the castle to settle you in.

Though your stomach coils, you nod, "-if you have time, my Lord, I'd appreciate it."

His eyes find yours from behind the veil and you clear your throat. He's quiet but chivalrous; A nod, a glance sent back to his mother as she leaves. A short gust of air through the room and suddenly you can smell him. His hair, clean and glossy - healthy - glints as he faces a window, exposing the early morning sun to his bright eyes.

It's silent for a few moments as only the two of you remain; Your food untouched and his half-eaten. 

"Are you one of them?" 

Them?

You stare at him from behind the thin pine veil that covers you. It occurs to you that Paul may assume you are just as bald and sick as each Harkonnen; years of adapting, surviving off of instinct and placation, are over. With a jolt, you realize you are not a Harkonnen. And you will not be wed to one.

You shake your head, thankful for the lack of chains upon the crown of your head today, ignoring the melancholy feeling in your gut. 

"I have hair." You state simply, looking down at the skin of your arm; The skin that boasts arm hair, none of the sickly pale skin that knew of no clean air nor healthy sunlight - your skin, glowing with real melanin like the House of Bourbon.

You'd never spoken this freely on Giedi Prime besides in the sole company of Feyd-Rautha - stars, you'd never have spoken this freely at home on Sabberon, either - but there is no home anymore. And if you've learned one thing in your years since coming of age, its that the Great and Noble Houses of the Landsraad are crawling with perjurers, fabricators. 

Paul is likely the same. 

If the Atreides boy must be wed to you, you cannot help that, just as you couldn't help with Feyd-Rautha. They can dress you, insist in your traditional customs - but you will not go down easy. No matter how cold the home, you can be colder. You are more than the bones which hold you up; Meaner than the demons that kept you in their ghostly-grip for four years. 

His cheeks flush a peculiar pink, bottom lip captured between pearly teeth. "No," he starts again, eyes searching - trying to find you, beneath the layers of green that wrap around you. "Not Harkonnen-" he quiets after he says the name, as if worried to offend you. "I meant-" his eyes swim, "Bene Gesserit." 

Your stomach chills as you meet his eyes. 

After some hesitation, you shake your head. "No, my Lord."

When he blinks at your words, you feel compelled to continue. "I suppose I was..." you move your hand to pull on the sleeve of your robes.

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"or, I was supposed to be." your unemotional tone rings through the room. Paul doesn't say anything to that, biting back the suspicion that climbs up his throat.

He stands when you rise from your seat; Your mourning dress, unlike anything he'd ever seen before, flows like the leaves of a weeping willow as you push your chair in behind you. When he offers a stiff arm to escort you out of the room, you hesitate before looping yourself loosely to him. 

She is telling the truth. 

His mother had indicated, with flicks of her hand, during the meeting the evening before; you, sat before the Atreides' council, unaware that his mother was reading your honesty. 

But that could be a trick; you've admitted to being partially trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, perhaps you found a way to deceive his mother. As much as he trusts Duncan and his father, he can't shake the suspicion that you're a mere pawn in the Harkonnens' game.

But his father's words burn sharply into his mind. 

Duty often requires us to navigate paths we may not have chosen for ourselves, Paul. You may not always like her, but you will treat her with the respect and care befitting of a future spouse. Love may come in other ways - but you will marry her, and together you will sire an heir when the time comes.

By decree, it was ordered you be wed to Paul, but he can't find it within himself to lose the feeling of distrust. He has spent hours learning about the Harkonnens - how they think, their strategy; and yet, from Duncan's account, the Baron and his nephew just let you go. It makes no sense to him. 

"I was supposed to be a lot of things." 

Your voice is undeniably beautiful; strong, much more resolute than he'd expected. But you are extremely cold, and evidently unwilling. Polite, yes - it seems you've been trained just as he and every other young noble of the Great Houses have - but you are calculating, aggressive.

He saw the claw marks you'd left upon Duncan; a man you've known since you were a young girl.

You walk with your chest out, back straight like a soldier; your words are cordial yet laced with steel and indifference - it only serves to deepen his unease. He guides you through the castle, murmuring quietly as he shows you along, introducing you to various members of staff who stop and bow in recognition. 

You don't say much until he escorts you to a path that winds down out of your sights; Below the castle, between jagged rocks, Paul finds himself concerned to no longer be surrounded by castle walls. Beside him, you take a deep breath, your footsteps faltering as you slow to stare at moss that sprawls across the cobblestone. 

Curiously, Paul slows to a stop beside you.

For a moment, you stare down at the dirt and fallen tree limbs, the grassy fields and rocks. Soon, as though an invisible string pulls you upwards, you snap your head, voice sheepish behind your veil. "Apologies, my Lord." You start to turn away. "I've read of plants like this, but never seen them before in person." 

Paul is suddenly struck by the realization that you may not have seen much of any flora nor fauna on Caladan. He knows what Giedi Prime is like; and your homeworld, from what he'd read last night before bed, was mostly full of Glaciers, forests, and high altitudes. Perhaps you are interested in such things; the idea surprises him. 

So instead of moving along, he finds himself bending to pull off a bit of the moss from a fallen trunk. The earthy dirt spreads between his nimble fingers, the green bright against his skin. You watch him silently.

"It absorbs up to twenty times its dry weight in water." He says it quietly, repeating what he'd learned in an ecological lesson, pushing on the spongy material with his thumb. "Banks of it grow just around the brackish tidepools outside the castle." 

Your interest, piqued, causes your head to crane slightly from your short height - he can tell, even without seeing any part of your face, that you are fascinated. "Am I allowed to see?" You ask stiffly, your arms by your sides.

An initial wave of protectiveness over his home washes over him; remembering his father's words, he forces his shoulders to relax. He lets the moss fall back to the stump, brows furrowing. 

"You are to be Lady Atreides, one day." He tries to school his voice evenly, avoiding any hint of resistance to this fact. "You do not have to ask permission to see your own land." 

The wind from the sea whips around you; his stray curls fly in his vision. There are no words from you for several very long breaths, in which you clear your throat. 

"I do not feel well, my Lord." You say moments later, voice cordial but thick with the desire to be alone, "I believe I am sick from travel. Please, if you would excuse me." 

He is unsure if he had made you uncomfortable or if you are truly feeling sick; nonetheless, Paul escorts you to your chambers silently, calling one of the handmaids - Hestia, her name is - to check on you. He insists she bring you some bread and cheese, to draw you a bath if you please. 

His jaw clenches; he's to train with his mother soon, but he needs release. His muscles clench in repressed frustration and so Paul lets his feet carry him swiftly to the training quarters.

His fingers itch for a blade; his mind itches to forget about the last day, about the cold life that lies ahead of him. 

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#paul atreides x reader #paul atreides smut #paul atreides x you #paul atreides i need you so bad #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #me and the devil; series #feyd x you #feyd smut #dune fanfiction #dune smut

[sluts4matt]

HIGHER (420 special)

pairing: bsf!nate x mixed reader

summary: you've celebrated 4/20 every year since you were sixteen with a group of your friends, this year you were bringing one of your good friends nate to the get together. what happens when things take a turn between you two

warnings: SMUT, p in v, semi-public, swearing, making out, use of weed, pet names (use of ma), praising, use of y/n

word count: 2316

authors note: this was supposed to be out last week i'm ngl, i've just been busy and did in fact celebrate 4/20 so i fell asleep before i really got any work in on it.

view my master list here

april twentieth had to be your favorite day. the day your people got together to celebrate a plant helping them with the cruel world. this year you were happy to say your best friend nate would be joining you and your friends.

you pulled the tank top over your head, looking at yourself in the mirror before grabbing your watermelon flavored lip balm that your friend nick gave you.

you opened the tube, twisting the product up some before smearing it on your lips and smacking them together.

you slid on a pair of shoes, grabbing your pink bag containing pre-rolls and dabs, grabbing your keys and exiting your house. you locked the door and climbed in the driver's seat of your car, pulling away from your house.

you pulled up to the dispensary, walking into the shop. the bell above the door jingled when you pushed it open. "my favorite - shouldn't be here - customer," a girl with curly black hair and tattoos covering her arms smiles.

"hellooo whitney," you smile, walking up to the older woman. "need a new cartridge?"

"i mean... i didn't, i came in here for more dab, i'll be out by the end of the night. but do you have the blueberry kush west coast cure cartridge since i'm here?"

whitney nodded her head, you had come in a while back looking for one, but they didn't have any in stock. "you're in luck, we just got our inventory for the month last week."

you followed the woman to the back, not that you were supposed to be there since it was employees only. "hey, y/n," a guy with a backwards hat and gages greeted.

"hey axel," you greet, stopping behind whitney as she digs through boxes. "how are the babies?"

axel grins, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. "good, my girlfriend took the week off work so she could stay with them."

"ohhh that's so nice," you say. you had seen the twins a few times, even being blessed enough to babysit for a few hours while him and his girlfriend had date night.

whitney let out a small shout of success. "here it is, now, you're going to want to start low and then work your way up. you're a light weight compared to most of our customers."

you roll your eyes at her, "i am not," you huff. "that's not what i saw last time i did your nails," the lady grinned. whitney had been your go to for nails, having practiced while she was in high school.

"whatever," you roll your eyes, following her to the front. she rung up the dab, already knowing what her favorite customer liked and a cartridge. she stopped you before you swiped your card.

you watched as she scanned her badge, giving you a 30% discount. "i'll forever be grateful," you tell her.

"you know it. enjoy, have fun," she winked.

you walked back to your car, placing the white bag in the back before backing out of the parking space. you turned your left blinker on, turning out of the driveway.

the drive to nates house wasn't long, a whopping ten minutes. you pulled up to the curb, not even having time to pull up his contact before he was walking out the door.

you unlocked the doors, nate sliding in the passenger seat. "i hope you're ready to get baked out of your mind," you joke. he let out a small chuckle, taking the grey hood he wore off of his head, leaving him in his pink beanie.

"nice beanie," you muse, pulling away from his house and towards the park.

"thanks," he mumbled. "i'm glad to be going with you, it'll be fun," he smiles. "mhm," you hum, pulling up to the park fifteen minutes later. you turned your blinker on, turning into the parking lot before taking a parking space next to your friend sadies jeep.

"ready?"

"yep," nate replied, climbing out of the car.

you pulled your bag from the back, slinging it over your shoulder and grabbing the white bag before shutting the door. "heyyy," sadie and her girlfriend, emma, greeted getting out of her jeep.

"hey hey," you grinned, the two girls hugging you. "we were waiting for you guys," sadie informed. you nodded your head, starting the small walk towards the group of people.

you had met sadie a few years ago, her girlfriend emma being a family friend of yours. nate had joined the group some months back, the two of you running into each other at dunkin and immediately hit it off.

"hey guys," you greet, everyone saying their hellos. "well let's get the party started then," a girl with dyed red hair stated, pulling a lighter from her bra as she lit up the blunt she had held between her fingers.

a few hours into the gathering, you were happily baked.

you sat between nate and sadie, nates hand wrapped around your waist in order to provide some form of heat for you as you ate the watermelon popsicles someone had brought.

you sucked the tip of it into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. nate coughed next to you, you pulled the tip out with a pop, looking at him as he took a deep breath.

"are you okay?" you question, handing him the popsicle. he grabbed it, nodding his head. "i'm good," he choked out.

"alrighty then," you laugh, reaching up and grabbing his beanie, putting it on your own head. you stood, stretching and cracking your joints as you did so. you held your hand out to nate, "wanna take a walk?"

he grabbed your hand, allowing you to help him stand. you turned to your friends, letting them know where the two of you were going, emma and sadie wiggling their eyebrows.

you grabbed your bag, throwing it over your shoulder as the two of you started walking, nates hand still holding yours.

"i'm glad you came with me today," you admit, leaning against him.

"so am i," he agrees. the two of you walk in silence, enjoying each others company. you reach a large tree, nate letting go of your hand to climb up it.

"actually?" you giggle, watching the boy jump to wrap his arms around a branch. he looked down at you, a small grin on his face. "come on."

you set your bag on the ground, grabbing a hold of the branch and jumping. nate caught your ankle, helping you climb into the tree. "what are we doing in a tree," you question, leaning against him.

he took the beanie off of your head, putting it on his own. "because i like trees," he shrugs. "oh yeah," you giggle, resting your head on his shoulder. you sit in a comfortable silence, the air around the two of you growing tense.

nate leaned his head against yours, turning his head some so his lips were closer to your ear. "i'm really glad we became friends," he admitted, nudging the side of your neck with his nose.

"me too," you sigh, smiling.

he pressed a small kiss to the side of your neck, making your smile grow. "i'm glad to hear," he mumbled, placing another kiss.

you felt a small amount of heat pool in the pit of your stomach. "we should probably get down," you mumbled, pushing the feeling down.

"probably," he mumbled. you both stood, nate dropping from the tree first. he held his arms up, his hands wrapping around your calves, sliding up as you slid down.

your legs wrapped around his torso as you slid, in hopes to stabilize yourself more as you slid.

the two of you fell back onto the ground, nates hand coming to rest on your back as you laid on top of him. you let out a small gasp, nate's breath fanning your face as the two of you laughed.

"are you okay?" you giggle, lifting your head up some to look down at the boy. "never better," he grins, his eyes flickering from yours to your lips.

he lifted his head up some, pressing his lips to yours quickly before he could talk himself out of it.

you kissed back, his hand moving to grip the back of your neck. his thumb rubbed soothing circles, the kiss not being rushed. you pulled back, looking at him. "can we go to your house?"

"please."

you pushed yourself off of him, helping him up. you grabbed your bag, taking his hand and guiding him back to the party. "hey guys," you smile, catching the attention of the group.

"hey," a few greeted. "hey, um, we're going to head out," nate stated.

"ooohh," sadie grinned, a smirk on her face. "die," you point, earning a giggle from her. "i love youuuu," she yells as you walk away. "i love you too," you yell back, laughing.

the walk to your car was quiet, the two of you walking slowly. you stopped at the passenger side door, opening it for him. "such a gentlewoman," he grins, you rolling your eyes.

you slid into the drivers seat, buckling and starting the car. you pulled away from the park, nate resting his hand on your thigh. his thumb running circles on your thigh.

the air in the car was thick with sexual tension, your breathing a little heavy. nate slid his hand further up, his fingertips grazing your core.

"this okay?" he asked, noticing you let out a shakey breath. "yeah," you breathed, gripping the steering wheel harder.

his finger ran down your core, a small groan escaping his throat. "fuck," he muttered.

"what?" you questioned, glancing at him.

"you're soaking."

you let out a small whine, biting your lip. "pull over," he groaned.

"wha- why," you stutter. "because i don't think i can wait until we get to my house," he mumbles. you bite your lip, pulling off into a hidden part of the road.

"turn the car off," he mumbles, pulling his seatbelt off and sliding his seat as far back as it would go. you turn the car off, undoing your seatbelt and shifting to straddle his lap.

you leaned forward, attaching your lips to his. his hands gripped your waist, his hips bucking up to meet yours. "fuck, can't wait to be inside you," he groaned, kissing along your jaw.

you ground down against him, the two of you moaning in unison. nate slid his hand between the two of you, pushing your skirt up as he undid his pants.

he pulled his member out, stroking it a few times before pushing your underwear to the side. he groaned, your slick coating the head. "fuck, so wet," he groaned.

"all for you," you whispered, nipping his earlobe. he pushed you down, the head pushing into your entrance. "fuck," you squeaked shoving your face into his neck.

"oh shit," he moaned, your walls hugging him. he pulled your shirt and bra cup down, his mouth connecting to one of your nipples.

"fuck, nate," you whined, pulling his beanie off and grabbing his hair. his tongue flicked your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive nub.

he thrust his hips up, a cry escaping your mouth. "i'm sorry," he muttered, not stopping the shallow thrusts.

"fuck," you cried, the coil in the pit of your stomach tightening. "m'close," you moan. "already?" he grinned cockily, a moan escaping his own lips as you tightened around him.

you nodded your head, biting your lip and looking away from him. his hand grabbed your chin, pulling your head to face him. "let me hear that pretty voice," he cooed, thrusting up into you.

your hands rested on his shoulders, his thrusts speeding up. "fuck nate," you moaned. "right there," you cry, throwing your head back.

nate grinned, "right there ma?" he teased, his teeth connecting to your exposed neck. he thrusted into the spot, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"fuck," you moaned, the coil in your stomach snapping. your orgasm hit, your body shaking in his grasp.

"that's it," he encouraged. he kissed along your jaw, his hips working you through your orgasm.

"wait, shit," you moaned, his thrusts not faltering.

"why," he questioned, a small frown on his face. "cause... i'll cum again," you stutter. "okay, and?" he teased, biting his lip and smirking.

"oh," you moaned, leaning against him. he grabbed your ass, bouncing you in his lap. you leaned forward, connecting your lips to his.

he squeezed your ass, your walls clenching around him. "gonna make me cum," he breathed, his hips speeding up. you bounced with him, your breasts in his face. he kissed the tops of them, his lips moving across the skin.

"nate, oh my god," you moaned, throwing your head back. "so pretty," he breathed, his lips sucking a hickey into the skin above your nipple. "nate," you warned, your second orgasm approaching.

"cum for me," he ordered, his fingers digging into your waist.

you clenched around him, your second orgasm hitting. his hips stuttered, the coil in his stomach snapping as he shot his seed into you. the two of you panted, trying to catch your breaths.

he pressed his lips to yours, his hand roughly tangling in your hair. "so pretty," he murmured, pulling away and kissing along your neck. "such a pretty girl," he breathed, kissing your jaw.

"oh god," you breathed, your heart rate speeding up. nate smiled against your neck, pulling away and pressing his lips to yours. "so pretty," he breathed.

you bit your lip, sliding off his lap and adjusting your bra and skirt. nate tucked himself back in his pants, a blush on his cheeks. "wanna go to your place," you questioned, a shy smile on your face.

"absolutely," he grins. you start the car, buckling and backing out.

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

was I the asshole for beating the shit out of my classmate(s)?

I (14F) have endured bullying for some years now. I've told my parents, my older brother, my grandparents, my teachers and my favorite aunt. nothing has been done, and if anything asking for help and not receiving it has made me feel much worse because I've felt stupid for thinking I could trust anyone with this

its been getting so bad that for the last 6 months or so I've been waking up with intense panic attacks every day and I would refuse to move. my mom would berate me and drag me to school anyway. literally dragging me by pulling me because I would not move

so the other day she dropped me by at school and I had another panic attack in the hallway. a teacher found me and instead of helping me he forcefully took me to class. I literally begged him to at least give me a moment so I would calm down and he said no. he took me to class to make sure I would walk in and I did, still having a panic attack. this only made my classmates laugh at me even more. particularly one girl and one boy who are the worst so when I walked by them I snapped and I started punching them, pulling their hair, grabbing a heavy book and hitting them with it.... I thought I couldn't hit hard at all but I must have been really angry bc the guy started bleeding from his nose and the girl started bleeding from her lip after accidentally biting it while I was hitting her

suddenly the school staff decided to get off their asses. no action was taken when I needed help but now they just happen to agree that violence is unacceptable. only physical violence tho bc harassing and psychologically abusing other students is ok. Ive been temporarily kicked out of school so clearly they can intervene, I just wonder how come they didnt do it sooner

my classmates were comparing me to school shooters on social media. I blocked their ass but I want to see whether they are right or if I shouldve hit them harder. I have never hit anyone before but I was real tired of their shit. I'm the one who faced consequence and not them so aita?

#aita #am i the asshole

[lynnsadventur]

You finally finished your senior year of cheerleading. All the hard work you put in is starting to overtake you emotionally as you walk through the hallway towards the locker room for the last time. It's a bittersweet feeling.

Your eyes are a bit misty, and even though you've made this walk hundreds of times, the eerily quiet halls of the vacant school undistracting, you end up in the boys locker room. By the time you reach what should be your locker you realize what you did.

You turn around to try and leave but coming in the door are the three football coaches. A little buzzed from their celebratory end of season drinks...

*******************

*Shit, shit shit!*

I scramble quickly into the adjacent shower room to avoid the approaching football coaches. I silently chastise myself as I hear the laughing coaches enter the locker room.

*I made it four years!* I think to myself, with my back pressed against the community shower wall. *Four years without making a fool out of myself, now here I am, trapped in the boys locker room! How could I have been so stupid?*

*Maybe they'll leave. Just come in to drop things off, then they'll head home ... Vanessa, what were you thinking?*

Click! The sound of beer cans opening echo through the locker room as the coaches cheer to another successful season. They weren't leaving anytime soon, and there was no way out past them.

I silently stand there, wishing that my absurd situation would just go away. The coaches start talking about the last game, their favorite players, prospects for the next season, and their least favorite players. Time seemed to go on forever, as they reminisced about their former days of football glory.

"Hey Tim," one of the other coaches called out. "Tell George about that chick you fucked, back in our Senior year of varsity."

I could hear him laugh loudly, clear his throat, and answer with a deep voice. "Who, Teresa? Come on, Steve. Alright, alright. Oh man, you won't believe this. So, it's homecoming, right? We're down 13 in the end of the second. Not the best for homecoming game, right? Well, half time rolls around and the homecoming procession is going to start in an hour. A lot of the candidates for queen were cheerleaders, so they had to be given some time to change into their dresses, all that. So, I head back to the locker room, figuring I'd freshen up, get my head back in the game. The other players stuck around the field. So, I get in there, and find, none other but Teresa, standing at the mirror!"

The coaches laugh, and George, the one who apparently was hearing this for the first time, says "What the fuck? What was she doing in there?"

"Well, see, apparently all the mirrors were taken in the ladies room. She figured that since all of the guys were out on the field, so she had it all to herself. So, here I am, football stud, standing alone in the locker room with the hottest girl in school, can you guess what happened?"

Steve starts to laugh as Tim pounds his fist rhythmically into his hand. "Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm, mmmmm! Fuck yeah, bitch!" George joins the laughter as Tim mimics the girl's voice. "Yeah, T, give me that big black cock!"

I peek my head around to see Tim scooting along the benches, humping the air as if he was fucking the girl all over the place, as the other two coaches' chuckling erupts into roaring throes of laughter. My eyes get wide as I slip back behind the wall.

"Man," Tim adds as he opened another beer. "She went on to win homecoming queen, but me? Man, I was literally floating on that field! Won that game with MVP, and that night is when I got scouted by Stanford. So, I have Teresa's tight and white pussy to thank for my football successes!"

The three men continue laughing as a couple of beers are opened again. I silently sigh, roll my head back, and squeeze my eyes shut, as if I could just wish myself out of this room. I knew guys could be nasty, but I was surprised to hear the coaches raunchiness.

"Fuckin' cheerleaders, man." Steve interjects. "Have you seen the ones we got this year? The varsity? Holy fuck!"

George laughs and chimes in. "Yeah, man, girls today are something else. Maybe it's the outfits, but they just look ... fucking hot!"

"I know! And they're nasty as hell! You listen to the team in the locker room, and what some of those 'young, innocent girls' be doin'? They'd be putting that girl Teresa to shame!" Tim resumes his impression of fucking, while pretending to spank the air over and over again.

"Well, let's play a little game. Marry, fuck, kill. Cheerleading varsity squad." My eyes widen. My heart begins to race. I've already heard too much, and the coaches had no intention of leaving any time soon. *How am I going to get out of this?*

Steve goes first. "Okay. First, kill. Brittany." The men all simultaneously groan. "She's fat, ugly, and a bitch. I mean, you gotta choice on at least one of those things, damn!" The men laugh in agreement. "Ok, now for fuck. Part of me wants to say Megan, you know, word in the locker room is she gives great head, and her body is alright, but ... fuuuuuck, have you seen that blonde one? Vanessa?"

I let out a sharp gasp and hold my breath. I don't think they heard me.

"Yeah man, that girl is ... she's the whole fucking package. Full tits, nice ass, she's super lean, and God! She's got a nice camel toe. You guys seen it during those jumps? Those shorts under her skirt fit nice and snug over that juicy pussy!"

I cover my crotch with one hand and open my mouth in indignation. I hide behind the wall, silently, listening intently to their conversation.

"You know, word is she's still a virgin." George replies. "I know, that's why I'd fuck her! What if she's no good? I know Megan can give good head, so I'll just marry her. Great blowjobs for life! If Vanessa turned out to be a freak, I'd keep her as a side chick."

I can't believe what I was hearing. It wasn't quite true, but close enough. I had one guy, fairly small, who popped my cherry in sophomore year. It was over in a few seconds, and we broke up soon after when he moved away. No one since then.

George speaks up. "Okay, kill?" They all speak in unison. "Brittany."

George chuckles. "Yup, who else. Marry? That Asian chick. She's got a tight little body, great for tossing around. Plus, I love some good Chinese food."

Tim chuckles and retorts, "She's Japanese man."

"Alright fine, I'll buy her a fucking Chinese cookbook, are you happy?" They all laugh gregariously. "And fuck? That girl Vanessa. Man, she is hot! She's got a porn star's body. I love that short blonde hair, just long enough to grab but short enough to see her shoulders ... and I bet you that bitch has some pent up sexual tension in her. I'd like to fuck that out of her!"

"Alright, Tim, you're up." He sighs and thinks about it for a moment. "Okay, blowjob girl, what's her name? Megan? Okay. So, I marry Megan, right? Stay married for a while, keep getting that nasty head for a year or two. Then I fuck Vanessa." The other two groan at hearing the same choice for all three.

"Hold on, hold on now. I'm not done. So, I fuck Vanessa, right? Then, after I show Vanessa the ropes, I kill my wife, ehhh, what her name again? Blow job girl. Then I fucking marry Vanessa!"

They all erupt into loud laughter as Tim continues while laughing, "No way I can just fuck that tight white ass once! Fuck man, and those titties on that girl? She looks like a God damn model!"

I stand there, in the darkness of the showers, wide eyed with my mouth hanging open. I couldn't believe what I was hearing! Three grown men, objectifying my body. So many feelings were rushing through me; indignation, dread at being discovered, fear of losing my reputation ... and something else. I felt ... vibrant. My nipples felt swollen. My pussy felt an ache, a sort of unfamiliar yearning, that I couldn't quite explain.

The guys continue to talk, and I feel a chill as the sun disappears from the locker room window past the men. I was only wearing my cheerleading outfit; a top that ended above my belly button, and a skirt that ended just below the athletic booty shorts the coaches were leering about earlier. I slip off my tennis shoes to tiptoe around the shower room, see if I could devise another way out. I sneak further onwards along the wall -

The motion activated lights that had previously not detected me blasted on with a blinding florescent whiteness. I gasp loudly and reach for the wall as I inadvertently grab the shower handle ... which then turns on and blasts me with ice cold water! I scream loudly in shock.

"AHHHHHH! Oh God, no!" I slip on the slick floor and fall ungraciously onto my back, still under the jet of cold water. I lie there, gasping and sputtering as the shockingly frigid water blasts my face.

"What the fuck is that?!" One of the coaches yells out. I hear them all jump up to investigate as I whimper, mortified, sprawled out on the ground.

Steve pops his head into the shower room and whispers, "oh fuck." Tim and George appear at the entrance as well. "Hey, that's Vanessa, fuck." They murmur to each other. Tim steps up.

"Hey, are you okay?!" He calls out. He turns off the water as I pant, still in shock from the icy blast and the bright lights.

Steve crouches down next to me. "What in the hell are you doing here?! This is the -"

"Men's locker room, I know." I retort, with a fair amount of attitude in my tone. I slowly try to get up and slip back down onto my butt. Tim chuckles a bit and helps me up by the shoulders.

"How long have you been in here?" George asks, a hint of concern on his face. I shoot him a venomous scowl and reply, "Long enough." The other coaches exchange glances as I pick up my shoes. "I heard you, talking about looking up my skirt, being gross about my body, just ..." I sigh as I start for the door.

"Look, I just want to go. I just want to forget about everything I just heard and - woah!" I slip backwards again, this time Tim catches my fall, his strong arms wrapped around me.

"Nuh - uh, no way." Tim replies as he spins me around to face him. "We caught you sneaking around, off hours, in the men's locker room. There's a lot of expensive equipment in here ... pads, helmets; what, were you stealing?" The other coaches gives Tim a quizzical look, and he waves them off.

Indignantly, I push his arms off of me. "No! Why would I do that?! What could I possibly gain from some old smelly equipment?"

Steve chimes in, obviously understanding the angle Tim was working. "I don't know, you tell us. Were you looking for some old smelly equipment? Maybe some jock straps to smell. Sounds perverted, what if the student body found out about your ... fetish?" Steve smiled with a devilish grin. I stare at him incredulously.

George stood by the entrance to the shower, arms folded. He was looking at me, as if I was a piece of meat. I glance down at myself, and see my wet uniform plastered to my skin, showing more of my stomach and thighs than usual. I return his gaze.

"How old are you, Vanessa?" George asks, an ominous air about him. I nervously stroke a strand of hair and put it behind my ears. "Ermm... eighteen." I should've lied, but I didn't.

The men chuckle, as I glance around, shifting my feet nervously. "Oh yeah?" George says, pulling out his keys from his pocket. "When did you turn eighteen?"

I glare at him. "Day before yesterday." George looks at the other coaches, and with a knowing smirk, flips his keys in the air and starts to whistle cheerfully as he went to the entrance of the locker room. I hear the key enter the lock and click. That click seemed to echo through the locker room louder than anything else.

Tim steps closer behind me, much closer than what was comfortable. "You know, Vanessa, you might be in a lot of trouble." I feel his hand graze the back of my thigh, just below my cheek. I shudder, and begin to cry.

"There, there," Steve says as he approaches me from the front. "We can work this out. You don't have to cry. Here, let's help you relax, then we'll talk it over. Hey, George?"

"Already on it!" He calls out as he comes around the corner with a bottle of Jameson in hand. He pours some into a small Dixie cup and passes it to Steve.

He turns to me and offers the drink. I've never had whiskey before. In fact, I have never been drunk. The most I've had was a sip of champagne at a wedding, but other than that, nothing. Steve sensed my hesitation. "It will help you relax, V. Can i call you V? Take this and we'll come up with a solution to our predicament.

I stare at him, nostrils flared and my fists balled up. I see right through his charade. I yelp when Tim reaches down and roughly grabs a handful of my ass. "Drink it." He states with a serious tone.

He continues to squeeze my ass as I shakily reach for the cup. I swirl the contents nervously as Steve nods. I first take a sip and sputter and cough. "Ugghhh, woah! It's awful!" "That's because you have to down it, V! Try it again."

I take the cup and swill it back. It burns as it goes down my throat. Steve tops it off as I stare at him incredulously. "Just one more, Vanessa." I drink it all at once and throw down the Dixie cup, still glaring into Steve's eyes.

Tim releases his grip on my cheek and chuckles. George rejoins the group as the three grown men stand facing me, arms crossed. I try to match their intimidation, but start to shiver uncontrollably from the wetness of my clothes.

Tim speaks up. "Where do you want to go to college, Vanessa?" I look at him, confused at the question. I start to feel a strange buzz in my head. "Uhm, I don't know. I'd like a UC ... but, that's expensive."

"What about cheer? You want to keep doing that?" Tim asks, pacing back and forth.

"Well, yeah. But it's hard to get in the better schools. Our cheer team doesn't place that high."

They laugh. "Girl, you have everything it takes to be a good cheerleader. You're gorgeous, you're athletic, you really have what it takes. And I have connections. Tell me, what do you think about Stanford?"

I gulp nervously. Stanford was my dream school, but I didn't have the money, grades, or cheer team status to get in. "I uhh ... I really like it."

Tim purses his lips and nods knowingly. "It's a good school. What if I told you, I could get you in? Full ride. Right into the cheer squad?"

My mouth opens. That sounded ... amazing! But I couldn't buy it. I continue to stare at him wordlessly.

"Because you see, my coach, back in my football days, is now the dean of the athletic department. And, he owes me a favor. I could call in that favor, guarantee your full ride scholarship ... but, the thing is, you've got to earn it."

I bite my lip, and draw my finger along it in thought. My lip felt funny, almost numb and tingly. In fact, my whole body felt that way. I couldn't think clearly. "My head, I ... feel funny."

The three men chuckle as they approach me. "She's a lightweight! Have you ever drank before?" Steve asks.

I shake my head no. George looks around and says, "wow, you really are a good girl."

Tim, who was standing directly in front of me, takes my chin in his fingers. "So, how about it, V? Want to earn that scholarship?" I weakly nod yes, a tear dripping down my face, mixing with the water droplets from the shower. "What do I have to do?"

George turns on the adjacent shower head. "First things first, Vanessa. You're cold. Get out of those wet clothes and take a nice hot shower."

I nod gratefully as Steve passes me a towel. I hook it on and walk to the shower. The water is already nice and warm. I turn around, halfway expecting to have some privacy. Then I realize; they want to watch me shower.

"Are ... are you going to watch me?" I ask sheepishly. The three of them laugh and tom says, "Yeah. Yeah, we're going to watch you."

*okay, this is not so bad* I think to myself. *i just strip down for them, they watch me take a shower, and they let me go.* The scholarship crosses my mind. I sincerely doubt it exists, but what other choice do I have? There was only one way out of this.

The three men confer with each other. I saw them gesturing to me, whispering under their breath. I stand there, arms crossed on my chest, shivering. I think about the three men just watching me as I shower. Leering at my butt, probably my breasts too. I want to get this over with.

"So, should I, like, start or something?" They turn to me, and George breaks from the group, nods to the other coaches, and stands by my shower head. "Be our guest!" He retorts.

I turn to face the other two men and bite my lip. I trace my thumbs along the waistband of my skirt and start to pull down.

"Nope." George says. He pulls me under the warm water. "You're already wet, undress under the water."

I stumble slightly, a little woozy from the whiskey. I resume pulling down my skirt, careful to leave my booty shorts on. As it slides over my hips, I let it fall down, and bracing against the wall, I kick it off with one foot.

"Good," says Tim. "Now, turn around, place your hands on the wall, look back at us, and shake your ass."

I do as he says. Standing straight up, I turn around and gently shake it. George laughs and very suddenly blasts the cold water from the shower. I jump and squeal!

"AHHH! Cold! Why?" I shiver under the water as he warms it back up.

"Like Tim said, you've got to earn this." Steve says. "Arch your back. Bend at the waist. Stick your ass out and sway it back and forth. Put on a show! I know you do it in the mirror at home." He winks at me.

He wasn't wrong. I know I'm beautiful. Even though I'm popular, I'm very shy with the guys. I'm much more conservative than most girls my age ... old fashioned, even. I always believed in the dream of finding a soul mate, and getting married. Every time I danced seductively in my mirror, I imagined doing it for him ... not these creeps.

I do as he says. I close my eyes as I sway back and forth. I gyrate my hips around in a circle, spread my legs then dip down low until my butt touches my ankles, before coming back up again. The men stare wordlessly at me as I continue to dance.

I feel so different. My buzz from the whiskey makes everything so hazy. I turn back around, and slowly remove my cheerleading top. All I'm wearing is my sports bra and booty shorts. I keep dancing, swaying back and forth. I try to imagine how a stripper would move.

*Is that all I am to them? Just a stripper?*

They continue to stare at me, and I reach up and grab at my sports bra. Turning red, I pull it off over my head, and let it fall to the ground.

The guys' mouth hung open. Tim whispers, "holy shit!" Greg comes around and stares at me. "Best. Rack. I've seen."

I blush and look down. He wasn't wrong. I knew I had amazing breasts. I was fortunate enough to develop early, and I developed perfect, shapely, full c cup breasts that caught many an eye. My nipples are small and perky, and I feel a rush of pride in the midst of my shame.

I look back up. The three man are staring at me expectantly. I continue my seductive dance as I run my hands up and down my wet body. Swaying my hips back and forth, I take my breasts into my hands and play with my nipples. They are perky and hard, and I let out a soft gasp as I surprise myself with the sensation. I continue with my show, crouching low again, lowering my hands over my abs. My knees are spread apart, pointing to the sides of me. I see their eyes drift down to the imprint of my pussy. They chuckle and start talking amongst one another.bite my lip nervously as I watch them conferring with one another. Tim looks at me and motions me over.

"Come here." I get up and timidly take a step backwards, towards the wall. I yelp as George blasts some more icy water on me and I fall to my knees. I sputter and shiver as the water cascades over my face. George slowly turns it off, as I kneel there, arms crossed under my chest, I notice that I am displaying my breasts even more fully than before by cradling them in my arms.

George comes up behind me and lifts me up under my arms. As I stumble to my feet and regain balance, I feel him slip his hands further in front of me. I gasp as he aggressively squeezes my breasts and pulls me into him from behind.

"Ahh, no! What are you doing?!" I cry out as he squeezes them together roughly. He laughs as I clasp my hands in protest over his. As I pull at his hands, he quickly reaches up and slaps me in the face! Not hard, but it was enough to stop me in my tracks. I stand there in dazed amazement, nursing my slightly red cheek as he continues his barrage on my breasts.

"Mmmmfph! Ow! You're hurting me!" I squirm under his rough embrace as George pinches my nipples, rolling them in between his fingers. Thankfully, Tim calls out to George in a deep voice.

"Bring her here, man." Tim motions us over as George walks us to him. As George releases me, I look back and glare at him coldly, before a shudder runs through my body. Tim, standing in front of me, begins tracing his hands over the outline of my naked torso. First, he starts at my neck. There is a mixture of force and gentleness as he caresses my neck, gently wrapping his thumbs around. I whimper as he squeezes gently. Tim was much more intimidating than George, and i look away, tears in my eyes. Just as quickly, he releases my neck and rubs his hands down my shoulders. His strong hands push down, massaging my them. My eyes drift shut slightly as I let out a shaky sigh.

He runs his fingers along my spine, massaging my back muscles as he continues his journey of exploration lower. Almost enraptured, I lean back and softly place a hand on his chest, as he traces the small of my back. I close my eyes and -

"Whoa- uhhhm ... what are you doing?" Tim slips his fingers down under my waistband, his index finger following the line of my crack. I stutter shakily as I feel it press in between my cheeks. "I'm ... err, I - not ... not, I just - oh!" He presses more firmly, intruding further between my ass crack. I tense up. Sensing my hesitation, his hand slides to the side, squeezing my bare ass cheek underneath my shorts. "Ha-oh ... ahhhhh ..." I moan as he massages my cheek.

He slips his hand out and takes a step back. I stand there for a moment, shaking. I've been humiliated and groped by these men, and as Tim and George joined Steve at the bench along the wall, I breathe a sigh of relief. *They're done with me. The got what they wanted.* I turn back to the shower and take the towel, clasping it around me to hide my naked chest. I bend down to pick up my sports bra.

"Where do you think you are going?" Steve calls out. I turn back around and stammer, "I-I ... I thought you were, like, done, with me." The three of them chuckle, and Tim steps up and pulls the towel off. I instinctively cover up. "Put your hands at your sides." Steve orders. I do it, shifting nervously from side to side.

Tim, Steve, and Greg sit on the bench as I stand before them. "You know how to make out, right?" Tim asks, taking the bottle of Jameson. I nod. He takes a swig and doesn't swallow, and motions me over to him.

I step in front of him, and he pulls me in aggressively for a kiss. I moan as our lips meet. His strong arms wrap around me as I straddle him, knees on the bench. He pushes some of the whiskey into my mouth, which i swallowed. I felt his tongue exploring my mouth, and I let out an involuntary moan. My breathing quickens as his hands move from my back to my ass. He squeezes me like before, this time with both hands. It surprisingly feels good.

"Ohhhhhh ..." my voice trails off as Tim leans me back and sucks on one of my nipples. As soon as his tongue dances over it, I yelp. "AHHH! Ooohhhh, mmmmm."

It feels good. Really good. I've never felt like this before. Tim moved to my other nipple and sent a similar jolt through me. I find myself caressing his shaved head as I bask in the moment.

Just as quickly as it began, Tim let my nipple pop out of his mouth and he passed me to Steve.

I stood in front of him, waiting for direction. Steve was physically fit, like Tim, but a little bit more on the lean side. He turns me around and lowers my still clothed ass onto his lap. He reaches around and pulls me into him by holding my breasts. He cups each with his hand and whispers in my ear, "dance for me."

I've never done a lap dance before, but I try my best. I dance like I did under the water. He obviously wants a little more contact, and he pulls me fully onto his lap. I straddle my legs around his, and bracing myself with my arms on the bench, I lean forward and grind on his lap.

I can hear him panting as I gyrate my hips on him. I also feel a growing bulge as I continue to dance. I let out a slight gasp and pause as I glance back to him. He smiles knowingly and smacks my ass, eliciting a yelp from me. I worry that these men wanted more than groping.

George stands in front of me, whiskey in hand. "Here. Another sip." He feeds me the bottle and I try to take a small swig, but he keeps tilting it towards me. I take a solid two gulps before George pulls back. "Can't have you getting sick on us! How do you feel?"

I look up groggily into his face. "I, uhmmm, I feel ... mmmmstrange ..."

George squats down in front of me and looks me in the eye. He is slightly older than the other two, and not in as good of shape. He grabs me by the hair and kisses me deeply, almost desperately. I feel his tongue swirling around my mouth.

In the meantime, I'm still grinding on Steve. I can feel his groping hands pulling at my breasts as his bulge gets harder. I feel so violated.

George pulls back, and I feel Steve gently push me off of him to my knees. As George stands up, I can see a bulge in his pants as well.

"Tell me Vanessa," he asks. Have you ever seen a dick before?" My eyes close as I fully realize the direction the night was headed. Reluctantly, I nod. "Probably a boys penis, am I right?" I nod again. "So, what, how big do you think it was? Show me with your hands."

I think back to my one and only sexual experience. I knew from stories that he was smaller than average. I placed my hands about 3, maybe 4 inches apart and displayed my measurement to him.

"So, did you fuck him?" Groggily, I nod my head, then frown and shake it. "I uhhmm ... he entered me, and he uhmmm, he ..."

"He what? Say it." George became more stern.

"I, uh, I don't know how to put ..."

"Fucking say it!" He says forcefully, yanking on my hair a bit as I kneel in front of him.

"AHH!" I cry out, a tear dripping down my face. "Well?" He asks. I look up at him, defeated. My mouth hangs open, as I work up the courage to say the words.

"He popped my ... cherry."

"Oh, he did, did he? With what?"

"He popped my cherry with his dick." My lip quivers in embarrassment as I look down.

"How long did he last?"

"Uhmm, not long. He didn't even fully enter me -"

"That's not what I asked." George says, clicking his tongue in disappointment.

"Fifteen, maybe twenty seconds?"

Greg pulls back a bit and laughs. "That's it? And you haven't had anyone else?"

I lower my eyes further and shake my head back and forth. George shrugs and looks back at the other guys. "Virginal enough for me."

"So ... did you suck him off?" George asks, pulling at my hair enough for my to lift my eyes.

"Umm, what?"

"Blowjob. Did you give him a blowjob?"

I pause and answer. "Well, no ... not him."

George chuckles and looks at me inquiringly, tugging at my hair as if expecting an explanation.

"I mean, I've practiced before. You know, on, uhh, fruit and stuff. Carrots, uhmmm, my toothbrush ..." my voice trails off as I see George holding back laughter. He looks at the other guys, who were well behind my view, and they all chuckled.

"What did I tell you?" George reports. "Pent up sexual tension." With that, George begins to pull on his zipper. I stare wordlessly, in a state of shock and resignation, as he pulls his pants down and his dick springs free. Wide eyed, I stare at this grown man's dick swinging in front of my face. It wasn't much longer than my first partner's dick. In fact, it was pretty comparable. He had maybe an inch longer, perhaps just shy of five inches. It looked different. There was curly pubic hair, and a number of veins running up and down it. The head was a purple hue, and a drop of clear fluid was collecting at the tip.

"Well, what do you think?" George swings his member back and forth close to my face. A drop of the fluid swings off and lands on my shoulder.

I look up at him quizzically. He strokes his throbbing dick once, squeezing out some more fluid and smearing it on my forehead. I could smell his salty, masculine scent.

"What are you going to do right now?" Even in the whiskey induced fog, I know his game. And I have to play along. I resign to my fate, as I take my finger, swipe off some of the fluid on his cock, and taste it with my tongue.

"I'm going to suck your hard cock."

A gleeful cheer comes from the two behind me. "There she is!" Exclaims Tim, as him and Steve exchange a high five.

George takes the base of his dick and guides it to my lips. I close my eyes tightly as my mouth makes contact with the tip. I slowly slide forward as his head fully parts my lips. He leans back his head and moans.

It tastes salty. I tilt my head back and pull backwards, running my tongue on the underside of his dick. I feel a shudder as it runs along the edge of the head.

*Okay, the head is the most sensitive. I'll focus on that.*

I twirl my tongue around him, while slightly bobbing my head. I thought of how sexy I looked when I blew a banana in the mirror. I run my tongue between his foreskin, and tease the head all around its edge. He jumps and moans with pleasure.

*He likes that. Keep doing that.*

I continue my pace as I feel his dick swell in my mouth. George begins to slightly thrust forward, and I could feel him going deeper in my mouth.

"Mmmmmph ... mmmmm ... mmmmmphhh." I moan, with a mouthful of dick. I feel so violated, so vulnerable ... but, a part of me, well, I can't say I enjoy this, but ... I'm intrigued. I place my hands gently on his thighs as he begins to thrust forward with a rhythm. I feel his shaft sliding in my mouth as the ridges of his head rubs toward the back. I frown a bit and pull my head off of him a little bit, yet he responds by forcefully pulling my head deeper!

"Wheeehh! - *cough* " my throat makes a gagging sound as his head presses firmly against the back of my throat. I make a wretching sound as I cough and sputter, thick spit shooting out of the side of my mouth. I angle my forehead against his body to try to get relief, but he begins to thrust into me!

"Gluh - gluh - gluh - gluh" my throat makes a sound each time he pulls back, and he cuts it off every time he pushes forward. Tears are running down my face from the intensity of a dick in my throat. I slap his thighs desperately, trying to get him to stop. He finally relents, allowing me to fall back to the bench. I gasp for air and wipe my face, as I look at him, wide eyed, with an expression of betrayal. I cough and sputter a few times, a thick line of spit coming from my nose.

"Now jack it off." George states, placing his legs on either side of me. I reach up with one hand and hesitantly grab his dick, my own spit draping around my forearm. I'm still panting for breath, as he continues to advance closer to my face while my hand strokes him. I cringe as he thrusts, trying to increase my rhythm, and his sloppy dick pushes out through my fist and pokes my face. "Suck it again." George growls. Reluctantly, I slide my lips over his head once more, this time keeping my hand on his shaft. He continues to pump harder into me, but this time, I keep him from going too deep. Thankfully, he seems satisfied with my hand in front of my mouth, stroking him completely.

George then removes himself from my mouth, stepping back and grinning as he grasps his wet dick. I wipe my chin as Steve speaks up.

"Alright, my turn" calls out Steve, who was still seated on the bench, now next to me. I look over and gasp. He has removed all of his clothing, and was reclined on the bench. Resting against his fit abs was a long and straight dick, pulsing and twitching every second. I stare at it in amazement. Steve smiles and says "you like it?"

The truth was, I kind of did. He was longer than George, maybe above 6 inches. But it was more than that. His dick was very ... attractive. It appeared to be well trimmed, and it was very sleek and smooth. He had nice, shapely balls draping down beneath his appealing member. He motions me over, and I stand up - only to freeze in my tracks.

Tim was also naked. His muscles rippled as he moved around. He watched my reaction as I stared, wide eyed with my mouth open. Between his legs, was an incredibly large penis. Maybe 9 inches in length, and thick. Very thick! It curved to the left a bit, and bounced with every pulse. It wasn't a pretty cock; not like Steve's, but it was definitely intimidating. He watched me, like a tiger knowingly watching its prey.

"Hey, Vanessa." Steve pulls me forward. Guiding me in front of him, he scoots forward and starts to suck on my breasts. "Ohhh ... ahhh." I moan as he pops one nipple out and sucks on the other. He seems gentle, much more than George. Even more so than Tim. Tim felt so strong, yet there was a gentlemanly, if not manipulative, way that Steve had to his movements.

I feel his hands run down my sides as he hooks onto my waistband and tugs at my shorts. I whimper with fear and pull away, but Steven is insistent. He stands up and forcefully yanks them down, just to my mid thigh level. He steps back as each guy cranes his neck to look at my exposed bald pussy. Steven lets out a low whistle, and chuckles in excitement while shaking his head in disbelief.

"What?" I ask, turning red in the face. I look down and gasp in surprise: strands of clear, thick pussy juice are dripping from my vagina, all the way down to my shorts. I reach down and scoop some out, and investigate the fluid by rubbing it in my fingers. It's slippery to the touch.

"Now ... THAT is the wettest pussy I've ever seen." Steve watches as I play with the fluid that is now draping down my fingers with embarrassed wonder.

"Taste it." I look at him in disbelief. He continues to watch me, and I slowly slide my finger in my mouth, wide eyed and embarrassed. I taste ... strange. Not like George's dick. It's a musky, yet sweet taste.

Steve leans forward, and without much warning, swipes a finger through my pussy lips. I jump and let out a dismayed yelp. He removes his finger nonchalantly and tastes my juices for himself. I hold back tears as he smiles. "Tastes great," he states, as he leans forward and reaches out to me again. I wince as his hand slides between my legs, his middle finger gently parting my pussy lips. I softly grasp at his wrist, but lack the courage to pull him away. Here I was, alone with three older men, having my innocence stolen from me. My shorts remain on my hips, allowing me to only spread them slightly apart as he continues to slide his finger along my pussy.

"You know," Steve says. "I've had my eyes on you for a while." I grimace and whimper as I feel his finger prod a little deeper between the pulsing lips of my pussy. "You're the prize of the school. Good thing we got to you first. You know, I bet you wandered into the locker room looking for a man."

"No ... I ..." I breathe in sharply as I feel his finger slide in slowly into my pussy. I tighten my grip on his arm.

"I bet you were even playing with yourself while you were eavesdropping on us, weren't you?" I gasp as I feel his thumb gently press and rub my clitoris.

"No! I - unnnghh!" I let out a guttural and unlady-like grunt and bear down as his stimulating thumb sends shudders through my body.

"Yeah you were. Admit it. You came in here looking for some dick." I push his arm back and pull my hips backward. "No! I didn't -"

In response, he reaches around and clasps my ass tightly, his fingers reaching into my crack and clutching me closely. His other hand is still resting against my pussy, my juices dropping down to his elbow and onto my partially removed shorts.

"If you don't agree with me, I'll just have to have George come back here and take over for me." I glance sideways at George with disdain. He wickedly imitates his clamped fist pushing up and forcing through the fingers of his other clenched hand, laughing as my eyes widened.

I quickly look back and Steve and shake my head. "Well then?"I feel his index finger join his middle, waiting at the entrance to my pussy.

"I ... came in here, looking for dick."

"Oh," he retorts. "Did you find some?"

"Yes." I shudder as his fingers wiggle and my entrance. "Whose?"

"Yours. And his. And ... his." I gulp as I stare once more at Tim's big member.

"That's right, Vanessa. So, do you like having your pussy fingered?" I softly nod my head. "Tell me what you like about it." He slides back into me, this time with two fingers. I gasp and squeeze his wrist once more, this time inviting him in.

"It ... mmmmm ... it feels good."

"Tell me more detail." Steve states in a warning tone.

"I like it ... I like it when you rub my ... clit." Steve resumes rubbing it with his thumb as I release his arm and clutch desperately to his shoulders. He begins to curl his fingers deep inside of me - and I lean further forward, my hands on the wall as I start moaning uncontrollably.

"Mmmmm! Ohhhhhh, oh, uhh, uuuuuhgnn!" Steve's pace quickens as he continues fingering me. "You like that?"

"Yes! Yes, oooh, it feels good."

"Should I stop?" Steve asks mockingly.

I start bucking my hips with his rhythm. I feel ashamed, but the unexperienced pleasures washing through my body are irresistible. I spread my knees wider, feeling my booty shorts around my thighs pull tightly against me. My legs begin to shake and quiver. My head lulls back and forth as my eyes flutter.

"Are you going to come for me, Vanessa?" I am almost horizontally leaning on Steve's shoulder, my breasts brushing his back to the rhythm of his arm. He reaches around with his free hand and pulls my waist against him. He continues to press on a sweet spot inside of me, previously unreached. My feet slide out further behind me, and I am unable to stop moaning.

Steve increases his pace to a furious rhythm. I can hear his fingers sloshing in my pussy as an indescribable feeling edges closer to me. "Ugh! Uhhhh ... Eh!! Mmmm! Ahhhh!" I feel wave after wave of what felt like the rush of a thousand shivers crash through me. My hands slide down the wall and I desperately grasp at the edges of the bench as Steve's fingers intuitively thrust to the throes of my very first orgasm!

"OOOOOH! MMMMPH! Huh ... huuuhhhh ... mmmm ..." I relax my tense body and slump down as Steve guides me past the bench and onto the floor. He gets up, bends over and wipes his wet hand on my backside.

"Get up. Come here. Lose the shorts and lie down."

Still panting heavily, I roll gingerly onto my back. Steve is standing over me, his impressive dick jutting straight out from his body. He reaches down his hand and grabs mine, pulling me up to my feet. I stagger unsteadily, my knees still weak and quivering.Lie down. I'm going to fuck you now." I blink with a sense of bewilderment. This couldn't be happening!

I nervously rub my arm and bite my lip. I don't know what to do! I'm scared, intimidated by these older men taking advantage of me. But yet, i feel this yearning desire in me. Whenever I look at Steve's dick, I feel a strange ache inside of me that I can't quite describe. Slowly, I lower my shorts past my knees, as they noisily slap on the ground. I stand before these men, completely naked.

"Turn around; slowly. Show off for us." I oblige the request, and I slowly turn around and bend over, at the waist, with my back arched. I look to my right: George stands at the entrance to the showers, slowly stroking his dick. To my left, I see Tim. His dick is now fully erect, laying on his chest. It goes well past his belly button.

I turn back to Steve. He motions me over and guides me to lay on my back. I lay down, my head closer to Tim's side of the bench, though I can't see him. Steven straddles the bench and positions himself between my legs.

I take in a deep breath. I shudder when I feel his smooth head slide up and down my sensitive, throbbing pussy. "Ooooooohhh ..." I moan as unique and intense pleasures wash over me. he brushes his dick like a paint brush, up and down my slit. It's almost too much sensation so soon after an orgasm ... my first one at that. Almost.

"Mmmmmmmm - OHH!" I gasp as I feel the head slide in. It doesn't hurt ... but an intense shiver crawls up my spine. Steve holds up my legs like a 'V' and slowly but steadily advances his shaft into me.

"Haaah ... aaaaAAAaah ... OOOH, MY GO- MMMMMPH!" I cry out as he slowly slides into me, inch by inch. The wetness of my pussy allows him to enter with ease, but the fullness! The tightness!

I grunt loudly as I feel his body press against mine, his dick reaching the untouched places in my pussy. I grit my teeth as he holds it there, then begins to gently thrust into me.

"GRRRRAHH! OH! AHHH! Oh ... oh ..." I feel more used to his dick, as his rate increases. "Huh ... mmmm ... mmm-OH! ... mmm, yeah, ugh, mmm, mmmhmmm..." I wrap my legs around Steve as he continues thrusting. I ... think I like this. No, I really like this ... but ... this is so wrong!

"WOOOAHH-AH-AH-AH!" Steve rubs his fingers on my clitoris, and all thoughts of regret leave my foggy mind. "Oh, yeah! This feels, OH, this is ... GAAAAAHHHHH!"

Steve increases his rhythm, and I can hear the slapping sounds of our bodies colliding. I feel his balls smacking against my asshole, as he leans back and pumps into me, finger on my clit.

"SHIIIIIIT! SOMETHINGS -AHHHH!" I feel a rush deep within me as wave after wave of pleasure crash over me once more. My mouth is wide open - but I can't breathe. I can't scream. My whole body tenses up as Steve grunts and pumps my pussy with his dick. As I continue to convulse, Steve starts grunting and moaning, and he thrusts mightily into me, scooting me forward on the bench each time.

As my second orgasm subsides, I realize that Steve is about to cum inside me. "Wait! No no no no NOOOOO!" It's too late. I prop myself up with my elbows and try to swing my leg over. I end up with my legs together on one side as he blows his load inside of my pussy. Tim comes from behind me and holds me down.

"Oh, no ... you came in my pussy!" I whine as Steve, panting and spent, continues to thrust his dick into me. He flips my legs back to the 'V' position and slowly slides it in and out of me. Tim is holding my shoulders, and he pushes down to make me flat on my back again.

Tim advances on the bench, and as I stare up on the ceiling, I see his massive cock fill my field of view. He keeps going, until his balls are directly over my mouth. His cock leaves a streak of precum from my neck to my chest.

"Here's what you're going to do. Your going to lick my balls, and press together your titties so I can fuck them. Repeat it."

I feel the impressive weight of his dick lying on my chest. Weakly, I mumble, "I'm going to lick your balls ... and press together my, uhm, breasts." I still feel Steve slowly humping me.

"Your what?"

"My ... my titties."

"And why are you going to do that?"

I place my palms on either side of my breasts and hold his massive member in between with my fingertips. I feel some reluctance and inhibition give way as I loudly say, "So you can fuck my perfect, sexy, 18 year old titties!" With that, I stick my tongue out and let it graze Tim's balls as he pumps his dick in between my breasts.

Steve, finally spent, slides out and sits back on the bench. Tim reaches down and scoops my wetness, along with cum, into his hand, and he spreads it on my chest. Soon after, i feel another dick at my pussy entrance. George has taken Steve's place.

George didn't have what Steve had. His dick was smaller, his thrusts were less sensual, and he paid no mind to pleasuring me. As Tim continues to slide is long cock in between my breasts, George speaks up. "What am I doing, Vanessa?"

I stop licking Tim's balls for a moment and say "Having sex with me."

George laughs and spanks me. "Dirtier."

"You're ... fucking me."

"Yeah? I'm fucking you where?" He slaps my ass once more.

"You're fucking my pussy!"

"Mmmhmmm, yes I am. What else can you call it?"

I rack my brain for any dirty words I can remember. "My ... snatch. You're fucking my snatch."

"Yeah, good. What else you got, bitch?"

I inhale deeply, and lick Tim's bouncing balls. "My, cunt. No ... no your cunt. My cunt ... it's yours." I begin to understand what George was looking for. He's a true chauvinist. The way he pounded my face, the way he fucks, the way he talks to me. I have to cater to that, maybe make him finish sooner. I already resign myself to the fact that he will probably cum in me too.

"Pound that cunt. Pound it hard!" I pant as he increases his pace, all the while with Tim in between my breasts. "Take it! Make it yours! Make it ... your hole. Your fuckhole!"

"Yeah!" George begins to thrust in me faster. It feels intense, but not enough to keep me from focusing. I tilt my head out from underneath Tim and look at him. "You like these titties? Huh? You like fucking my perfect little body? Yeah?"

With a final push, George cries out and pulls out of me, to my surprise. He jacks himself off for a moment before blowing his load on my pussy. I feel the warm spurts drape across my pussy lips, as it oozes down past my lips and into my asscheeks.

"Look at our girl!" Exclaims Tim. "She's turning into a freak! Vanessa, get up."

I pause for a moment. George and Steven have already fucked me. Tim was obviously expecting something as well. But he was too big!

I sit up. "Wait, now, let me, uhm, give you a handjob?" I turn around and scoot backwards, away from Tim. "Look, it's just not possible, right? You can't really expect to fit that ... cock ... inside of me. C-can you?"

He continues to follow me. My eyes widen. "No, no, no, please don't ... I don't think I could handle you ... haven't I done enough?" He stand up fully, his dick swinging freely. "You're done when we say you're done."

My lip quivers as I hold back tears. I slide to the edge of the bench, fear in my eyes. Tim grabs a towel, reaches out, and wipes off the cum from my pussy. Looking at it, he then smears the juices on my face. I gasp and look at him incredulously.

That upset me. I lash out and try to kick him. He just laughs and grabs my ankles. The other men grab my arms as I squirmed, and in unison, they quickly flip me over.

"Oof!" I whimper as I land on the hard bench. George stays at my head and keeps me low to the surface. Tim brings my knees together and up underneath me. He pushes down on my upper back, so my ass is jutting out straight in the air. I feel so exposed and open.

"Well, look at that!" Tim exclaims. I try to turn around and see what he was doing, but I couldn't. I hear him slowly spit and feel a drop of saliva running down my ass.

I start to whimper. Tim straddles the bench and leans forward. He uses his two hands to spread my asscheeks some more. I yelp loudly when I feel his tongue lick squarely on my asshole!

"AHHH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I squirm against the men holding me, but I can't break free. I feel his tongue lick and prod at my virgin asshole. "Oh, no, no no no please stop ..." I cry out, embarrassed. He responds with another lick. I jump slightly. "Ohhhhhhh, please stop." He licks again. I twitch in response.

Tim continues this for several minutes. I started out whimpering, but as time went on, that whimpering turned into moaning. I started to enjoy the unique sensations.

*This feels so ... wrong. But, it does feel kind of good. Mmmmmmm*

"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm, yeah." I freeze for a moment as I realize that just came out of my mouth. I blush with embarrassment as I hide my face in the bench. "No, no, noooo ..." my voice trails off into silent sobs.

"Looks like she like this!" states Tim. "Tell us, do you like that?" I shake my head, ashamed. He slaps my ass hard and curtly says, "Don't lie."

I nod my head sheepishly. "Yes. Yes, I like it when you ... uhm, lick my asshole. It ... it feels nice."

Tim nods. "I think she's ready." I cringe at what that could mean. I know he wouldn't try to put it there ... right?

I shudder when I feel the weight of his cock at my entrance. To my momentary relief, he was at my pussy. For a second I thought he was going to try to put it in my ass-

"WHOOOOAAAAAAAHHHHH!!" Any feelings of relief disappear as he presses his dick into me. I reach down and feel his shaft, and I trace the outline of my stretched pussy. He didn't get much more than the head in!

"Whooo ... whoooo ... whooo" I breathe through pursed lips. "It's so, it's so big - OOOOOOHHHH!" I cry out as he rams more into me. He positions himself a little higher, planting a leg down on the bench as he leans in further.

"OH GOD! YOU'RE DICK IS SO FUCKING HUGE! I CANT! I CANT TAKE ANY MORE! I-"

*GASP!*

I let out a deep, throaty gasp as he slides a finger into my asshole. George lets go of me and I raise my head, now on all fours. I can't breathe. I can't move. My mouth hangs open, and my eyes are squinted shut.

*GASP!*

Tim is fucking my pussy with a regular rhythm. I still can't bring myself to breathe, the sensations are too much! I manage to lift up a hand from the bench and slam it back down. Again. And again.

*GASP!*

"OOO - OOHH- ... AGGHHHH!" I manage to croak out as Tim stretches my pussy and finger fucks my ass. Finding my voice again, I start to make a long and constant wail. His dick was hurting me. His finger overwhelmed me. I look and see Steve and George to the left of me, both jacking off to the sight.

Tims barrage quickens, and I collapse fully onto the bench. Tim cries out and removes his dick from my pussy, as well as his finger. I could hear him jacking off onto me, and after a moment I felt load after load spurt over me, from my ass to my hair, and everywhere in between.

My pussy throbbed from the beating. I reach for the bottle of whiskey, and take a long swig. I cough a bit, but soon feel a heavy haze drift over me. Everything became blurry, and I just couldn't focus. I just laid there.

"Look at that!" George exclaims. "She wants more!"

The guys weren't done with me. As I lay down on the bench, Steve comes behind me and lets my legs fall to the floor. I just lie there, limp. I hear him spit and then feel a throbbing penis pressing against my asshole. With the whiskey and my exhaustion, I can't resist. I cringe at the discomfort as he slides his dick into me, inch by inch.

"Mmmmfph! Oooohhhhh ... my ass ... ohhhhh ..." I weakly cry out. I lay there, in a fog, as he fucks my hole, for, how long? Minutes? I reach back and grasp at his dick. He's only pushed in half of it?!

Steve props himself up over me. His cock, still in my ass, is pointing down. He reaches around my hips, locks his arms, and pulls upwards. I feel my hips lift off the bench as he sinks his dick fully into me!

"OH GOD, my ass!" He continues to lift me up until he is holding my full weight. I lean back against him and balance against the wall. Tim steps in front and watches, as I am fully exposed to him. With his fingers kept together like a salute, he tabs my pussy sloppily back and forth, eliciting screams from my lips.

Steve then sits down and keeps his cock in my asshole. He lays back as I sprawl against him, unable to get up. I watch as my tits bounce back and forth as he pounds my poor hole. I cry out again as I feel my pussy get invaded. Tim enters between my legs once more and I cry out loudly as he stretches me. I feel so full!

Everything is going so hazy ... I think I had too much to drink. Or maybe not enough. I can hear my screams, but they almost don't register as mine. I look down. I see my pussy being pummeled, and I feel my asshole being stretched. But it doesn't hurt as much.

My hand starts massaging my clitoris. "Ohhhhh ... oooooh ... ahhhhhh... oooooooooooohhhh!"

My moans sound like - moans of pleasure? My other hand goes to my left nipple. I play with it. I love the tingling feeling it gives me. Steve thrusts into me. I feel so ... good? No, good is definitely not the right word. But ... I feel something. Something intense.

Tim continues to fuck my pussy as I rub my clit. "Ohhhhhh, yeah. Mmmmmm ... mmmhhhmmmm. Oh! Ooohh! OOOF!" I feel so used, but, I don't want it to stop. I start grinding my hips up and down, feeling the movement of the cocks deep inside me.

George stands at my head and pulls my hair. I have just enough time to prepare as he slides his dick into my throat, pressing against me and thrusting.

"Gluh-gluh-gluh-gluh." I continue to masturbate as I feel George tense up. He presses into me as I choke on his load. Cum drips out of the side of my mouth as he finishes in me.

I feel a wave of sensation forming deep within me. I moan more frequently as the feelings grow stronger.

"MMMM! MMMMHHMMMM! I'm goin' to ... cum soon, I ..." my voice trails off as I continue to rub my clit. Tim cries out and pulls out of me, blowing his load on my stomach and chest. He then slides two, maybe three fingers into my pussy. Pushing on my pelvis, he thrashes them up and down in my pussy.

"IM ... ITS HAPPENING, OH FUCK! OOOOHHH, FUCK! AHHHHHHHHHH!!" An intense, indescribable wave of sensation washed over me. Pussy juice gushes out of me and onto the bench. I shake violently as my convulsive orgasm wracks my whole body. I could feel Steve blow his load in my ass as he joins me in the throes of orgasm.

Then I black out.

***

I wake up. The very first thing I notice is my splitting headache. "Owwww." I hold my head in my hands and squint my eyes open. Something had dried over my left eyelid and kept it shut. I rub my right eye and groggily look around.

"What, where ... was that real?" I notice that I am still in the men's locker room. I sit up fully and wince at the soreness of my ass.

Shakily, I stand to my feet. "Hello?" There's no answer. I stumble to the nearest mirror and look at myself. I was fully naked, and I had dried cum everywhere. My hair was matted, and a thick glob had dried over my left eye. I turn on the sink and wash my face.

I step back and examine myself more fully. Cum had dried on my breasts, my stomach, my back, and my ass. I turn around and notice distinct hand marks where I was spanked. I lean forward and spread my cheeks. My asshole looks stretched and loose. I whimper and delicately lift my leg onto the sink to examine my pussy. It is red and puffy, and feels stretched out. I can see into both holes.

I return to the locker room. All signs of the men's presence was gone ... save a camcorder on a tripod in the center of the room. I didn't remember that there!

There is a note attached. It reads:

Vanessa,

We got the whole night on tape. G set it up when he locked the door. I'm sending in your 'highlight footage' to the dean at Stanford. Trust me, he's already eager to provide you a full ride ... with a few ... conditions. He'll be in contact with you.

As for us, this never happened. The tape stays with me; if you rat us out, we'll leak it. I did leave some pictures on there for you to see. We had some more fun when you were out.

You were a phenomenal fuck!

T

I turn on the camcorder and scroll through the history. There's a few images. The first one is a picture of the whisky bottle neck stuck in my pussy. It appears that they had poured the rest on my body.

I scroll next. Steve was pumping his cock between my ass cheeks, smearing cum in my crack. I'm lying there, slumped across the bench.

I feel a sense of disgust at the next picture. George is sitting on the bench, and he had positioned me upside down so that my legs were draped on his shoulders. Only my shoulders were on the ground, and my arms were sprawled to my side as my face appears contorted in pain. One of his arms was wrapped around my waist, and he had worked in all five of his other fingers into my pussy, with the base of the thumb slightly visible. I shakily reach down and ease four of my own fingers into me. I wonder if I will ever be as tight as I was before last night.

I reach back and tenderly caress my ass at the sight of the last one. Somehow, Tim managed to shove his dick into my asshole! The entirety of his shaft is buried in me as he pulls my arms backwards in doggystyle. I appear to be awake, as I am standing on my own, but I can't remember it at all.

I shut the camcorder off and look for my clothes ... they're all gone. I'm too tired to be upset. I look around and find an large, old, dusty jersey. I slip it on, and the neck almost slips over my shoulders. I drape it around me and head for the door. It is unlocked. I peek out into the hallway. No one seemed to be around. The first rays of morning light were shining down. I walk out, heading for my car.

I smile as I feel a little cum leak out of me and drip on the floor. "College, here I come!"

#older man younger woman #oldermen #older daddy #older guys #teacher crush #dadyslittlegirl #fuck me dady #daddy's good girl #older dad bf

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

One: “Thanks, I Hate You”

You and your arrogant PR client are bitter rivals, and there’s no length Loki won’t go to just to watch you squirm. Just when you think you’re going to get a much-needed break from the Great Redeemed Prince’s ego, you’re tapped to escort him to, of all things, a peace summit in Australia. 

CONTENT WARNING: Loki's an asshole

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

MASTERLIST

“Mr. Odinson, tell me, how does it feel to be reformed for eighteen months now?”

“Mr. Laufeyson, actually, and it feels absolutely incredible, it’s as if my soul is free at last!”

“And you have no more genocidal urges or Asgardian instincts to kill?”

“Never again will I do harm to the people of this planet, who have so kindly agreed to give me a second chance after removing the influence of my--err---the scepter.”

Loki’s shit-eating grin unfolded across his face, but to the untrained eye, he looked every bit the contrite warlord who fell in love with the world he’d once targeted for conquest. He could twitch and tweak every muscle in his face into the optimal layout for ass-kissing, and the only ones who were ever wise were you and the rest of the team. 

“At least he plays the part well,” you said bitterly to Tony, leaning over to mutter in his ear while watching the former ‘God’ play up the press like they were at a rock concert. Some of the reporters looked downright charmed, but you knew better. You were more interested in the snow flurries that were falling outside the window.

Tony shrugged. “Yeah, he’s okay.”

You sneered, rolling your eyes with disbelief. “Until the flash bulbs stop. Then he becomes a baboon’s taint.” 

Stark muffled a snort of laughter with his fist. “Always one for eloquence. That’s why I hired you.”

“I’m also the only one around willing to wrangle that,” you paused, pointing at Loki as he folded his hands into a prayer pose, expressing gratitude for the praise he was receiving, “for your pittance of an asking price.” 

“I pay you well,” Tony shot back in defense. “Loki knows how to keep up appearances--”

“--he took off his pants in the lunchroom yesterday to annoy me--” 

“--most of the time.” 

You folded your arms across your chest, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Loki as things in the press room wrapped up. In his very basic outfit: a dress shirt and tie, black slacks, and a tight, professional ponytail, he looked dashing enough. You’d known the truth about him for the eighteen months since you were hired to be his PR manager: Loki had all of the behavioral maturity of an eight-year-old high on pixie sticks.  He loved attention, always jutting out his hips when he strutted about the complex, flipping his hair over his shoulder. 

Loki loved to paint himself as the very model of a modern major comeback story. At first, it was for self-preservation. The terms of his parole as set forth by the UN were strict, and the best course of action to keep his freedom was to play by their rules. Over the next year-and-a-half, however, once it was clear that his image was evolving into that of a celebrity, Loki took the idea and ran with it, and he only used your unsavory opinion of his to fuel the fire he lit under your feet every chance he got.

It was almost as if he targeted you with most of his snarks and jests, always calling you every synonym for ‘boring’ he could muster. For a while, you could brush him off, but after the repeated comments, you began to push back…which led you to your current relationship status: tense at best, resentful and irritable more frequently. 

You could not stand him! He never listened to your advice on how to conduct himself in public. One of his favorite pastimes was inviting the worst kinds of people over for sex, and then making you call them afterwards to dump them. “Loki isn’t sure he’s ready to fully commit to one person yet, but last night will always live in his memory…” It was degrading, gross, and such a slimeball move. You always sent each of his poor conquests a fruit basket the size of SoHo. 

The only reason you refused to resign was that you really needed the money. Despite your repeated complaints, Tony was actually paying you very well. You could afford an apartment with a private toilet in Manhattan, anyway. 

“And that’s all we have time for this afternoon, everyone,” Tony leapt onto the stage and gently nudged Loki away from the podium.  “We’re all proud of Loki’s rehabilitation, as well as his decision to live among us and help the Avengers keep this world safe.” 

The applause was thunderous. You bit your lower lip and got another glimpse of the snow squall outside while Loki bowed and mouthed thanks to his supporters. Every second you could successfully divert your attention away from the Asgardian was a victory. Alas, it was temporary. 

As soon as he left the stage, he gave you a smarmy, evil wink. “Better than ever, wouldn’t you say?”

“Hercules couldn’t clean out all the bullshit in your stables, Loki,” you said with an exasperated sigh. 

“Successfully convincing the world of your contrition is an art, you know.”

“So is painting on walls with shit, to some.”

Loki couldn’t help but snicker under his breath, You were the most feisty woman he’d ever met, aside from maybe Natasha Romanoff. “I see we’re fond of the scatalogical comebacks today. Doesn’t that mean your menses are coming on?”

You could have whirled around on your heels and punched him, but your restraint was enough to keep your professional demeanor, at least until you were out of public sight and in one of the private areas. There were still a LOT of people around and your entire job was keeping up appearances for both yourself and your charge. “I have a headache today, Loki, please shut up and let me do my job.” 

“So it is your cycle!” he chortled, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you know what they say helps with menstrual cramps?”

“Don’t!” you warned between gritting teeth, giving Loki a glare of death. “I mean it!”

Loki paused, as if he was actually going to listen. Then he opened his trap, and it came out: “a good hard dicking!” 

There it was. Your line. Loki had crossed it so far that he was about to meet customs on the other side. 

You slapped him across his right cheek hard enough for his head to whip to the side. Of course, he was able to recover from it quickly, only to pout his lips and widen his eyes when several gasps from the reporters still in the press room silenced everything else. Loki’s snarky smile never left his face, especially as he looked back at you with a somewhat more venomous twinge. 

“It’s 2024,” you scowled, “try something less sexist than blaming my period next time, assbag.”

“So violent,” he said lightly. “So attractive. No wonder you have so many dates…oh wait, that’s me!” he said mockingly, putting a hand over his heart and acting surprised. “I have all the dates, and you’re the one who resents that and takes it out on me by hitting me in front of all of my friends!” 

He dropped his sarcastic smile, replacing it with narrow, threatening eyes and a thin frown. “Embarrass me like that again, woman, I dare you.” 

“I only resent that you make me clean your dirty sheets afterwards, asshole,” you answered. “I don’t really care how many strains of herpes you intend to collect from the Greater New York area. You’re a pampered little twat, and I really do deserve more money for babysitting you.”

You started to leave, but you quickly thought better of it and walked back to say one more thing. “And I will gladly smack you in front of these people any day of the week! No one else is going to put you in your place!”

“And what place is that, Madam?” he asked, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. 

Nearby, a young blonde reporter who was clearly one of Loki’s fans had taken special interest, and was trying to shoot as many desperate glances at him as she could, asking for her turn in his bed with only verbal cues from across a crowded room. 

“I’d say Hell, but you probably have a permanent residence there already.” 

You noticed the blonde was starting to inch closer, and in her stupid, beady little eyes you saw your escape. “I think I see your Skank of the Day coming in for the steal right now.”

Loki turned to look at the blonde reporter, and he looked somewhat unimpressed. “I suppose. The only other creature in here with any sort of beauty is--”

He stopped mid-thought and decided to go back into his debonair facade, waving you away snobbishly and sticking his nose up. “You’re done for the day, I think. Now please leave me to woo this exquisite little doll who approaches…”

You did have some work you needed him for. There was a peace summit in Australia hosted by Amnesty International, and Loki was a keynote speaker, having been spared from the death penalty and turned into the Earth’s darling. He was the world’s most instantly-recognizable proof that anyone could be rehabilitated, which made him a highly desirable motivational speaker. The summit was in three days, and you needed to brief him on the PR person taking over your duties once he crossed the international dateline. 

He could terrorize the Land Down Under for five days all he wanted. You were about to have your first vacation from the miserable fucker since starting your job. This was going to be your Christmas. 

However, you didn’t feel like dragging him away from the little hopeful moving in on him, and instead you decided to begin packing your bag for your long-desired break from Loki. 

“She what?!” you growled in anger, turning away from Stark and Banner to hide that fact that you were almost instantly upset by their news. 

“Mrs. Donner resigned yesterday,” said Bruce Banner, twiddling his thumbs apprehensively, making him look like a human-sized pangolin. “She’s not taking Loki to Australia.”

“WHY NOT? She’s more qualified than I am!” you bullshitted, doing anything to try and convince these two to go after her. You knew what this meant, but you weren’t ready to accept it just yet. You were a fighter, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sacrifice your time off now.

“She’s also a Mormon. I’m surprised she put up with Loki’s harassment as long as she has,” replied Banner. 

“Or maybe she enjoyed it so much she had to jet off to Planet More-Men or whatever heaven is for them,” Stark mumbled. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, brushing the air in front of you as if erasing something off of an invisible chalk board, “what does matter is who we are going to send him with. His parole terms state he cannot cross international boundaries alone.” 

“C”mon, Y/N, you know where this is going!” said Tony with a wink. 

“No,” you said firmly.

“It’ll be summer down there,” said Banner, “It’ll be nicer than here in New York.”

“No!” you repeated. “My vacation!”

Stark rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, that’s why I’m offering you a month’s paid sabbatical after you return.”

“No…I…what?” your fast, angry thoughts slowed on the conveyor belt as you began processing his counteroffer. “I was only scheduled for a week!” 

Tony nodded. “Yeah, I’m quadrupling that right now, I’ll even get it in writing if you want. I can do that. I’m awesome like that.”

A month! A month without Loki poking fun of your ‘menses’ or humiliating you with jests and quips under his breath. A whole month of sleeping in late, dressing like a slob, and not worrying about how you or any client of yours appeared to the public. Tony Stark certainly knew how to play your game. 

“You must be desperate,” you sighed, thinking about it.

“Well, if Loki can’t attend the summit, it’ll look kinda bad,” Bruce added, his low, bashful voice somewhat harder to hear than Tony’s confident tone. 

“I’ll get you VIP passes to any club in the city for the whole month you’re off,” Tony added. “Four of them. And unlimited cocktail service. Live like a movie star for the next month, and all you have to do is babysit our little horndog for five days in Aussieland this week.” 

“Deal,” you acquiesced at last, not missing a beat. “I’ll do it.”

“Excellent.” 

All three of you turned your heads toward the intrusive new voice in the room. Loki was leaning against the doorway to the office, arms folded, a shit-eating sneer on his face. You felt your skin go hot at his sudden, unwelcome appearance. 

“I was hoping that my exertions manipulating that old dowager into quitting would bear fruit, and now it seems I’m just time for my little trip with my dearest friend in the Realm!” 

“Easy, Lokes,” said Stark, holding back a laugh. “Don’t push it, ok?”

You bit your lip to keep your temper. It didn’t make any difference if you kept protesting. You’d taken Stark’s carrot, and now you had five days of this jester’s extraterrestrial farts to sniff.

“Oh, I’m sure the next few days will include plenty of pushing about,” said Loki. 

Tony raised an eyebrow and began following Banner as he snuck out of the room. “Be on the roof tomorrow morning. Oh, and uh, the quinjet has got some issues so it can’t go any faster than Mach 1.5 right now. Means it’ll take a little longer to get out there. Hope you two can get comfortable with one another real fast.” 

“You…you set this up,” you hissed, your anger bubbling to the surface now that your employer was out of range. “I ought to ask your father to hang you.”

This only made him laugh. “He would only love the pleasure, I’m sure.”

And I would love to see your corpse swinging by the neck, you thought.  “Why? Why did you do this?” you asked with frustration. “You hate me and I absolutely hate you, Loki, so why force us to be in closer proximity for longer than necessary?”

“Oh, I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from you, sweet pea! It’s my greatest delight in life to always hover five paces behind you and piss you off. The mere idea of being so far away for so long!” Loki brought a mocking hand to his heart, expressing fake sadness in both his body and face. “My heart would only cry for you.”

“I should just make you go alone and make an ass of yourself,” you suggested. “Maybe some Australian hell-beast will swallow you whole.”

“Oh-ho! By all means,” Loki chuckled, throwing his head back. “Let me loose without supervision in a foreign country as the sole representative of the United States, the Nine Realms, and the Avengers. That will go over well for all of us.”

Your jaw hung open, no witty retorts for him, Unfortunately, he was right. Punking out would in one way or another, only serve to humiliate yourself and Stark.

“Ah, ah…” Loki tucked a finger under your chin, nudging your mouth closed by poking your chin upward, “You’ll catch flies.” 

He left you there, speechless in the middle of the room, only turning back in the doorway to add: “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, darling!”

Before going to bed that night, curled up in your sad little futon in your one-bedroom loft, you prayed to every god that wasn’t Asgardian that there would be some kind of apocalyptic blizzard that popped up out of nowhere, forcing the takeoff to be delayed. Inclement weather was probably the only acceptable excuse for Loki to be a no-show down in Sydney. WHile the city didn;t necessarily get as much snow as upstate near the lakes, it usually took a few inches to shut the whole place down. There was hope. Perhaps the weatherfolks were keeping it a surprise…

This meant, of course, that the next morning was the first perfectly sunny morning New York had seen in weeks. In a small act of rebellion against the little shit you had to babysit, you chose to take your sweet time getting in. You purposefully dragged your feet down to the subway, your suitcase dragging along like a weight tethered to your wrist. You saw an abnormally-long line outside of a coffee shop and decided to stop in for an Americano. 

By the time you made it to the rooftop of Stark Tower, you were over an hour late, which was not typical for you. The jet was otherwise prepped, the diminutive young pilot tapping his feet impatiently by the nose, Stark and Loki just tossing the last of his belongings in around the side. 

“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” said Tony. 

Loki dropped what he was doing and shuffled up to you. He gave a mock bow, taking your hand and laying a big wet kiss on the back of it. “My escort, how lovely to finally see your bright face ready for our trip!”

“Die.”

Loki pouted. “Oh, is that any way to greet your business partner? I asked for you to be at my side all week long! Don’t you think I’m owed a little more courtesy?”

“Please die.”

“That’s my girl.” 

Just before you boarded, Tony gave you a wink and one last piece of advice: “Remember, when the going gets tough, lie back and think of England.”

The last thing he saw before the doors shut was your middle finger. 

Once the pilot got the quinjet into the air, he announced that he’d need to take his time in order to appease whatever yet-to-be-diagnosed tech issue the plane had, and prevent something from happening. 

“Ugh, so what’s our ETA, then?” Loki asked impatiently, the saccharine facade dropping the instant he was out of Stark’s view. 

The pilot shrugged. “I can get us there safely in five hours, maybe.”

“FIVE HOURS?” you groaned. “This thing is--”

“--gonna disintegrate if I don’t treat it gently,” he shot back. “Relax! It’s still a hell of a lot faster than if you were flying in a Boeing, okay?”

You and Loki looked at each other with annoyance. You sighed and went to sit as far away from the cockpit as you could, taking a green-jacketed book from your shoulder bag and flipping it open a bit too dramatically. 

Unfortunately, Loki didn’t seem to take the hint, sitting beside you and peeking over your shoulder. 

“You kept us waiting on purpose,” he accused. “You’re a bit of a brat, you know.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. Gently shutting the book, you turned to Loki with the most serious expression you could muster without losing your professionalism. 

“Look, Laufeyson, you’re the one who set this up for us. If I had to venture a guess, it’s because you’re bored and needed a new way to make me miserable. But let’s make one thing perfectly clear: I hate you. I can’t stand your smarmy face and how you get off on making me crazy! Every time you open your mouth, it makes me want to drop-kick an orphan! I’d rather have a root canal while on ecstasy every day for the rest of my life than be sitting right here next to you.”

Loki didn’t blink. “...and how does that make you feel?”

“But I’m getting my big payout when this is all over, so for FUCK’S SAKE, let’s make this easy on both of us? You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. You can find a kangaroo’s pouch to ride around in for all I care.” You went to open your book again, but Loki laid a firm hand over top of it. 

“I’m hurt. Truly.”

You snickered. “Sure.”

“You know what your problem is?” Loki leaned back, crossing his hands casually. “You’re too uptight.”

“Uptight? You call me defending myself against all of your abuse UPTIGHT?” you growled from behind your gritted teeth. 

“Well, it wasn’t abuse at first,” Loki added, “I was only making jokes to say hello!”

“Bullshit,” you said angrily. “The day we met, you called me a servant and asked if I would massage your feet.”

“Well, now it’s just fun for me to watch you lose your temper,” he admitted. “The thought of being alone with you to twist and push every button you’ve got just to see how loudly you’d shout…”

“Stop it, Loki! I’d rather this plane go down right now than be alone with you. Ever!”

Tags: @anukulee @jiyascepter @wolfsmom1 @cakesandtom @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lokisgoodgirl @mjsthrillernp @meowmeow-motherfucker @foxherder @letstalkaboutshtufff @ladymischief11 @libby-bibby @javagirl328 @crimson25 @lcolumbia1988 @gruftiela @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @loz-3 @kikster606 @muddyorbsblr @sheris532 @lokischambermaid @kneelingformyloki @soulpiercing @goddessgirl43 @canigetanap @theoneandonlythorn @forleiasake @eleniblue @knight-of-the-doctor @goblingirlsarah @clusterfuck-meup @mischief2sarawr @cabingrlandrandomcrap @kats72 @glitchquake @zippythewondersquirrel @ameliariddle @alexakeyloveloki @lovingchoices14

#loki #fanfiction #mcu #mcu loki #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki/reader #loki smut #loki comedy #island fic #deserted island #alone with loki #enemies to lovers #Avenger!Loki #Avengers #Island AU #Smutty loki #island fever #thor #tony stark #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #steve rogers #sam wilson #captain america #rescue fic #deserted island trope #marvel loki

[tshortik]

Thinking about how some people will never know that most original paintings are looking so different from their photographs on the internet.

Like this here for example. It is "Paysage au pin" by Berthe Brincour and the only photograph I could find on the internet.

And this here below is the original that I photographed with my phone at a museum in Luxembourg last year.

You can't even see the brush strokes in the first one! If you zoom into my photo you can see the direction she went with the brushes and how it all looks like a gorgeous lively mosaic. The entire charm, everything that makes this piece feel so alive to me, gets lost in the first photo.

I don't know where I am going with this. If you do traditional art yourself and you photograph it, just know that there will be people like me that will go absolutely bonkers if they can spot your brush strokes and "imperfections" and what have you. Being able to see where someone put the brush, is literally so magical. The painting is alive to me. There is such beauty in that.

Also check out museums and art exhibits if you get the chance. You will gain even more appreciation for the paintings you know and love and find new favorites too.

#i talk sometimes #art #Paysage au pin #Berthe Brincour #went thru some photos of art i took a while ago and it makes me wanna do traditional art again hhhh #i need more free time i gotta get out the acrylics

[cherriesformatt]

game day || matt sturniolo

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: it's a game day and matt bought matching outfits for you to wear

warnings: fluff, a little bit of a dirty talk,

word count: 1,061

a/n: hi! I'm alive. I hope you will like this one. Matt in green is just jiqwehuherfuer. REQUESTS ARE OPEN didn't proof read yet

🍒

"Literally its just me, you and Chris here, it does not need to look good baby" Matt said after I was changing placement of the strawberries on my board.

"That's why I hope Nick is going to actually join us because he is the only one who appreciate my snack boards" I looked at him while opening cupcakes.

"Hey... I love them do not listen to anything he says y/n!" Chris came from downstairs and intimately took one of the cupcakes.

I hit his hand gently and narrowed my eyes at him.

"Are you being for real now? Can I finish this at peace? Go put the tv on or do whatever or I am going to eat it alone" I looked at both of them.

'Yes, ma'am" Chris put his hands up for defense and took one last cupcake.

"I love love love you" He laughed and run to the couch before I could yelled at him.

"I feel like a mother of three in this house, I swear" I said and Matt just laughed.

"That would do it....considering how you like to call me daddy" He winked at me and I rolled my eyes but my cheeks went red.

"Go away Matthew" I said going back to working on my snacks.

"Just give me one raspberry and a kiss and I am gone" He came closer to me and wrapped his arms around me.

" I hate you" I said and picked up one of the berries and raised it to his lips.

"You love me..." He smiled, ate the berry and kissed my cheek before he went to his room.

"I am actually going to throw up because of you two" Chris said from the couch with grimace on his face.

"You should actually find a girlfriend so I can have a best friend to talk shit about you and Matt" I said finishing up.

"Thats why it is not going to happen...One of you here is enough and it’s not like you’re already talk shit about us with Nick" He joked.

I took my phone out to take pictures of the board. I tried different angles so it would look good.

"See how this is not fair because is three of you here and I need to handle that all by myself" I laughed and brought the board to the coffee table when I was done with pictures.

" Aw it looks so cute y/n! I would say I do not even care if Celtics will win anymore but that would be a lie" He said.

"Thanks Chris. Grab some drinks? I am going to change, Matt is making me wear green." I laughed and went to Matt's room.

Matt was on his bed doing something on his phone.

"Okay... I am done and I can wear whatever you said you have for me" I said closing the doors behind me.

"Yey... so I bought you shorts so you could match my jersey" He said and took out the nike shorts from the bag that was sitting on his desk. He was so exited about it that it put smile on my face.

That made me want to scream and shout. I can't believe that boy is mine. He was the cutest. He was already wearing the jersey with number 9. He looked so good in green and his hair was super fluffy today. I could eat him here and there.

"Matt you are unreal, I love you, did you know that? Thank you" I took the shorts from him.

"I love you too, sweet girl" He smiled at me.

I smiled back and took my black sweatpants and matching hoodie off. I had white top and black lacy panties on.

"I might want you to actually stay in this...." Matt said and sat back down on his bed looking at me.

"Yes... I don't know, you always rip them of me and then I am waiting for my favorite time of the year when Victoria does 10 pairs for 35 bucks" I winked at him and slid the shorts on.

They were a little too big for me but that was good. I loved the cute little clover on the front.

"I love this team only for the colors and the clover" I said and walked to my boyfriend.

"Mhm... I think I start to love them for that too" He smiled up at me and pulled me even closer between his legs.

He kissed my skin just over the waistband and I smiled how my body right away reacted with a goosebump. I ran my hand through his hair.

"Come here..." He pulled me down a little so I straddle him.

"Matt the game is starting soon and I am pretty sure that Chris already ate half of the snacks..." I started but he kissed my neck gently.

"Shh...." He said and I bite my bottom lip slightly tilting my neck.

"You just smell and look so good baby" He said and gave my neck one more kiss before connecting our lips together. I scratched back of his neck before I put one of my hands on his cheek while the other wondered up to his hair while we make out for what it seemed like forever. I was lost in his touch when Chris yelled at us that hame is about to start.

"Ugh...fine" Matt laughed and moved away a little.

"You look hotter than me in this jersey Matt..." I said fixing his hair a little.

" See we are just made for each other" He patted my bum so I stood up from him and fixed my own hair as well.

Chris yelled one more time adding that he is going to eat all of the snacks.

"Honestly I would rather eat something else right now"m…” Matt smiled at me when I opened the doors.

"Same man... but well… we promised Chris a dudes weekend" I laughed and walked out of the room.

"See thats why I hate living with them sometimes...." He said walking behind me.

We joined Chris in the living room to watch the game. I posted some phots of my board and the fit on my account as we enjoyed the winning of the team.

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader