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bro idk much abt this leila girl but i thought she was nice ?

don’t get me involved, cs audrey nd them was saying that she mean. but we don’t really talk so ionk

#liyah yaps !

you know how to ball, i know “get on the base line”

#usc wbb #wbb tiktok #help!! we ran forty yesterday at practice

mystarosaragi

WHY FLAU DO HER LIKE THAT😭😭

awfdaperky-deactivated20260319

pinkyqily-deactivated20251108

TWO HOOLIGANS INLOVE | JuJu watkins x teammate!reader

Summary: Just you and juju acting foolishly in front of the press

Warning: fluff, use of yn a few times

A/n: This isn't accurate to the actually games so don't bite me, fic is apart of my new series called hooligans inlove this isn't the first part so watch out for that, if you have any juju requests send em my way if you have any feedbacks feel free to leave them happy reading readers 🌹

Usc had just won the game against uconn. You, juju, and Ray had been called for media. After a phenomenal performance from the three of you.

coach knew it was going to be crazy having you and juju up there, but with Ray too, she could only hope y'all would be on your best behavior.

"Now, before you guys head up there, I need you to be on your best behaviors. She told all three of you, "Come on, coach me and yn are good, juju just the problem here." Ray told coach while sending diggers towards juju way

likelysobbing

walk with me now, juju and her gf arguing because juju hasn’t been around lately and reader gets tired of it, and they’ve been ignoring each since so to get her mind off of things her bsf takes her out to a party or smth, juju finds out and is mad because reader didn’t tell her where she was going, and a other stuff but idk what

𖥻 COLD COUCH. juju watkins x reader

reblogs + comments are more appreciated than likes.

synopsis: juju’s absence leaves nothing but a cold couch you wake up to and a hole in your heart that you try to fill—lucky for you, your girlfriend has common sense.

notes: hi lovely! i’m so sorry i got to this request so late, i thank you for your patience. juju and the reader don’t necessarily ignore eachother for long, but they definitely don’t speak for long enough to be concerned!!! this all happens in the span of one day because me thinks juju would never leave you with a heavy heart for too long… unless it’s toxic juju. but this isn’t toxic juju nonono … but anyways !!! i did my best to make your vision come true and i hope you enjoy it <3

cw: arguing, juju is a tiny bit conceited but guys she’s a celebrity, partying, reader drinks alcohol but not to the point it’s detrimental, kind of fast paced because i’m using dividers, reader and juju are both down bad in their own ways

juju has shit to do.

it can’t be helped, and you know that. she’s juju watkins— the face of women’s collegiate basketball, with multiple awards to show for it. but juju, in all ten months and fourteen days of being your girlfriend, has never once missed a date. she made sure to make time for you, always showing up and going an extra mile: flowers, ironed outfits, an extra clean car even though it’s already clean, and most of all—the biggest smile on her face. you loved that part the most; the telling sign she was happy to see you, to spend time with you, to relax.

you haven’t seen that smile in a while. that’s usually what occurs when you date a D1 athlete with like 20 NIL deals.

you haven’t seen that smile in a long time.

you thought you would be able to. you had texted juju two weeks ahead of time telling her to keep herself free today, tonight, and you had tore the internet apart finding the best recipes—subsequently ending up with a splitting headache from looking at the directions too much to make sure you followed them perfectly. perfect; that’s what you wanted this night to be. you’d greet juju with a kiss to her cheek and a tight hug, then you’d eat dinner, then you’d watch a movie, you’d cuddle— juju would fall asleep first, hopefully, and then you’d steal her hoodie because she always took off her hoodies whenever she wanted to cuddle with you. she’d pretend she didn’t know you stole it, and she’d leave the next morning feeling lighter in more ways than one. the first because she didn't have her hoodie on, and the second because you soothed her enough to, for once, just stay in the present.

you hoped you’d be able to bring her the peace you knew she deserved. you set up the table, and even had the blankets and pillows all ready. infact? netflix’s searchbar was already waiting—and as you plated juju’s portion of the dinner you hoped you cooked right, the only thing you were waiting for was juju.

juju, who should’ve been here by now.

did she get caught up in traffic? she should’ve texted about that. she hasn’t texted you at all today.

she hasn’t texted you a lot in general these past few weeks.

you sit on the edge of your kitchen counter despite the chair you already pulled out being right infront of you, because a part of you— your heart—does not want to sit alone. you scroll through your phone absentmindedly, until a notification snaps you out of your zone. it’s juju.

juju posted something on her story—another common mainstream logo in your face directly confirming it’s some sort of brand deal— and... wait, why would she be posting about brand deals? isn’t she supposed to be on her way to you right now? she said she’d be able to make it.

you search for answers.

you find out it wasn’t just a brand deal, but a brand trip. juju’s not even in the same area code as you right now. juju’s away.

you call her the moment that it clicks.

the phone rings for way too long, and you count the seventh ring before she picks up with an exasperated, “what? what is it?”

you don’t speak.

she repeats your name, impossibly more exasperated: “what is it? i’m on a cruise right now—“

“your food is cold.” you say, simply. there is silence on the other line and you don’t know if it is from realization and subsequent guilt, or complete and utter apathy. you don’t want it to be the latter. you don’t speak any more.

judea’s voice comes out on the other end of the line. it’s slow, low, and barely apologetic. “i had a last minute offer.”

“and you didn’t think to tell them you weren’t free today? tonight? because you would be— or you were meant to be having dinner with your girlfriend?” you reply, snappy, your sweaty hand gripping your already-heating-up phone too tight. you’re exasperated, obviously. you saw juju mark this date on her calendar app— she had it labelled ‘date with my baby’ with three exclamation marks. god forbid you believe she’s genuinely eager to see you.

you hear her click her tongue on the other line. “i warned you about shit like this,” she responds, her tone more angry than exasperated—more uncaring than the (barely) apologetic tone you previously heard.

“i scheduled this with you two weeks in advance, ju,” you countered, “don’t give me that excuse. don’t- don’t even give me excuses.” you choke on your words, simultaneously choking on your own pride. you wait. she speaks again, and it’s another excuse.

you go back and forth.

“i just haven’t seen you in a while, and i missed you,” you say,

“i’ve been busy, you know how it is,” she replies,

“but you promised you’d be able to make it.”

“see now, i didn’t promise—“

“you said you’d be able to make it, juju.” you interrupt.

“yeah, and i just got … sidetracked.”

sidetracked?

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“you know what i mean, ma,” she murmured,

“no. i don’t. you said you could come last week— but now you’re not even here because of a last minute offer. am i being put to the side now?” your response is curt, and by now, things get noticeably more tense.

“god, can you stop doing that?” juju says on the other end.

“doing what? i’m just saying the truth—“ you tried to reason, because— side tracked? did she mean she put you on the sidelines? what did she mean? more importantly, what else could she possibly mean?

“it’s not always about you.” juju says, finally.

she’s right, and you say so.

“you’re right,” you say, voice breaking. “it’s not always about me. that’s why i haven’t been texting that much, or asking to hang out,” you begin, “or asking for too much,” there’s a lump in your throat, and a crack in your heart, but you press on. “because i know you’ve been busy. but juju, you said you’d be—“

“and now i can’t.” her voice cuts, her tone cutting. juju isn’t yelling, but her voice is low and outright cruel when she says your name— she says it as if it disgusts her to say, and when you hear her on the other end, your ears start to ring.

“i’m a fucking celebrity,” she continues, “i can’t be at your beck and call immediately when you say,”

“that’s why i scheduled you two weeks in—“ you tried to interrupt,

“yeah, and this brand's been eyeing me for way longer—come on, i couldn’t flake out on a deal like this. they asked for whenever i was available, and tonight was really the only night because it was just you—“

you end the call.

it’s just you, she says. it’s just you. juju obviously doesn’t want your company, doesn’t she?

it can be just her now.

you eat your plate alone. it’s still warm, but that doesn’t mean it’s good; the call with juju left a bad taste in your mouth. now juju’s plate is in the fridge labelled as leftovers you’ll probably never eat. you remove the extra pillow from your couch and use both blankets for yourself, playing another episode of your favorite show, tuning out the entire night despite hoping with all of your heart that you’ll have missed calls and texts from juju when you next check your phone.

you feel the lump in your throat still. you swallow it.

you wake up in the morning on the same couch, and you shiver at how cold it is. juju usually brought you the warmth.

you check your phone and you can’t swallow the lump anymore.

there are no notifications. your friend, bree, texted you about some party and how all her ‘fyne shyts’ were coming, but you could barely read the rest of the text because of how blurry your eyes were.

there were no calls. there were no texts.

not from her.

there was only silence, and it sent you into a spiral.

bree opens the door with the extra house key you gave her and a single knock to see you slumped across your couch completely and utterly miserable. you look at her, and she looks at you—bree, psychology major, miss know it all, looks at you and instantly knows.

“trouble in paradise?”

you burst into tears. bree’s kitten heels clack on your floor as she sits next to you and places your head in her lap, urging you to vent it out. “it’s good to get stuff like this out, hun,” she murmurs, “i’m saying this as a future therapist.”

you, three minutes into your wailing, will yourself to calm down for a moment— usually, when bree says that, it means she has something else to say, but “as my friend?”

your hunch is correct. bree tilts her head and looks down at your very miserable form curled up into a fetal position. “i say we get wasted tonight.”

“okay.”

that’s how you’re here now.

the bass is booming in your ears, and usually you’d leave solely because it’d make your head hurt—but right now, your heart hurts more. you could care less about the head ache you know you’ll get. you’re free right now. your phone’s charged, your arm is entwined with bree’s, and with every click of your heels you grow livelier. eyes flutter towards you by instinct, and they stay on you—you’re not wearing anything given to you by juju. this is your dress, these are your heels, and this is your jewelry— everyone seems to get the message.

tonight, you speak for yourself.

you’re bound to judea, but she isn’t pulling her leash, so you’ll stray. you’ll stray far, until she either lets go or you choke yourself.

bree looks at you with a soft smile, and tells you to drink safe knowing you’ll get absolutely knackered whether or not you drink. she pinky promises not to separate from you.

the gods may not have blessed you with a good week, but they’ve blessed you with a good friend.

she keeps the promise.

three hours in, and your heels are already off and in your hands, and you’re three drinks in, and you’re dancing, and bree has her arm around you and is singing the lyrics to the hollywood undead song playing. you are on top of the world but the ache has not subsided.

you’re sober enough to know you can’t drink the ache away.

so you choose to dance longer.

until your feet ache even more than your head, and your head aches more than your heart— until your legs are numb and your right hand is tired from holding your heels. but somehow, the ache, as small as it should be, is still the one you feel the most.

you don’t stop dancing.

the police crash through the back door.

you run straight for the front, with bree hot on your heel, and an unfinished cup of coca-cola and… something mixed into it, and your heels. the ice in the glass cup is melted so you throw it into the patch of grass near you. bree ends up more wasted than you are, and she, giggly, says that you watered the plants. you have no idea how she saw water in your cup when it was legit an abyss of dark brown... you know, the coca cola color? but maybe that’s why she’s more drunk than you.

the campus is not far from this party. you don’t mind walking barefoot. bree can crash at your place tonight, you owe her this much.

you are so focused on looking forward, as if there is any hope left for you, and keeping bree steady, that you don’t really pay attention to the fact that there’s a car coming up right behind you, who probably went over the speed limit just to. you also don’t notice when the car lowers it’s passenger seat window.

but you do notice when juju yells your name from the drivers seat.

your head whips around so fast you nearly drop bree, who’s taken to being slung across your shoulder. “what the fuc— juju? juju, it’s—“

“yeah, yeah i do know what time it is, genius. get in the goddamn car.” she snaps, unlocking the door as you open the backseat to gently place bree in. you get into the passengers seat next to juju.

she looks worried sick.

it’s three minutes into the car ride when the lyft that juju apparently called, and paid, for bree whisks her away from the two of you—and it’s four minutes in that you stay in complete silence out of your own shock.

in the empty car, as you drive to what you recognize is not the way to your dormitory but to juju’s apartment— you muster up the courage to break it.

“how are you here?” your voice is soft.

juju doesn’t answer for a good while, but when she does, her voice is impossibly softer.

“i have your location.”

“that's not what i meant. i thought you still had the brand trip.”

“i left early.”

“what?” you say, incredulously. juju doesn’t say anything. she parks, and then she gets out of the car—and before you can even open your door, she’s already helping you out. as you walk? you pry for answers.

“juju, i don’t think you can do that—“

“i’m a celebrity, i can do .. basically? anything.”

“juju.” you scoff. “you’re not serious. it’s just me—“

“it’s not.” juju interrupts this time, so firm it makes you lose your track of mind— her hand, once wrapped around your wrist, lowers itself and softens its grip. it intertwines with your fingers. “it’s not just you.” she repeats, visibly regretting her choices of words last night. “it’s you. you get it?”

“truthfully, no.”

“bro—I,” juju stutters, chokes even, on her own words, fumbling like she’s fumbling with the keys to her apartment right now—“i mean that…” she restarts, “i mean that i’m sorry, okay?”

you stand still in your pretty dress and high heels. you stand frozen until she pulls you in. she closes the door and she takes your face into her hands, and her palms are warm, and she is warm.

warmth. that’s what you were missing.

the ache disappears.

and then you start crying.

“you’re such a fucking asshole sometimes.”

“oh, baby,” juju immediately coos. “i know,” she says, pulling you into her chest, her right hand stroking your head while her left hand pulls you in close by the waist. “i’m sorry.” she whispers. “i’m so sorry, baby. i wasn’t thinking. i’m sorry. i got my common sense back, yeah? i’m here now. i’m here, baby—please don’t cry.” she whispers. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.” she repeats, sinking down to the floor with you—“i got you gifts, ma?” she offers. “got you so many gifts.”

“i just wanted you.” you say through a rather pathetic voice crack.

it only makes juju even more apologetic.

“i’m so fucking sorry baby. i’ll make it up to you, okay? i’ll make it up to you. come onn, prettiest girl—“ she whispers, kissing your temple, smoothing down your hair and getting it out of your face. you finally look up, still mad but not able to resist her—and you breath a shaky sigh.

“there she is,” juju says anyway, because the fact you’re looking at her is progress. “my girl.” she continues, “my girl who set up a whole dinner for me, set it all up for me, my girl who worked so hard— my girl who missed me s’much—shhh, baby, i’m here, i’m here,”

you find yourself squeezing tighter. she’s here now. that’s all you've really wanted.

she ends up cleaning you up, putting you in what she knows is your favorite hoodie (hers), carrying you, bridal style, to her couch—wraps you up in a little blanket burrito and places you on her chest where she can kiss your forehead easy. this time, she has netflix opened and ready—and she knows exactly what to have you guys watch: your favorite show that you’ve watched over seventy times, but can’t seem to get tired of.

your eyes are blown wide, focused entirely on snuggling into her hoodie and at the show you’re watching, and you’re too lost in your own post-party, post-argument, post-bad week bliss that you don’t notice juju spends every second looking at you.

you just know that it’s warm.

her hands are wrapped around you, and she’s so warm. and she’s saying sorry. and her voice is soft and it makes you sleepy.

so you close your eyes, and you start to fall harder for her, and simultaneously start to fall asleep.

there is no ache anymore. and you know it is not okay yet, but it will be.

but for now, the awareness that you will not wake up to a cold, empty couch—that's enough.

@likelysobbing.

wecrytogether

BIG DROP

contains: kk x hairstylist/fwb!oc smut. a fucked up leave out. abuse of dread locs. the inevitability of falling for your fuck buddy.

word count: 4.3k

niyah speaks: remake requested by my baby mamaaaa !!! teensy bit rushed and barely proof read. hope ya enjoy mwah.

janae was tired. she’d done four heads and made it home just before midnight. all she wanted to do was shower, smoke, sleep.

she was already in the process. music blasting, water scorching, clothes off. she was in the shower having a mini concert, rapping along to something ratchet.

this is was her peace. being in her own apartment, making her own money, not worrying about anyone but herself. she loved that shit. independence. being her own boss. bad bitchery.

when her music paused, she punched the air because who the fuck was calling her after midnight? avoiding touching her wet shower curtain, she reached for her phone on the counter.

of course it was kk. of course it was motherfucking kk.

no one but kk had the gall no gumption to call in the middle of the night. she’d probably just gotten in town. it was the end of summer break and she’d spent it all over. she’d went home, she’d went to texas, she’d went to new york— and she’d been keeping janae updated on all of her adventures.

janae wasn’t jealous. she couldn’t be, because she and kk weren’t together. kk was just a client who she had sex with…. except she never mixed business with pleasure and kk was at her house nearly every week despite only getting her hair done once a month.

janae felt kk’s absence the entire time she was gone. she’d never say it. she was too player for that, but a small, teeny-tiny part of janae had been waiting for kk to come back to storrs.

which is why she didn’t hesitate to answer the phone when kk called, midnight or not.

“hello?” she tried to keep her excitement out of her voice and seem annoyed.

kk clearly couldn’t care less about the way she sounded. “come open the door.”

despite the fact that no one could see her, janae scrunched her nose and told kk, “try again.”

she didn’t play the whole ‘no manners, ima pull up when i want to’ no matter how good the sex was. no matter how happy she was with the fact that she was kk’s first stop.

no matter what, kk wasn’t bigger than the program.

“hi, janae.” she sweetened her tone and put on her customer service voice. “can you please come open the door for me?”

that’s what i call getting some motherfucking act right.

janae grinned. she could picture the fake ass smile painted across kk’s face. she could picture the way she’d rolled her eyes before she spoke and the tick of annoyance from her top lip.

“i’m in the shower. use the key under the turtle.” then she hung up and went back to washing her ass.

―

kk slid the shower curtain open with a smile. it felt big and genuine and true. like she was just happy to see janae. like she wasn’t only anticipating sex and the movie that would come later.

but then her eyes left janae’s and zeroed in on her nipple piercings and reality came flooding in with the steam from the shower.

kk was here to fuck. she was here to get her nut off and probably get her hair done tomorrow and that would be all. janae wouldn’t see her again until the next week and that visit would be even shorter because she’d start training for the season.

the gravity of their situation was enough for janae to lock in. to go back to being the version of herself that kk knew.

“you gonna get in or is this a peep show situation?” there was no bite in her voice, only a grin.

she wouldn’t mind if kk just stood there and watched her shower. she was down for whatever kk was down for, but she knew kk. and she knew she didn’t come in there just to watch.

kk smacked her lips and took a step back. “just up, nae.”

she peeled off her tee, adjusting the ‘2’ chain that swayed just above the lining of her sports bra. she was so strong. her shoulders, her biceps, her forearms, her hands. kk was short and stout, all muscle and warm skin.

janae got lost in watching her get undressed and she didn’t listen to a damn thing kk said.

she watched kk’s hips push back as she slid her shorts down her legs. “was just askin.”

she sounded like she was in a daze because she was. she’d seen kk naked plenty of times, but she never got used to it.

the only light in the small bathroom came from janae’s mirror, but it was enough. she could see the soft light that stretched across kk’s back as turned to put her things on the counter. her eyes danced along the muscles of kk’s back that popped out like plateaus with every move she made. she traced the slope of her spine.

every time she saw the woman, it was harder to pretend like she wasn’t completely enamored by her. by the way she was 5 feet 9 inches of muscle but still moved with such grace. she wasn’t trying to be everything that janae wanted, and that made it worse.

because with every day that passed this summer, janae wanted to call kk and scream hurry the fuck up so we can be together again. and now, while she waited to be joined in the shower, she wanted to grab her and fuck her against the wet tile.

but she couldn’t do that. kk wasn’t a one-woman type of gal. she was fun, and she wanted fun from everyone she encountered. janane couldn’t be fun all the time. the way she wanted kk wasn’t fun. it was serious and a little disturbing.

so she waited for kk to make the first move. because if she did it, that would mean she wanted it. that it was necessary to her— that kk was necessary to her.

that couldn’t happen. that’s how people got their feelings hurt.

janae’s heart started beating again when kk rolled her eyes and stepped in the shower. “‘m too fuckin tired for you to be askin stupid questions.”

her tone— the rasp of her voice that came with exhaustion— made janae nervous. she felt like little bees were stinging her stomach lining and she needed something to do with her hands because the need to touch kk was worse now that she was in the shower.

she reached up to tug her shower cap lower on the back of her neck to resist the itch in her palms telling her to touch things that didn’t belong to her.

she took a step back, making room for kk in the shower. “so you want me to be quiet?”

janae knew kk didn’t give a damn about her smart mouth, but rhetorical questions were essential to foreplay and she was committed to the bit.

the sarcasm, the cat and mouse of it all. they were both too unserious to take anything either of them said seriously, but it was still fun to argue and pout.

that’s why janae was thoroughly pleased when kk slid her hands around her waist and pulled at them until they were chest to chest.

“never.” she said.

it was like a promise.

janae’s nipples hardened at the feeling kk’s against them. her skin burned and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. she was hot with everything she felt for the woman holding her and that heat— that fire brewing in her belly— is what had her pressing her lips to kk’s..

even the kiss was hot. a torrid sliding of lips. a battle of wills. it was sucking and pulling and everything janae had been waiting for since kk left.

she felt hands grab at the meat of her ass and squeeze. she felt the blunt ends of kk’s ands digging into her skin and it only spurred her on.

she took a step further so that their whole bodies were touching. she grinned into the kiss when kk groaned in her mouth. she moved from her lips to her jaw and sucked at her neck like it was her favorite flavor (it was).

kk didn’t let her go. she kept on squeezing and tugging janae impossibly closer to her. they were already close, almost in each other’s skin but almost would never be enough apparently.

when she got to kk’s collarbone, she felt her shower cap being pulled. on survival instinct, she pulled away and slapped her hand on her head.

“my leave out,” she wasn’t about to fuck up her hair.

kk pulled the cap off anyway, because she was an asshole like that. “i’ll fix it for you tomorrow.”

that was enough for janae to go right back to what she was doing. she sucked at kk’s chest with every intention of leaving as many marks as possible. kk wasn’t hers, and she’d probably fucked a girl in ever city she visited, but when she was here— when she was home— she was janae’s. that meant she had free rein, whether kk knew it or not.

retaliation is what encouraged her to graze her teeth over kk’s nipple and the fuuck she received was only further motivation.

she was exactly where she wanted to be, doing exactly what she wanted to do before she felt kk’s hand pulling her up at the chin. kk stood there, grinning like she knew she had janae in the palm in her hand. like she knew she could mold her to do whatever she wanted. she wasn’t wrong.

janae felt kk’s lashes on her forehead when she blinked. she felt her breath when she asked, “you miss me?”

rhetorical questions. foreplay. gushy feeling in janae’s stomach. hearts pounding into each other.

it was all very effective.

janae kissed her again. “yeah.”

kk nodded and said, “prove it.”

and then, because she was fully capable of being molded, janae dropped to her knees.

she didn’t waste time by doing the things she wanted to do. if she wasn’t in such a rush to follow directions, janae would have sucked at kk’s hips and licked the path of her v-line. she’d have kissed just under kk’s belly button because she was sensitive there.

she’d have done everything possible to get kk to the edge of insanity. she’d have touched and teased until all it took was a peck to her clit for kk to explode.

but she didn’t have time for all that, so she pulled kk’s hips forward and licked from her entrance to her clit, licking at the bud.

kk tasted like musk and honey and desperation. she didn’t do a thing when janae hooked her arm around her knee and brought it over her shoulder. she didn’t protest when janae dig her nails into muscle of her inner thigh. she just sighed into the feeling and dig her hand into janae’s sew in.

janae was in there— eating kk’s pussy like it was the only thing in the world. she felt that hand in her hair pulling her and guiding her up and down, so she stuck her tongue out and let kk fuck her face. she was being used in the best way.

kk was loud and every moan came from deep within her. janae popped her eyes open to watch kk’s stomach tighten over and over and over with every breath she sucked in.

“fuck, nae.” janae’s name echoed off the shower walls and bounced around in her brain.

it was addicting. her name spilling from kk’s lips was incentive enough for her to close her mouth around the woman’s clit. she sucked and licked and swirled until she felt her vision got blurry.

she didn’t need air, she didn’t need anything besides the sight of kk grinding into her mouth with her eyes squeezed shut. she was so close.

she slipped her tongue into kk’s entrance, sliding in and out while nuzzling her nose against her clit, pressing hard enough for kk’s free leg to shake beside her.

“right there. shit— right there baby.” janae kept on, crawling so kk was pressed against the shower wall with her heel digging into janae’s back. she could do nothing but take what janae was giving her. and janae was giving her all. she put everything she had into making kk curl over. and that’s exactly what she did.

kk’s eyes opened, glossy and wide like she’d been shocked. “don’t stop, fuck nae— don’t fucking stop.”

it was like she stopped breathing. her mouth was wide open but no sound came out. it was a whole body experience, the way kk’s fingers flexed in janae’s hair and her hips stuttered against her mouth.

then, like a vacuum, she inhaled and pushed her pussy harder against janae’s face. she clenched so that janae couldn’t help but slide further into her.

“oh FUCK—”

kk came into janae’s mouth. like actually. she felt the tang dribble down her tongue and glide down her throat until all she could taste, smell, or feel was kamorea arnold.

―

in the room, kk laid janae out on the mattress. they hadn’t dried off, they hadn’t turned off the water. they’d done nothing but tear each other apart in the shower and now…

now, kk was rummaging through her duffle bag in search of her strap. janae didn’t know what the hell was taking so long because… how hard could it be to spot in a fucking duffle bag?

but janae stayed there on the bed, wet and wide open and extremely impatient. her hand found her pussy without permission. she told herself she was keeping herself ready, as if she wasn’t leaking at the sight of kk’s slipping into the harness.

when she turned around, kk had that look. she looked tired with slouched shoulders and dark patches tracing her under-eyes. her fingers drummed on her thighs as she watched janae like a lion would a gazelle.

it took exactly three steps for her to be at the foot of the bed, between janae’s legs. she swatted at her hand, shooing it away from her pussy.

kk mugged her, “you know better.”

janae did, indeed, know better. but she couldn’t help it. she couldn’t help anything when it came to kk. everything was involuntary and she’d learned to fight it when she could and just go with it when she couldn’t.

tonight was one of those time she couldn’t. she’d been fuck it we ball-ing it since kk got there, and she was ready for it to all come to head. it had been too damn long since they’d been together and what happened in the shower wasn’t enough to make up for three months worth of lost time.

nothing would be able to make that up, but janae wouldn’t be able to sleep feeling the way she did. she felt like she was stuck at the top of a roller coaster, anticipating the big drop with her arms in the air. she was fully willing to face the wrath of gravity, and kk was taking too fucking long.

janae sat up on her elbow and grinned her evilest grin. “lemme ride you.” kk squinted. probably because janae had never volunteered to ride. not because she wasn’t good at it, but because it was tiring. but kk looked exhausted and freshly fucked. she wanted to sleep and knowing that she was willing to fight that just to get janae off was enough for her to come out of retirement.

she shrugged because that’s what you did when you weren’t supposed to care that much. “you’re tired.”

“aww,” kk smiled her big goofy smile and pressed her thumb to janae’s clit. she didn’t move it, just kept the pressure there so she could watch janae squirm in an attempt to create friction. “how sweet.”

janae didn’t respond— couldn’t. not with kk pushing at her clit and smiling at her misery.

she wondered what was going on in kkk’s mind at that moment. she was smiling the way she always did when they fucked, but janae never knew what that meant. she usually didn’t let herself think about it, but she was breaking all of her own rules that night. janae hoped that a sliver of what she felt was being reciprocated. she hoped she was being admired and missed like kk was. she hoped that if she wasn’t, she’d be able to recover the heartbreak of it all.

she let her mind wander as kk stepped away from her and climbed into the bed, resting her back on the headboard.

she snapped— snapped.— and called for janae. “c’mere, baby.”

and like a fucking dog, janae turned on her belly and crawled across the mattress and into kk’s lap.

kk wrapped her arms around janae, bringing into her bear hug.

“hey.” she sounded like a kid in a fucking candy store.

with a sigh, janae returned the hug. “hi, kamorea.”

she was trying to act like she wasn’t soaking this up. like she couldn’t feel the silicone resting between her legs.

kk pouted against janae’s shoulder, “you’re so mean to me.”

it was bullshit, and they both knew it. janae’s love language was being mean, so technically speaking, it all cancelled out. but she played along, pulling her face from the crook of kk’s neck and nipping at kk’s bottom lip.

“you like it.”

kk loved it, actually. she like when janae was brat. she liked play fighting with her. she liked making janae apologize.

“you right,” kk nodded, moving her hands to janae’s ass. “you ready?”

she was asking if janae was wet enough, because she was caring like that.

the answer to her question was yes. janae was more than ready, more than wet enough to take eight inches waiting for her.

she gave kk the enthusiastic fuck me grin she was looking for and mumbled a, “mhm.”

something villainous took over kk’s face. janae thought back to when kk first arrived, how she had the feeling she was about to be put through hell.

hell was upon her.

“good.” kk didn’t sound concerned anymore. she sounded like she knew something janae didn’t and janae had the strangest feeling that she was about to find out.

kk gripped the tip of the dildo and rubbed it along janae’s slit, marveling at the slick that gathered there. she tucked her bottom lip into her teeth while she watched janae pant as she rubbed at her clit.

finally, she lined janae up at the top, forcing her up on her knees.

“deep breath for me, baby.”

two things flashed through janae’s mind at that time.

what the fuck was she thinking asking to ride, knowing she couldn’t take dick

kk sounded way to happy for someone who hadn’t slept.

but she swallowed her regrets and anticipation with an inhale.

the second kk gripped janae’s hips and guided her down, all that air came rushing out.

her head fell onto kk’s shoulder, “oh,”

she swore she felt it in her chest. she felt so full. like was filled to the brim and nothing would ever reach the places that were being touched.

but at the same time, she felt insatiable. like this wasn’t enough. she wanted that big drop.

so she mustered up all her strength and slowly brought herself back up to the top. her entire body shuddered when she slid back down, but she kept going.

she rode kk with her hands braced on her shoulders, trying not to give in to the pressure that consumer her whole body.

she felt heavy. she knew she didn’t have the strength to keep going for long, but she was nothing if not determined.

she was tearing herself apart. making herself feel so good that she thought she couldn't handle it. she was so full and stretched out and so fucking tired already.

she felt herself slowing down. still chasing that drop, but going at a pace that wouldn’t leave her wrecked.

that wouldn’t slide with kk, though.

she slapped janae’s ass, the sting ringing through her whole body. she let out a cry, because holy fuck. but before she could even decide she was done, kk gripped her hips and guided her up and down the strap.

“keep goin, baby.” she whispered in janae’s ear. “you got it, go ahead.”

janae tried. she really did, but it was so much, so fast and her hips faltered.

“kk, i can’t.” she sounded pained because she was. she was disappointed in herself and more than that, she was pissed with herself for disappointing kk.

she wanted to do something for her. to get her big drop herself. and she’d failed.

only… kk wasn’t looking at her like she failed. she was smiling so hard that all janae could make out through her tears were her teeth.

there was not a drop of hesitation in kk’s voice when she asked, “you sure?”

janae had no clue what was about to happen. she had no clue what kk was up to, and she didn’t care. she was just focused on lessening the blow.

“i’m sorry i—” she couldn't finish her sentence because the strap that was already sitting inside of her— seemingly in her ribs— began to vibrate.

instantly, janae began to shake. her eyes rolled to the back of her head and all her senses began to short circuit. “f-fuck. me.”

she wasn’t asking, she wasn’t demanding. it was a realization that she’d fucked up.

kk wrapped her arms back around janae, holding her tighter. she couldn’t move. couldn’t do anything but take it as kk stroked into her from below. long and slow and so fucking deep.

kk truly was fucking her, kissing at her neck, sucking her heartbeat between her teeth. her tongue lashed against janae’s pulse as she held her place. she took her time snapping her hips up and drawing them back out slowly.

janae was lost in it all. her whole body was languid as she cried out. she couldn’t hear what kk was saying, couldn’t make out her voice over the roaring in her ears. she felt her breath, though. she felt that brush of air tickling at her throat, reminding her who was doing this to her.

she tasted the salt of her tears creep past the corners of her lips, and she felt the soft push of kk’s mouth in that exact same spot. she’d kissed her tears away while proceeding to fuck the breath out of janae.

“you’re so perfect,” kk said. “missed this shit.”

janae clutched at kk’s dreads, pulling back to rest her forehead against kk’s. they were breathing each other’s air, sucking in what the other pushed out.

“missed this pussy—” she brought a hand between them, circling janae’s clit at a speed that could only be described as treacherous. she kissed janae before she could fully get the whine out of her throat. “missed this mouth,”

janae looked at her. took in the sweat the beaded at her hairline, the darkness of her blown out pupils, the redness of her kissed lips. she took in the beauty of this woman and tried her hardest not to spill the overwhelming emotion that flooded her.

she was right at the edge, she could taste her big drop on the tip of her tongue and she wouldn’t be able to keep it together.

her fingers tugged at those dread again and threw her head back, “i’m gonna cum.”

her announcement only spurred kk on, her strokes grew stronger, her fingers moved faster as she held janae tighter.

she kissed at the apex of janae’s throat gently, contradictory to the force she was using everywhere else. “cum, baby.”

janae brought her head back down and found kk’s eyes. she was so strong, holding janae’s gaze. she’d have given kk whatever she wanted, she’d do whatever she asked.

“you want me to?” she didn’t care how pathetic she sounded. she just wanted to do this for kk.

kk smiled sweetly. “yeah, nae. i want you to.”

her voice grew softer and kinder and janae wanted to swim in the honey of it.

“do it for me.”

and so it was.

janae fell apart in kk’s arms, her stomach dropping in the best way. she felt her skin erupt, goosebumps feeling like small blasts all over. she felt tight, nothing was languid anymore. her whole body re-activated, every muscle spasming.

she didn’t even know if she was breathing. she couldn’t see anything, couldn’t hear beyond the rush of her own blood.

she’d never felt so good. she’d never wanted to stay anywhere as much as she wanted to stay in this moment. she could have died there, frozen in that exact second.

when she came down, she didn’t even feel like it. she thought she’d stayed on that high. everything felt good and fresh and the dopamine was really doing it’s job.

but then reality came crashing down. she looked down at kk, who looked full of something a little too close to admiration. she pulled janae into her, rubbing her hands down the length of her spine.

still doped up, janae fell into her and took it all in. she took as deep a breath as she could, breathing her in. she wanted to keep this feeling because tomorrow, it’d be gone.

there was nothing to be said. there was nothing she could do besides take what she could get. she wasn’t regulated enough to process the fact that everything had changed— at least for her.

there was no way she could go on waiting for kk. no possibly of keeping her cool or feigning non-chalance. this was it.

this was The Big Drop, and she’d fallen too fucking hard.

but she’d worry about that tomorrow. she’d cry when kk left the next morning and figure out her next move, but for now, she’d keep breathing kk in. she’d keep trembling in her arms and soaking up the way their skin felt together.

🏷️ @kehlaniscript @thaatdigitaldiary @hcneymooners @mariahthealchemist

SAY IT

playing games | JUDEA SKIES WATKINS

say it | TORY LANEZ

The car smelled like fresh leather and a faint trace of her favorite vanilla lotion. You were parked in the Starbucks drive-thru line, the soft beat of some R&B playlist filling the space. Juju was in the driver’s seat, one hand draped over the steering wheel, her other hand scrolling lazily through her phone. She looked relaxed, hoodie half-zipped over a black tank top, her gold chain catching the dim glow of the dashboard lights.

You sat next to her, sipping the last of your drink from earlier, trying to act unbothered. You had no business liking her—not with how she moved, always so nonchalant, keeping her business locked tight. She didn’t talk much about who she was into, but you knew there were people. There had to be. Juju wasn’t the type to be single for long.

She glanced at you, her expression unreadable. “You gon’ order somethin’, or you just sittin’ there wasting time?”

Her voice was smooth, teasing but not harsh. That was Juju—always walking the line between chill and cocky, making it impossible to tell if she was joking or dead serious.

You shrugged, trying to match her energy. “I don’t know yet. Why you pressed?”

She smirked, leaning back in her seat, her eyes lingering on you just long enough to make your chest tighten. “I’m not pressed. Just think it’s funny how you never know what you want.”

Her tone was light, but the way she said it felt like it meant more. That was Juju all over. She could say the most normal thing and make it sound like a challenge. She Like she was waiting for you to crack under her gaze.

“Ju…can we talk ?”. She puts her phone down slowly, turning her whole body to face you, one eyebrow slightly raised. The playful smirk fades into something softer—still confident but more present. "Aight, talk to me. What’s up?" Her voice is lower now, that same smooth tone but with an edge of concern. She reaches over and turns the music down without breaking eye contact. "You look like you ‘bout to say some real shit." A pause. "…I’m listening."

“Are you mad at me or something?”. Juju narrows her eyes, studying your face. She always did this, seeing if you were bullshitting or not. "Nah, I'm not mad. Why you think that?" There's a hint of amusement in her voice, like she knows where you're going with this. “Cus sometimes you can be a little … rude”

Juju leans back against the door, her smirk coming back with a vengeance. That cockiness is back. "Rude huh?" She chuckles. "Or are you just sensitive?" “No I thinks it’s you” you said eyeing her.

She crosses her arms, but there’s a glint of playfulness in her eyes.

"Aight, let me guess—you want me to soften up? Baby girl, this is just how I talk." She shrugs. "But if you really think I’m being mean… maybe you just can’t handle the realness." Then she cracks a smirk and nudges your shoulder lightly. "Or maybe you like it." “Ju, I’m serious. And if that’s how you talk…then you gotta lock in man”

She exhales through her nose, running a hand over her locs before looking at you dead-on.

"Baby girl. You know I love you. Always have." Her voice drops the joking edge for once. "But yeah—I’m like this ‘cause it’s fun, not ‘cause I’m tryna hurt your feelings."

Pause. She tilts her head, gauging your reaction. "So… we good? Or you still wanna fight about it?" Her smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth again—she can never stay serious too long. “Yea, we’re good. But stop looking at me like that”. I blushed

She full-on grins now, leaning in closer just to mess with you.

"Like what? Like this?" Her voice drops lower, teasing but knowing exactly what she’s doing. "Nah, nah—you started this. You can’t call me out and then get shy."

She laughs and finally leans back, flicking your forehead playfully. "Man… you lucky I ACTUALLY like you."

#juju watkins x oc #juju x reader #juju watkins #juju watkins x reader #juju watkins x y/n #usc trojans x reader #usc x reader #judea skies watkins x reader #judea skies watkins #judea skies watkins smut #juju smut #ncaa x reader #ncaa women’s basketball

—☆ 𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐒

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 : “HANNAH STUELKE X FEM!READER !! in which : your an iowa cheerleader . and obviously hannah is a wbb player . anyways , she actually really likes you . your really cute . taylor and jada always tease her , but she really doesn’t care . but…you have a boyfriend . but he knows your bi , so he’s supportive either way”

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : reader has a boyfriend . but is bisexual ! and also GO HAWKEYESSS

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 : i fear not a lot of people write for hannah stuelke . now mind you she carried the ncaa championships when evb else was benched . she was getting them playssss . and yes guys this is from like June or wtv , but i been lazy and changing fandoms a lot sooo pls enjoy !!

you’re standing on the sideline, pom-poms in hand, cheering your heart out as iowa hits another three-pointer, when you catch her. hannah stuelke. she’s literally impossible to miss—tall, athletic, with that easy confidence that makes everyone notice her. but she’s staring at you. like, really staring. and your stomach does that stupid little flip it’s been doing all week.

taylor leans over from the bleachers, smirking. “watching hannah drool over you again?” she whispers, nudging jada, who snorts.

you roll your eyes, trying to keep up the cheerleader smile, but it’s hard when hannah waves at you during a timeout. your heart practically leaps out of your chest, and you know you’re blushing. jada whispers, “she’s so obvious. i’d die if i were you.”

but you’re complicated, right? because yes—hannah is hot. and yes—she’s been dropping little hints that she actually likes you. but you have a boyfriend. a great boyfriend. he knows you’re bi and teases you mercilessly about how easy it is to fall for hannah, but he’s supportive. he even jokes, “go ahead, flirt a little. just don’t break my heart too badly.”

so here you are, stuck. grinning nervously as hannah dribbles down the court and somehow, magically, passes the ball to someone right in front of you. she winks. she winks.

your boyfriend notices. “ohhh,” he says, pretending to be scandalized. “she likes you, huh?” you shrug, cheeks burning. “maybe a little.” hannah is already jogging back on defense, glancing your way again. taylor groans. “she’s literally hopeless.” and you can’t help but think…neither are you.

later, after practice, hannah corners you near the locker room. she’s sweaty and gorgeous and looking like she just ran a marathon—but all you can focus on is the way she bites her lip when she smiles at you.

“so,” she starts, pretending to tie her shoes, but you know she’s nervous, “you…you’re with someone, right?”

you nod, heart pounding. “yeah. but…he’s cool with this kind of thing.” her eyes widen slightly. “he’s…okay with me?” you grin, shrugging. “he knows i like cute girls. like…really cute girls.” hannah laughs, a soft, breathy thing that makes your knees weak. “well…that’s me, right?”

you can’t stop the giggle that escapes you. “yeah…that’s definitely you.”

taylor and jada would never believe this. but right now, standing here with hannah, you don’t care. your boyfriend might be fine with it, but you think—you really think—this is going to get…interesting.

sooraseul-deactivated20251109

. ｡❀ “ I care for you still and I will forever . . “ ̼︵

𑂘oora . 𖦆⊹ ࣪ ˖ she;they // european .. 애교 ༢·͙

𓂃˚₊⊹ 𝑚asterlist // 𝑔uidelines // 𝑐.ai ⌇₊˚⋆

NEW BLOGGG

#katseye

mrsfudd

Somnophillia

Kinktober 10/8

You looked so peaceful when you slept. Your soft breath and relaxed face. So pretty and gentle. Paige noticed the other things while you slept. She saw your nipples poking through your tank top, your pretty lace panties, and your perfect ass cuddled up to her.

She wanted to disturb this peace, ruin this innocent moment with her dirty fantasies. And she did just that. She started by pulling down your top. Your perky tits popped right out, Paige didn’t take a second to start playing with them. She flicked your nipples with her tongue, the feeling of her wet mouth wasn’t enough to wake you up though.

After fully pulling off your shirt, Paige started to let her hand creep down your still body. She started to toy with the edge of your panties. Her cold fingers circling your clit took you out a deep sleep. You started to whimper and squirm. “Shhh baby, its okay”.

Hearing Paiges voice started to wake you more but she simply lulled you back to sleep. She kept rubbing small circles into your clit as you dozed back off. She slipped maybe 1 too many fingers, waking you up again.

At first, you wanted her to move but her grip on your neck felt so comforting you melted into her touch. “Good girl” She praised as your upset whining turned into slutty moans.

Trying to fight her off was useless anyway, its her pussy. She can have it anytime she’d like. Paige started to move down your sleepy body. Planting small kisses along the way. She licked your sensitive clit and played with you hole until she forced an orgasm out of you.

You went back to laying on Paige and sleeping like normal.

cosmiquex-deactivated20260404

✶ MY SHIRT, YOUR SHIRT, OUR SHIRT ; PAIGE BUECKERS !

➪ summary: paige gets back to connecticut from the national championship, making her way to her girlfriend without a second thought. and when she sees her (trying) to order a shirt, she scolds her, saying she could have hers

➪ pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

➪ warnings: probably not proofread

➪ word count: 0.6k

➪ emma's notes: uh hey guys... if you're seeing this for like the fourth time, i apologize so much. the first two times i can explain but this time it's just because i'm dumb and accidentally deleted the fic. and yes, i did change my user again so... anyway

thoughts on steve lacy?

he is my goat. i love his music. he’s so underrated but i put like a lot of my friends on to steve lacy. bro i swear in ELA CLASS this boy that likes me was talking abt making me a moodboard to ask me out and stuff and it said “will you be my bad habit”. soo like idk if he’s actually gonna do it. and he’s on the football team. but that was lowk my highlight of the day !

#steve lacy #rnb #might just thug it out